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lucidmagic · 1 year

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SecretCat!Larissa Weems x f!Groundskeeper!Reader (Part 1)

So I’ve been in the Larissa Weems hole and I haven’t even watched the damn show. And then I though about this post:

Larissa is a shapeshifter it’s a perfect fit!

Hence this small story (I have another planned that’ll be on AO3, whenever I’ll get to it)

Hope you enjoy!

Summary: As the post suggests, Larissa is going around teasing suitors as a cat, and the Reader (you) are the groundskeeper of Nevermore Academy with the biggest crush on her, but doesn’t pursue because you respect her wishes to not be shackled to someone. Oh how wrong you are......

Larissa Weems x f!Reader (Harold they’re lesbians.....)

Words: 3.1k

Trigger Warnings: Unwanted attention from men, storms, mentions of blood, brief animal in distress, useless lesbians being useless, dumbass gays, fluff.

Larissa Weems was 30 when her father, the richest, most influential man in the town of Jericho and part of one of the most powerful shapeshifter families, gave her an ultimatum: Marry someone agreeable and continue the family lineage/business, or he’ll find a suitable husband for her—without her consultation, of course. Obviously, Larissa didn’t take to this well, as she’d rather chew off her own left leg than let a man interfere with her aspirations and goals.

So, being the clever woman she was, she struck up a deal with her father. And being the business man he was, her father agreed.

And so, the most wanted and sought after heiress in the town of Jericho announced that she’ll marry (and subsequently bequeath part of the inheritance of her family’s money and resources to) the one person who can open her family’s manor door with the key around her cat’s neck. The Cat in which many of the town has nicknamed Ghost due to the Maine Coon’s pure white hair. Fitting, you suppose, also considering the animal’s elusive and spectral nature.

And so, many a man (and some women and those beyond and between) have tried—and swiftly failed—to capture, lure, and befriend the Cat.

Ghost was simply too quick, too clever, and far too smart to be caught by snares, treats, and nets. Some have even tried to use sleeping darts. But to no avail, the Cat still wanders the town, gathering bruised egos like dead mice.

Nary a week goes by without a prospective suitor falling to their ass from scaling a tree to get close to Ghost. Or a group of men cooing and offering treats to the animal perched two stories high, looking down with pure feline disgust and disinterest.

The town was littered with new and old snares, traps, and cat delicacies. All of which have been avoided by Ghost, much to the hunters’ chagrin.

All the while, Larissa Weems goes about her career without the interference of matrimony or her father’s whims.

Since the announcement of the Cat Chase, Larissa Weems had since been on an upward trajectory of her career: she became a darling professor at Nevermore Academy at 31 and within five years became Headmistress of the institution—the youngest ever.

Currently, at 38, it seemed she was enjoying her career and spinsterhood—much to the dismay of her father and those courters.

And you enjoyed her as your employer. Being the Academy’s groundskeeper and handywoman after all.

You managed the gardens, the ground’s upkeep, maintenance, health, borders, and general security. Your duties also accompanied that of the estate’s foreman, fixing shingles of the old building’s roofs, plumbing, and other necessities if they needed a quick repair.

You were integral to the preservation and efficiency of the Academy. Principal Weems—or Larissa, she insisted after several months of your service, but you don’t address her as such, out of respect for her position and also the cute, little pout she gifted you when you refuse.

You were good at your job as it’s in your blood—generations of your family served the Academy in some capacity—and in your soul—being a Psychic and all that.

Psychometry is one of your specialties, with the ability to sense an object or person’s history and present, which comes in handy with the multitude of plants and flowers on the property and old buildings. Does this rose need more or less water? What’s wrong with this particular lock? With a single touch you can know.

Coupled with that, either a specialized manifestation or what your father called a ‘drop of Dryad blood’ from a distant ancestor, you can also manipulate plants and trees to a certain extent. Nothing quite like Poison Ivy with her world conquering powers, but you can certainly restrain a person if needed—which had come in need several times with a drunk werewolf or vampire student in the past.

Your trees were green longer and your flowers were fuller and brighter. Principal Weems continuously tells you the gardens and grounds have never looked so vibrant and fragrant, even when she attended the Academy. You always waved away her compliments to distract from the rising heat on your cheeks.

So, in theory, you could have used your powers to tag-a-long with the others in the attempts to capture Ghost. It would be easy, you think. All the Cat needed to do was step on a vine and that’ll be it.

But no. Despite Principal Weems’ statuesque beauty (and you mean beauty in the sense of an artist’s muse or a god’s weakness, one for the legends and epics, not one for your unworthy, often muddy hands), her quick wittedness (sometimes you two talk an hour or two after she’s supposed to be home and you always leave a little breathless from the opportunity and from laughing), and her intelligence (you honestly think she could overtake the world if she puts her mind to it, just the same way she overtook yours), you respect her decision to stay single and not bound to someone else.

She wanted freedom, freedom her father was willing to sell away to the highest bidder. And you weren’t going to deprive her of that.

Sure, you sometimes catch Ghost sulking and sneaking around the fields and gardens, leaping from branch to branch, flowerbed to flowerbed, whenever you’re working. But you don’t make a show of it. Ghost is Larissa’s cat, of course he’d be at the Academy. She’s coming home to her owner.

Sometimes, you catch her in the tree above your head, looking down with crystal blue, oddly familiar, eyes like a gargoyle or a sentry. On occasion you wave up at the animal with a smile and then go about your work. Ghost must be resting from evading those eager suitors, you think.

Speaking of suitors, they do annoy you—not out of jealousy, of course not, well, maybe. They were going after what they wanted without shame and some part of you is jealous they are so open about it. But, no, jealousy isn’t what irritates you about them.

It’s their reasoning for their ‘courting’ (if you can even call it that). They wanted what she offered—money, influence, resources, and of course bragging rights. You overheard several men state as such at Jericho’s bars, enough that you spoil the barley in their beer with a clench of your fist. They wanted what Larissa comes with—just shallow and gold-digging desires. She always came second. She was an afterthought in their pursuance.

It made you sick and wrathful just thinking about it. Larissa Weems is much more than a trophy. She’s . . . well, she’s her.

She’s cold-natured, meaning anything below 70 degrees, she needs either a thick sweater or a crackling fire. Of the latter, you amply supply with firewood you chopped that morning and restock regularly.

(You try to forget the tall and unyielding figure at the faculty hall, watching on the balcony in grey or white. You doubt you looked particularly decent sweating and swinging an axe.)

She loved fresh tea, none of that packaged kind, but fresh straight from nature. Of which you also gifted her when you can, as you added her favorites in the gardens and made sure the potency is just right with your powers.

(There’s a crinkle of her brow when you drop off a bag of leaves, one that notches up with her carmine lips. If you have the urge to smooth it out with your thumb, you’re just concerned if the stress is showing on her face after hours of paperwork.)

She toured the gardens, sometimes, on her lunch breaks or when she has time in her busy schedule. Larissa will always stop and smell each flower if she can, and always double back to ones she liked just a bit more that day, just one more whiff before she leaves for her office.

(Of course, the next day, you sneak in, with the help of her assistant, to put those she deemed lovely in a vase next to her desk. Making sure to use your powers to make them live and bloom much longer than normal. Maybe, you hope, it’ll give her some reprieve for a moment, between meetings and calls.)

So, yes. The would-be suitors want her, but they don’t know her. And Ghost is just in the crosshairs of their caprices.

And they’re just fucking annoying. Especially, when their traps and snares make their way into your grounds. You always dismantle them when you can, much to their anger and displeasure.

(If you take particular pleasure in it, then no one has to know, but you and whatever god above.)

Of course, one of these times, it was pouring rain, drenching the land—and you—in a deluge. You could barely see five feet in front of you before the grey wall of water overtook your vision. But thankfully, you knew the lands of the Academy like the back of your hand and it was through muscle memory and your abilities that you navigated through the storm.

You had found more snares—made of Kevlar string and securely bolted to trees—in the back of the school during one of your rounds. You didn’t have the tools to properly deal with them. So, you headed back to your tool-shed—only for the bottom to fall out before you could get back.

Now, soaked and a little more than pissed at their audacity, you practically swam your way back. The torrent and winds made it difficult to see, let alone hear. And it wasn’t until you were up on the second to last one that you noticed that it triggered.

And something was struggling, right side up and writhing, clawing and biting at the line. Something whined and shrieked even through the thunder and rain.

No, not something.

Ghost.

Ghost was caught. Her pearl white fur was soaked and drenched, enough that you could just barely see the pink flesh beneath her coat.

Oh no. You must save her. Poor thing.

You rounded on the Cat, strung up on its front left paw. Her mewls were pained and agonizing. Your heart ached.

“It’s okay, I got you.” You said, softly, but the storm deafened it. You approached without thought. And with a single gloved touch of your hand, the Cat panicked more and leapt in a frantic escape attempt. Her paw twisted and another screech rang through the rain.

“Hey, stop! Stop!” You begged but she continued, trying her best to get away from you. Her fur covered her blue eyes and she was in survival mode. You needed to do this quickly before she hurts herself more.

You scoop up the large lump of writhing fur, trying to position her fangs and claws away from you. But the Kevlar string proved difficult with your shears, and it takes you longer than you would like. Three, Four, Five snips. . .

On the Eighth, you manage to cut it—and Ghost managed to wriggle free just enough.

Sharp pain slashed across your forehead, right above and through your brow, and you dropped the Cat as you reeled back, clutching your head.

“Fuck!” Through the cold rain, warmth blossomed in your palm. Faintly, iron entered the air.

Ghost plopped to the soggy ground and sprinted away to a near gate, then she pounced on it—one paw held to her chest. She landed deftly and turned toward you, eyes now free of her hair. Her bright eyes cut through the rain like a beaconing lighthouse. A tiny, razor-sharp lighthouse.

You steadied yourself against the tree and stared back, hand still staunching your wound. With your other hand, you shooed Ghost away and raised your voice so you can be heard over the thunder. “Go on! Get out of here. Go! Go back to Larissa. I’m not going to capture you.”

Ache thrummed across your forehead, but you still stood near the tree, eyeing the animal. After a moment, the white blob in the distance disappeared into the storm. Seconds passed before you sighed and then hissed as the sting increased with pressure.

Well, might as well get the other one while out here. . .

The next day, after intensively cleaning the three gashes across your brow, you visited the Academy nurse. She remarked, off-handedly, “Well, I’m certainly popular this morning.”

You don’t follow up with a comment, only asking her to look at it before you decide to go to hospital. She does and used more disinfectant and sealed the gashes with some Steri-strips and patched it with gauze and tape. With the orders to clean it twice a day, you leave, head throbbing from the poking and prodding.

You go about your day, dodging questions from other faculty and students about your new accessory.

��I fought a bear.”

“It’s a new French trend—you ought to try.”

“You should see the other guy.”

Eventually, your duties lead you to Larissa Weems’ office, arms full of freshly chopped wood. The storm season always brings in the cold and you knew she would appreciate it throughout the rest of the day.

You knocked your signature knock, and after a moment you heard the delightful ring of her voice, “Come in.”

Like a siren’s song, you obeyed. She greeted you with her red-painted smile, one that makes your heart thump just a little bit harder and your breath grow shallow. Larissa’s smile washed over you as you walked further in and placed the wood in its usual rest at the edge of the fireplace. The hearth is ablaze but dwindling. You dutifully added two more logs in and worked it with the poker.

It ignites after a second, and you couldn’t help but linger, soaking in the warmth and the other woman’s presence. Pathetic, you know, yet you enjoy these moments more than you should.

You turned to her, revealing your full figure, and when her cyanite gaze latched on to your patched forehead, the pretty, private grin on her face fell. Que the furrow between her eyebrows and the pursing of her mouth.

“Darling,” she began, voice saturated with concern. The nickname is not an uncommon gift from her to you. Even after all this time, it set something burning in your chest and frayed your will to not drop on your knees in that moment. (You bet she’ll look divine from that angle regardless). “What happened to your head?”

Larissa pushed back from her desk and rose from her chair, revealing her stature in its entirety, swathed in a light cream blazer and skirt combo. If it wasn’t for the slash of crimson lipstick on her mouth, you could have mistaken her for a marble figure, carved by Michelangelo himself. Vaguely you think of the myth about Pygmalion and Galatea.

The shadows of the fire danced across her figure and it took you a moment to find your tongue, “Oh, uh,” You gulped. “I ran into a tree branch yesterday afternoon. During the storm.”

You don’t want her to worry about Ghost—and by extension, her freedom.

She stared down at you, blue eyes almost black, and you resisted the urge to fidget. Then, something on her arm caught your sight and you zeroed in on the brace wrapped around her left wrist.

“You could ask you something similar,” you said. Your gloved hand reaches out to brush it, just light enough. If only it touched true to her skin. But your abilities can be unpredictable even after all these years, and you’d rather not glimpse something she wouldn’t want discovered. Hence the constant use of gloves.

“What happened? Who do I need to beat up?”

She gave a low chuckle from her chest. “No need to defend my honor. A simple sprain.” When you were about to protest, she continued, “. . . I tried to get somewhere, but I ended up biting off more than I could chew.”

She sounded hesitant, but you didn’t want to push. She needn’t disclose anything, especially to someone like you.

“If you want, I can whip up a salve from the gardens. Something that could numb it or even speed up the healing process.”

That gentle grin was back and your heart beats traitorously in your chest. “That would be lovely, dear. Thank you.”

You gifted her your goofiest of smiles. “Of course, Principal Weems. Is there anything else?”

There it was. That pout. Adorable.

However, her lips smooth over as another lesser-known visage crosses her features—playfulness she rarely displays to just anyone, lest her stalwart reputation be stained. Your breath stilled.

God, you’re hopeless.

Swiftly, much in the opposition of her height, she bent just enough to skim her lips over the gauze on your brow, and with a ping of pressure, she placed a kiss right above the wound.

Something deep within you latched around your heart and squeezed. A delicious shiver raced across your spine, spreading as if someone lit a wick and the line ignited all the way through your body.

Oh, that’s new.

Larissa leaned back just so, taking in your dumbfound face before she turned back to her desk. Far too proud of herself, you think. “If you want, we can have a nightcap together tonight. It’s been a while since we sat down over a glass.”

She’s right, you vaguely think. Between the beginning of the semester and some donor kerfuffle earlier this month, you two hardly had the chance to hangout. Not that it was a common occurrence to begin with, but it usually happened every month or two. It started about a year into your employment, and you had a feeling she did so to extend a branch of friendship.

Yes, friendship. That’s what you must remember. Nothing more. Despite what your heart wants, your mind knows best. Larissa Weems was a lonely figure, whether due to her job or her family, she needed someone in her corner.

“I would love to. Text me when you’re done for the day, and I’ll head over.”

She answered with a soft smile, one that crinkled her eyes.

You left her office, earning a strange look from Larissa’s assistant and some of the faculty in the hall.

The rest of the rounds go by in a blur of muscle memory and anticipation. You do give her the salve, dropping it off with her assistant, who still gave you a peculiar glance.

Hours later, after you did your deeds for the day and interacted with dozens of teachers and students, you went to your lodge to wash up before that evening. You don’t want to trek in mud or appear ungrateful after all. White and dirt don’t go together.

And that’s when you finally noticed, brandished on your brow the entire day, the damning deep red, lipstick outline.

So should I continue with part 2? Let me know!

Anyways back into my cave...

#larissa weems #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x female reader #Wednesday #netflix wednesday #principal weems #principle Larissa weems #principal larissa weems x reader #my fic #lucidmagic #lucidmagic story #wednesday fanfic #my fanfiction #larissa weems x f!reader

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watanabes-cum-dump · 11 months

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Big Brother

Synopsis: Lee reflects on his experience as an older brother, both to Murray and the Gray Ravens.

Note: Basically Gray Raven found family + Murray.

AO3 link

I am five when my brother is born.

He’s so small, so fragile, and so loud. But I want to protect him, because mother loves him, and I will too. I will be good for her, and good for him. Father is nowhere to be found, but it’s alright. Me and my brother can be the men in mom’s life.

I am six when he starts to walk, Murray stumbles around grasping at toys with his chubby little hands. He can’t go to school yet, so I still walk alone, but he will join me in a few years. He loves the little robot I made out of pipe cleaners and cardboard, he loves it more than the stuffed cat mom bought for him. She laughs, saying that maybe she should just keep the cat.

Next thing I know, I was nine and my mother is dead. The Punishing virus, of course.

I don’t cry when they burn her body. Because I have to take care of my brother now. Murray can cry because I will comfort him, I will dry his tears. If I cry, who will dry my tears?

It’s not that bad when mom dies. A children’s home takes us in. We still have a roof over our heads, and I can still take care of Murray. He’s alright, making his own toys out of pipe cleaners and cardboard. I’m alright too, because I started to learn about robotics. I’m going to make the best robot for him, so that he’ll always have a friend.

I am ten when Murray is diagnosed with a heart condition. He’s more fragile than ever, launching into coughing fits whenever he exerts himself too much. The medicine is expensive, I dry up mother’s savings to pay for it. I feel bad, because mother said that we could use it to get a bigger place and get better food. But I don’t mind the children’s home, I didn’t mind out tiny apartment either. Not when Murray is with me.

I am twelve when I realise just how much I miss mom. I miss her voice, her touch. I don’t want to have to take care of Murray all the time. Why should I raise him when I’m just a kid? I have school, I want to have friends to hang out with but I have a younger brother who’s always sick. He’s a burden, but one that I am willing to shoulder.

I am still twelve when I get my first job. The pay is low but the old lady running the shop is nice anyways. She gets it, she wants to help me. Her mom died too when she was young, she knows what it’s like. I am too young to work, but the Punishing virus has left the world broken beyond repair. Age just determines your value in the workforce now.

I am thirteen when I forget my mother’s face. I’ve seen so many come in and out of the shop, in and out of the children’s home. Only Murray’s face stays with me. He looks like me but not really. His eyes are bigger, and his lip are thinner. But anyone could tell we were brothers. Morian who is thin but tall with blond hair and blue eyes, and Murray, who is also rather tall for his age with the same hair and eyes as me.

Someone once told me I look like my mother. I am not sure, I don’t remember her.

I am sixteen when me and Murray move out of the children’s home. It’s a small apartment, just like the one I grew up in, but it’s not that same. It’s a shoddy studio with a leaky kitchen sink and the bathroom door doesn’t close all the way. But we make it home. I hang some posters up, and once the bed is messed up and the blinds are crooked, it’s our new home.

I am seventeen when I start doing mercenary work. It’s dangerous, but it pays well enough that maybe I can finally pay for Murray’s heart surgery. I found I’m quite a good shot, though I wish I could just tinker with little robots all day. I don’t like the job, but eventually, I don’t feel anything about it. It’s a means of survival, in this world where death’s shadow never truly leaves, it’s all I can do.

I am not Morian when I work, when I work I am Lee. A blue demon with two pistols and sharp eyes. Lee is cold and efficient, Morian is a warm older brother. Lee is a lone wolf, Morian is always with his family. I think that way I never felt all that bad about the job. Separating myself from Lee made me feel lighter, as if I was just a normal boy. As normal as a boy could be in a post apocalyptic world I suppose.

I am eighteen when I find a way to save Murray. This is it, this is all I’ve ever wanted. A ticket to Babylonia, a ticket to safety and security, and all I have to do is give up my body to Kurono.

So I do.

My heart goes to Murray, finally he has his heart surgery. The rest of my body goes to the wastes. Am I still Morian? Or am I just Lee now? Can Lee be human? I wasn’t sure, it made me uneasy for a while. The idea that I was only Lee now, that I was only the soldier. I could never go back to being an older brother, I could never go back to that little apartment, and I could never remember my mother.

I never turn nineteen.

I am eighteen forever. I am an adult technically but I never really feel like one.

Murray turns nineteen.

Then he turns twenty.

I am younger than my little brother now.

But I still love him the same. I still ask him how he is, I still tease him occasionally and I watch him grow. It’s scary to think that now, there is a possibility that I will be alive when he is not. Or that I could die and leave him alone. That’s what scares me the most, so I try to come back from my missions alive.

I do a bit of a double take when he calls me Morian. He knows I’ve been going by Lee but, to him I’m still Morian. His older brother. I do not know if Morian is still alive, truthfully. Have I replaced him? Is it just Lee now?

Eventually, I left Kurono and joined Babylonia’s task force. My new teammates are Lucia, a veteran soldier who still has the charm of a teenage girl, and Liv, a sweet young medic. They’re both younger than me, which was a bit jarring at first. Liv is sixteen, what has she already seen? And Lucia, how long has she been a construct? Where is her family?

Our leader, the commandant, is an accomplished one. The valedictorian of their class at Faust military academy, and an ace shot. I think they’re just as good as me. The Gray Ravens become my new home in no time.

I would never turn down Liv’s request to help her in her training, and I remain… supportive, of Lucia’s attempts at cooking. They’ve become dear to me, and even the commandant stays close. I know most commandants don’t usually get this close or even think of the constructs in their squads as human, but they do. And it makes me feel like Morian again.

Eventually, I realise that Lee and Morian are one in the same. Sometimes Morian is violent and cold, and sometimes, Lee is soft and welcoming.

HQ is nothing like that rundown apartment, the couch is soft in the commons, and the sink works just fine. There are no blinds to speak of, the sky remains starry at all times of the day. It is always well lit, and it’s always the right temperature. I even have a place to make whatever contraptions my heart desires, and I have the means to repair my clothes.

It’s not that rundown apartment, but it has the same feeling. It feels like home.

Home is wherever my family is. Yes, Gray Raven is my family. I am the oldest, I will dry their tears and help them anyway I can. I am the Gray Ravens older brother, and I have two younger sisters who will never cry, never feel hopeless because I am here for them.

Soon enough, I realise that they will dry my tears too. They will help me, they will take care of me. Because that’s what family does.

I am still eighteen, despite the years that have passed since my reconstruction surgery. But in my mind, I am still a kid. I still get pouty and commandant pokes fun at me for it. I will never truly grow up, I will be stuck in this limbo forever and I will only become even younger than Murray.

I know he works for Kurono now. I know he’s doing shady things, just as I did for him once. I don’t care, I still love him. Because I know he would still love me in spite of the dirt I’ve trudged through. We are both brothers and sinners.

I think he could be a commandant in all honesty, but I think he’s still a little fragile for it. No matter, he makes good money in Kurono, and we even get to hang out sometimes. It should be the other way around, I should be treating my little brother to cool exhibits and arcades. In another timeline, maybe I am.

In another timeline, maybe Lucia, Liv and the commandant are friends from school. In that timeline, maybe mom is still alive and me and Murray can play video games and build little robots together. Maybe dad is there, whoever he is.

In that timeline and in this one, I am their older brother.

I am still eighteen, I always will be. Whether I am the Palefire or the Entropy, I remain eighteen forever, and I remain their big brother.

#Punishing gray raven #pgr #Pgr lee #Pgr lucia #pgr liv #pgr fanfic #PGR Murray #Gray Ravens #Now time to write smut now that I’ve gotten all the feelsies out :D

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ashyronfire · 6 months

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Consequences || Chapter 04: No More Teeth To Bite With

Title: 04 - No More Teeth To Bite With Rating: M Characters: Grimm, The Pale King Warnings: Disturbing Content, Horror, Gore, Unreliable Narrator, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Read On Ao3: Beginning || Current Chapter

Summary:

“Little more than obstacles to you, are they, nightmare?” he hissed. As empty as the city now was, the words carried far on the wind, resonating off the buildings that he’d find empty. Or would they, too, be tombs, forever encompassing those lost, until time decayed their lifeless shells into dust? “Inconvenient and in the way, the bodies of my people?”

Author’s Notes: Tumblr continues to be a week behind Ao3, I'm awful. I'm sorry. SOME day I'll catch them up (today is not that day and it's only 10 chapters long, so probably when the fic is finished lmao)

CHAPTER 04: NO MORE TEETH TO BITE WITH

The capital had a name once.

It was known more now as the ‘City of Tears,’ an apt descriptor if ever there was one for the rain-soaked cobblestone pathways and windows streaked from the steadily falling droplets sliding down their surfaces.

Once, that rain would have been broken up by the warmth of smoke rising from buildings, from the furnaces of restaurants, homes, and manufacturing plants. The glass panes covering the streetlights would be fogged up from the contrast of temperatures and mud would seep into the cracks of the streets, carried about by messy feet as the citizens went to-and-fro, about their daily business, mechanical and altogether entirely alive.

But it would not have been known by anything so macabre a definition as ‘tears’ back then, and the rain would not have been so dramatic. Though Blue Lake did leak through the cavern’s roof at all times, the menderbugs were constantly on call to repair the damage as fast as they could. Time had stolen that efficiency, and the collapse was imminent. The glorious civilization would be underwater before too long, its history lost to time, and anyone who yet lived within would find themselves little more than a memory as well.

Memories.

It had had a name once. He could not remember what it was called, and that was a distressing thought. He’d created it, this city. He was the architect behind its invention, the layout and design borne of his creativity. He’d always loved creating, far more than he ever had his people, and yet standing before a marvel of his invention, he was left with the distinct reminder of what he’d lost. What he stood to lose still.

Nostalgia seized his heart in a vice grip, choking.

He would not weep for the loss of his creations.

“You should have visited more when it was alive,” Grimm observed, unfazed by the falling rain. He should have been at least a little uncomfortable with the chilled water; he should have been at least mildly perturbed by the sensation of being wet. He was impassive, calmer than he ought to have been, and had the Pale King not hated him before, he might have in that moment.

How dare you stand at the precipice of my brilliance as it falls into the sea and care not at all for the loss.

How dare you be right.

There were corpses around them, desiccated and festering, bloated with infection yet dripping from their eyes, from their maws, from the breaks in their shell. The husks that lined the city ground were broken things, limbs torn asunder. Some of them had injuries clearly inflicted by nail, while others appeared to have just collapsed. The number was not small, though. No, it spread on, and on. Though the streets were not completely covered in the bodies, there were enough to leave no delusion as to how badly the capital had fared in the wake of the infection.

Grimm stepped over one of the fallen carcasses and kept walking, his eyes never even casting downward, and that infuriated the wyrm.

Grimm did not look back at him, but he did stop.

“Always there will be bodies. Death gifts mementos to those left behind.” The butterfly carefully stepped around the corpse of one of the sentries, then looked left and right. “Memorials to remember those we loved and lost. We tell ourselves it is to honor their memory, but in the end, it is not. Graves, you see, are for the living.” Grimm made a decision, then, and he started down a different path.

Realization dawned as a guillotine on the Pale King’s neck.

Memorials. The direction they were going. It was not a coincidence; it could not have been.

“Grimm.” His voice shook. “There are other pathways to Dirtmouth.”

They would be going past the Watcher’s Spire, true, but that was not the most horrifying thing down that road. That was not what made his stomach drop, crashing like lightning, scorched in its wake.

“There are,” Grimm agreed. “But this is the one that I wish to take. Would you rather we separate?”

The wyrm froze. His stomach lurched violently at the thought, the feeling of something under his skin writhing and cold. Tingling spread through him, numbness that settled somewhere behind his eyes, and the vertigo that stole his vision made the world blur. He did not succumb to the uncomfortable sensation; he bowed his head instead, shaking at the shoulders.

He would not make it to Dirtmouth, and that smug creature knew it. He’d barely made it here. If Grimm left him, what would become of him? Would he—would he simply stop being animated? Would the void rise up from the bottom of the world to devour him once more?

Over the husks, he stepped, but the tattered remnants of his wings snagged on the end of one of their spears and he tumbled forward. His instinct was to reach out, to grab the edge of Grimm’s cloak to catch himself, and the butterfly instantly pulled away. He hit the floor face-down instead, shell crunching beneath the weight of his own rotting corpse. His mouth filled with something sweet, viscous, and he gagged.

Grimm did not acknowledge the sound, rattling though it was. “I will thank you to not touch me,” he said instead, impassive.

The Pale King rubbed his maw on the back of his hand, and it came away thick with honeyed gold saliva. He trembled, staring openly at the spread of his claws, willing away the viscosity, that the rain might wash him clean.

Footsteps told him that Grimm was departing again.

Slowly, he scrambled back to his feet, shell clattering beneath him as he attempted to rise. The rain obscured his companion’s departure, the dusty grays of Grimm’s cloak more like shadows than the flames that represented him most – shadows that crept, tangled, wove up and whispered. Fitting, the Pale King thought, for the path the reaper cut felt like the executioner’s axe, and he did not want to take it.

That was precisely why Grimm had chosen it, though – of that, he was still without doubt.

Did the nightmare god intend to act as jury, to pass judgment on the wyrm’s crimes? Was that the intention?

But surely he understood necessity? Surely he understood how dire the situation had been, for was he not privy most of all to the frenzy that was his counterpart’s rage?

The Pale King thought the Dream must have been a loud place, prior to her sealing. He envisioned it full of her screams, impotent but furious, and then the dawning realization of the monstrosity of her creation. He thought that her realm must have been full of rivers that flowed thick with infection – and Grimm was a part of that world, wasn’t he? Severed though he was from her, did he not see, did he not know?

“Please,” he said, legs uneasy, pain shooting through them. The sensation was burning and it seared down his throat, curling back shell that felt as though it were pressed beneath a branding iron. If he looked at himself in a mirror, would he find marks in the shape of feathers, woven tight around his neck?

Or would it be claws too long for a body that should have resembled his own?

He heard cracking and it took him a moment to register that the sound was his own footsteps over water-soaked bricks. His shell held up beneath his weight and yet the cracking continued. He half-expected to see splits in each brick under the burden of each step, but no – none came. The phantom sounds played in the back of his mind regardless, his path falling in sync behind Grimm’s own, and his plea – however pathetic it sounded even to himself – went ignored.

There was to be no mercy, but he had done nothing to merit so harsh a judgment from Grimm.

“You do not have a right to look down on me so,” he hissed out. Grimm did not turn back to him, did not slow down, and did not acknowledge the words in any way. They rounded a corner, great awnings rippling under the weight of the rainfall pooling on the fabric, and a faint breeze tore free a poster from one of the walls. He watched it splatter onto the ground, the silk parchment long faded, the edges ripped and jagged; it advertised the performance of a butterfly clad in fanciful pink silks, her name emblazoned over the bottom.

The magnificent Marissa.

The singing butterfly at the Pleasure House.

He'd never seen her perform.

He’d never been to the Pleasure House. Many an invitation was sent to the White Palace, with assurances of discretion if he wanted to enjoy their festivities without the bother of the general public. More than once, his retainers had suggested he go to a performance for a break from the business of running the kingdom, and every time – every single time – he’d refused them.

When he should have been a part of the kingdom he’d labored to build, he’d withdrawn instead, to the secrecy of his palace and his laboratories, to the dark recesses of his guilt and shame, to the burden that held him fast in chains.

Because he’d known what was coming. Because he knew what had to be done, and how could he ever hope to look in the faces of those he would sentence to death in a bid at immortality?

…he’d looked in their eyes –

“You who care nothing for the living, only the dead,” the Pale King continued weakly. “Have you ever loved anything in your life, save yourself? The macabre ghosts you call a Troupe, that you would have others believe exist as anything other than figments of your imagination? Extensions of your power? I know what you are—”

“Do you.” It was not a question. Grimm did not stop, but he did lift one hand, and the sound of his claws raking over the corner of the building they passed was jarringly high-pitched and sharp; it brought to mind a razor’s edge scraping over stone and left grooves in its wake. The building in question was a little nestled thing, with old, rotting food on display, long forgotten. It’d been beautiful once, though. The Pale King could faintly remember the smell of the breads baking.

Had he stopped there, on the day the monument was unveiled?

Had he wanted to? Yes. But he hadn’t. He’d been in a hurry to be free of the eyes boring through his very soul.

“I know much of you,” the wyrm insisted. “I made it a point to study you and your counterpart both.”

“And yet still you see so little. Still you are so blind.”

Grimm rounded the corner and he followed – only to be stopped sharply in his tracks. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, his head turning back to look at the memorial fountain, rain falling like tears streaking down a mask that would never have possessed any – that never could have. It was larger than life and stylized to remove some of the accents of the armor, to hide the embellishments that his own magic left like stains. Time had worn the polished black stone away to a mottled grey and the fine chiseling that had once added details was long lost to the erosion the water brought, and yet –

Yet he could hear the shifting of fabric with each turn. He could hear the click of metal as they turned toward him. He could see their mask, perfectly expressionless, and –

How desperately he’d needed to believe that the thing within was nothing at all. Like his kingsmoulds, but in a god’s shell. How he’d needed it to be – but it wasn’t.

In retrospect, he should have known. How they’d loved him. How they’d wanted his approval, how they’d sought it – there were so many signs, so many hints, and he’d ignored them all –

Little eyes staring up at him as he explained the names of the flowers that grew along the balcony.

Too long horns for a body that hadn’t yet grown into them, toppling over and then stubbornly rising again in stubborn determination.

Perfect stillness through the pain of having spells woven like strings into a shell that he now knew could bear pain and not once did it flinch, not once did it react, despite the agony the light tearing through its void must have presented.

The anguished desire for approval. The need to be what he’d asked for – it spelled its undoing, hadn’t it? By wanting so badly to please him, it broke itself – no longer empty, not hollow at all, but overflowing for him.

Nausea settled in his stomach with no where to go. He could have vomited, but the pain that twisted his guts felt like an apt punishment.

“Did you bring me here to gloat, wraith?”

Grimm was staring up at the statue. His mask prevented his expression from showing whatever emotions played through his mind, but the perfect stillness was reminiscent of the posture that his Pure Vessel had once taken, and the Pale King found it very unsettling. Grimm crossed his arms beneath his wings, the long waves of them covering his torso, and he shifted so that all the wyrm could see was his back.

“We are gods, but who is a god to one of us? We, who would rule over others… to whom do we offer our prayers?” the butterfly mused. “We place our faith and hearts in things unseen, in beliefs that we choose for ourselves. And, in some cases… in those we find worthy. I wonder, would I have been the same, had I parents?”

There was an almost whimsical way that Grimm spoke. If the Pale King hadn’t known any better, he might well have thought that it was melancholia that gripped the nightmare’s heart – a longing for what he did not, could never, have.

But that was not accurate, was it?

“I am given to understand that you have at least one parent,” the wyrm interjected. He was looking at Grimm because looking at the butterfly meant that he need not look at the statue and all that it symbolized. His stomach felt weighted enough without the reminder looming down at him, expressionless and yet saying so much – speaking without words – ‘How could you?’ –to drive home understanding.

And moreover, there lingered a question: what did Grimm know of what his children thought of him? Of what it meant to be a parent? He, who masqueraded as one, but was not – no, the Pale King knew very well what that creature that Grimm called his child actually was. He could fool the world, draw them into the illusion of his game, and it would change nothing for eyes that could see beyond the surface. Grimmchild was another facet of Grimm and so, in essence, he was not a parent in truth.

The butterfly inclined his head to the side. “Is it parentage, to be born of fragments of oneself? Is that what you would consider childhood? Birth, existence? Excised to hide away in shame, to banish to the darkest recesses of one’s realm, to pretend it does not exist?” His voice was calm, even, but the words that followed were anything but. “I should not find myself surprised so. You did the same, after all.”

The comparison wrenched deep within him, clawed at his heart, and pulled it tight, blood bursting beneath wicked claws. As it was intended to, no doubt. Grimm punctuated the statement with an easily observed, “She calls me her blood moon, rising scarlet on the horizon, and you call me her counterpart – but it is you, not I, who have the most in common with her.”

…and there it was. The implication given words. It chilled him to his core, and he was suddenly distinctly aware of the heavy drops of water leaking from cracks high above. His gaze shifted upward, to where fractures splintered like spiderwebs across cavern’s ceiling, weeping onto his beautiful city. He was distinctly aware of Grimm’s departure, footfalls light, cloak soundless. Mourning seized his lungs, holding him fast.

His kingdom was dead. He was not the one who killed it, but it was dead nonetheless, and in the war that he’d waged – conqueror to be – had anyone actually been victorious?

Was he really no different?

The Pale King turned and followed Grimm at a languid pace. Unlike the butterfly, his own steps were heavy things, the water splattering around him as he went. He could be faster. He could be more graceful, if he surrendered to his nature and moved on all limbs rather than the mimicry of a bipedal creature that he’d begun to favor. He did none of the above.

“The bodies,” he choked out, claws clinging to the remnants of wings that acted like clothing around himself. They were shattered in pieces and shorn; his reflection stared back at him, a disheveled mess, not at all the graceful figure that he’d once been. Hallownest’s Godking, reduced to a muddy, rotting figure, aghast and suspended in agony. How fitting.

He thought he heard the clank of chains.

He thought he heard the ethereal bells of seals going up.

He thought he saw, in his shadow, a figure behind him with blazing golden eyes.

There were none of those things and yet, part of him wished that there were.

“Will no one tend to them?” the Pale King asked.

Grimm stopped in front of a great, ornamental cage, folded metal and still in immaculate care for its age and lack of use. The butterfly adjusted the lever, calling the elevator back, then turned to look down at him.

“Who is left to do so? To mourn the dead? Would you have the relic seeker in the City do it? The survivors in Dirtmouth? Perhaps the scavengers of Deepnest have use for your carcasses?” He bent over, too far, his body curling in a way that no natural creature should have. “Or will it be you, wyrm? Will you bury your dead, lay them to rest? Bid farewell at last?” The wyrm looked away, and Grimm chuckled, vicious. “No. I thought not.”

This was going to be a long elevator ride.

#ashe writes #consequences fic #hollow knight #hk fanfic #hollow knight fanfic #hk the pale king #hk grimm

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airplanned · 2 years

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Silence. 5

Table of Contents....Chapter 1...Chapter 4

Everyone in the abbey did chores. Most likely, someone would say it built character, but really it was to keep the abbey running. It wasn't as if someone was going to cook for them. Or make repairs to the building. Or do laundry. Or tend the garden.

That was Zelda's job that morning. Over time, the monks got a sense of everyone's strengths and weaknesses, and of all the things you could say about Zelda, no one could deny her talent with vegetables.

She wondered sometimes if her father had sent any instructions about what she was not allowed to do. No studying bugs. No climbing trees. No guardian parts. Whenever the abbot assigned her to the garden or had her repair the drain pipes, she wondered if he was secretly going against her father's wishes. Maybe it was a little, silent nod in her direction that he believed in her.

Maybe he just desperately needed someone to fix the drainpipe.

Maybe her father hadn't said anything at all, and this whole drama lived entirely in her head.

Whatever the reason, she would make the abbot proud and show her appreciation for the opportunity he had given her here. In every chore she did, she tried to make the abbey better, more efficient. She tried to be as helpful as possible so the Goddess would approve.

As they rose from breakfast to begin their chores, handing their plates to the acolyte on dish duty, the abbot gestured Link close, squeezed his shoulder, and then steered him into following Zelda.

She wondered if the abbot knew about their meeting on the roof.

Keeping her face calm, she nodded, making eye contact with Link before turning towards the door. She could hear him following.

As she lifted the hood of her tunic over her head, she wondered if Link would think this was some show of piety as she tended the tomatoes. She actually just sunburned easily. When she looked back, he had covered his head as well. Oh well, it would keep him from getting sunburned too.

She got him started weeding while she inspected the tomatoes, tying new growths to the trellis with twine. As always, they had way too many cucumber, and she set Link to harvesting them. The marigolds seemed to be working to keep the bugs off the strawberries, but there were more signs of squirrels.

Someday, Zelda was going to do something about the squirrels.

But first she had to do something about Link, who wouldn't meet her eyes as he harvested cucumber.

She should leave him be. But that felt cruel. Isolating when he probably already felt alone.

But the whole point of the abbey was for solitary contemplation. So what was she doing getting into his business?

Despite everything, she reached out and squeeze his arm, drawing him to look at her and giving him a questioning look. Are you alright?

Kindness wouldn't bend her vows.

He sighed, then nodded in a determined way that meant not really, but I'm trying.

She ought to have stopped the conversation there. Maybe squeezed his arm and offered him a smile and had him help her haul out a bag of fertilizer to keep him occupied.

Instead, she nodded her head towards the temple. What happened in there?

I'm sorry if I was too something.

What?

He held three fingers to his lips in shame.

Oh. He was feeling guilty about their talk last night as well.

Slowly, she nodded. Right. Yes. But she couldn't help but ask again, Are you okay?

That he was willing to answer. The voices. I hear them louder here. He gestured around them at the plateau.

Louder? she asked, making a mouth of her hand and stretching it wide before clapping it together.

He nodded. The gesture shifted into him shaking his head as he looked up at the sky for explanation.

Obviously, none came.

She patted his arm again to get his attention and tried, Maybe the voices are louder because everything else is quiet. Then she tried to explain that the voices in her own head were loud here too, and she tried to explain that back at the castle everything was so loud that the voice in her head was quiet in comparison, but that wasn't really true once she thought about it. Her own negative self-talk was always very loud. But then again, a lot of actual people with actual voices had said a lot of the things that she now found she told herself. Here she had to do it herself.

He didn't seem to really follow most of what she tried to convey, which was probably good, because she wasn't sure she believed it.

And it was probably good because they shouldn't be talking like this. They'd just established that.

Deep in thought about what she had said (or about something else, who knew?) he nodded.

She tapped his arm again to draw him out of it (why did she keep touching him?) and offered him her brightest smile. He looked down at her hand (because she still hadn't pulled it away), and a timid smile stretched across his face as well.

She put him to work hauling the bag of fertilizer.

Chapter 6

#Zelda #my fic #Silence AU

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thorns-and-rosewings · 7 months

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Time to post some Seraphim AU🔥 Character Information!

(Like I have mentioned, I have a bit of brainrot from this idea sooo... I guess it's time to give the characters in this AU bit more of a proper introduction. Warning this is quite long because I always overdo my writing.)

Let's start with Canon Eclipse, after getting his dumb ass stuck in Seraphim Eclipse's Universe...

-The satellite blast didn't kill him, as Nice Eclipse (Solar) told Moon, he built the satellite in a month... Something could go wrong. Which it did, rather than just blasting Canon Eclipse to dust, it punched him clean into another dimension. Severely damaging both him and the Newton Star.

-An energy blast punched right through Seraphim Eclipse's roof and deposited the damaged remains of Canon Eclipse into the ballpit. Scaring the absolute bejesus out of both Seraphim Eclipse and all the kids in the daycare.

-Upon realizing that there looked like another version of himself, albeit much smaller and without wings, Seraphim Eclipse took him to his workshop in order to investigate what this was all about.

-To clarify his damages, Canon Eclipse's legs and right arm had been blown clean off and his torso and rays were damaged. Thankfully all his pieces made the trip and could be re-attached.

-His remains were strapped to a table and Seraphim Eclipse proceeded to hook him up to his computer and go through his mind...

-That wasn't fun.

-He woke up three-quarters of the way through the process. Only to meet his alternate self looking through his memories and additional files... And got a very unamused look from the larger animatronic.

-He got put back into unconsciousness pretty quickly.

-When he wakes up again he finds his body repaired and meets his alternate more properly. Which... Honestly doesn't go all that well.

-Pretty much Seraphim Eclipse explains that he's in his universe and he has no way to get back to his own... Which to be frank is probably a good thing, given how he acts.

-Canon Eclipse unfortunately is... Well, Canon Eclipse and starts being the asshole that he is and stupidly starts threatening the bigger version of himself. Which results in Seraphim Eclipse attaching a collar of sorts to his neck that can both shock and freeze up his body to prevent him from doing things. As he doesn't want this jerk sabotaging his life and work.

-Canon Eclipse is forced to to become a janitor and boy does he hate it.

-Things get worse when he realizes that Seraphim Eclipse took his designs for Bloodmoon and Lunar and begins constructing his own versions.

-He has one hell of a tantrum because of this, which Seraphim Eclipse refers to him as a brat for it.

-Gets even more frustrated when this Bloodmoon DOESN'T turn out like his did.

-...he tries very hard to avoid the new version of Lunar outright...

-Overall he's angry. He's angry at the situation he's in. Angry that he's powerless and likely not going to be able to return to his home universe... But the thing that enrages him the most is how Seraphim Eclipse gets to have all the things that Canon Eclipse secretly wanted. Things that he WOULDN'T have without having STOLEN it all from him.

-He's just... In a very bad place.

Next up is Seraphim Eclipse!🔥

-Once he aquires the Pizzaplex and implements the changes he desires, it should be noted that everything runs far more smoothly and efficiently. For both the human and animatronics that work there.

-Far less health and safety code violations.

-His skills for hacking and creating false identities and establishing various contacts is put to good use and he creates a fictional persona of 'Fredrick Bearson' for Freddy. So that he can essentially become Gregorys adoptive father. And even sets up a comfortable apartment for them in another section of the Pizzaplex.

-This undoubtedly comes from his programing in regards to taking care of children; in this case a very roundabout way and recognizing that the boy was in better hands with Freddy than he was living on the street homeless.

-When dealing with the children in the daycare, he's extremely patient and takes everything very easy. He can be firm if he needs to be, such as putting some children in time-out, but his calm easy-going demeanor makes him very good with his job.

-He is EXTREMELY claustrophobic. Due to his trauma of being locked away and trapped within his body, he has severe issues with enclosed spaces to the point that he will have panic attacks and could even become violent in his attempts to free himself from any sort of 'confinement.'

-That being said, he refuses to acknowledge he has a problem and just tries to shrug the past and its pain off. Like it's over and not going to affect the future.

-He's in denial he needs help.

-He also fully realizes how dangerous it is to keep Canon Eclipse around . But... He cannot help but feel immense pity for him and even sees the sickening possibility that he could have ended up just like him. Bitter and hateful. So in a way he hopes that he might somehow find a way to actually help him.

-He has good intentions but not always the best execution...

-In that regards, his more negative aspects are that he is known to carry grudges and he has a LONG memory. Pissing him off is a very bad idea because he can also be vengeful and in some instances... Capable of excessive cruelty.

-His more negative qualities mercifully don't surface often.

-His most treasured possession is his sword, which is a Nodaichi. One crafted by an expert craftsman from Feudal Japan. It was given to him by Twila, Cassie's aunt.

-She obtained the sword from someone who was throwing out all of his grandfather's possessions and unaware of exactly what he was disposing of... and once thrown out, Twila scavenged it and prepared to list it on eBay.

-Seraphim Eclipse is fully aware of how valuable such an item is, as genuine 'Real' swords can be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. He was reluctant to accept it, but Twila pointed out she would rather have her niece safe than money. He eventually accepted and has treasured it since.

-Nodaichi swords are typically two handed weapons, but Seraphim Eclipse is strong enough to wield it with one hand. He has a fighting style that varies between one handed and two handed. Often if one hand is free he will use that hands flamethrower.

-He fully acknowledges he is modeled after an angel and now owns a sword that he knows how to wield. He is the embodiment of the meme 'I have the power of God and Anime on my side!' and he gets a good laugh out of it.

-Unlike Canon Eclipse, he builds his Bloodmoon and Lunar not to be tools, but to be his brothers and he adores them both. But occasionally he butts heads with Bloodmoon due to his rash behavior and at some of his Lunar's more mischievous antics.

-"I love you both to the moon and back... But damnit if there aren't some days I want to leave you up there..."

-That being said, picking a fight with them is a great way to get on his bad side very quickly.

-When his Lunar's magic begins to affect him, the first thing that happens is his wings are reconstructed and become far more 'Bio-Mechanical' in nature. He gains the ability to fly and with six wings he is not only fast, but can turn on a dime.

-He also becomes fireproof, and his flamethrowers no longer seem to need to be refilled. Rather function in a more magical means. The way he wields his fire powers is similar in motions to a firebender from Avatar.

Now for Arc Bloodmoon

-As soon as Seraphim Eclipse activated him, Canon Eclipse dove for cover behind a table, expecting the worst... And this Bloodmoon immediately shot straight up and raced outta the workshop. But it was because he was created with a high amount of excess energy. And he just starts parkouring around the daycare.

-He initially appears to be harmless. Just extremely high energy with the equivalent of ADHD.

-Like Seraphim Eclipse, he works in the daycare and his high energy and playful nature make him a huge hit with the kids. Often wearing them down so they are ready for naptime. Which he himself might join them on. As he tends to fall asleep in random places when his energy gives out.

-He only has two wings, but his wings were built to be functional in flight. When he doesn't need them he can drape them over his shoulders to make it look like he's wearing a cloak. He also has the same type of 'tail' that Seraphim Eclipse has.

-However... Things don't really remain quite so simple in this instance.

-It becomes obvious that he definitely is more aggressive than Eclipse is. Get him to the point he wants to fight and it's very difficult to get him to stop.

-His playful antics go over well with virtually everyone he knows... But then he started trying to tease Canon Eclipse, but it ended with Canon Eclipse snapping that he's going to turn into a murderous double personality freak and he's going to laugh when he starts killing innocents for fun.

-That froze him down to his core...

-He proceeded to look through the data on his brothers computer and saw what Canon Eclipse meant... What he was modeled after... And it deeply disturbed him.

-Worse yet he had started to develop a deep bloodlust and craving for blood.

-...he has to restrain himself all the time...

- Eventually he finds that Strawberry Jam acts as a decent substitute for his blood cravings. Maybe it's just a mental trick, or just internal desperation, but he consumes A LOT of it. He will however hunt down rats and rip them apart for their blood on the occasion that the jam doesn't quell the craving.

-When they start having interdimensional adventures he is able to channel his aggression much better in fighting enemies and Eclipse realized he would fight better with a weapon or two.

-Seraphim Eclipse takes him to Twila, who not only owns the scrapyard, but also does custom forging swords/daggers as a side job. To order him custom swords.

-When Bloodmoon sees her... He immediately becomes smitten.

-His wings flutter around her a lot...

-He grows to visit Twila quite often and they become a good friends. Which is beneficial because there are idiots who break into her scrapyard. And he has FUN scaring them off.

-He does bite people...

-He also develops a sort of friendship with the displaced Sun/Moon/Eclipse that live at the scrapyard.

-Being at the scrapyard lessens his secret bloodlust.

-Twila eventually gets him his scarf, which he never takes off... Accept when his brothers fight to get it off him on laundry day. And even then he doesn't leave the laundry room.

-When he gets his katanas, his style of fighting is that he will just slice his opponents apart. He gets joy and satisfaction from spilling his enemies blood and will feed on it.

-Internally though, he's stressed. As he is deeply afraid that he might lose control of himself and kill and maim people like Canon Eclipse's Bloodmoon.

-He DOES have a second personality that had just been napping a lot during his initial awakening. When it had just started to be active is when Canon Eclipse snapped at him and when they both learned about their... counterpart...

-The second personality... chose... To just stay hidden. In an effort to prevent their combined fear of turning into a monster from coming true.

-But he is so alone...

-When the primary personality goes to sleep the secondary personality occasionally takes control and might eat more strawberry jam on toast rather than just straight bread. Or... Might pick up and hug their Lunar for seemingly no reason. Or randomly go to where Seraphim Eclipse is sleeping and wrap one of his wings around himself.

-There is a way to tell which personality is active though. Their heterochromia... When the secondary personality takes control, their eye colors flip. This and their fighting style seems to become more feral if possible.

-Finally when Lunar's magic starts affecting their lives, Bloodmoon is unaffected. He doesn't develop any sort of magical powers.

-The irony of this is that he does have a desire to create or find a star to use for his own personal reasons.

And finally, Cherubim Lunar

-When Seraphim Eclipse is constructing his version of Lunar he is also looking over the damaged Newton Star that, through the memories of Canon Eclipse, he learned this... Star... Is extremely powerful, but useless in this universe. However... He begins to try and modify it. But ends up fragmenting it to pieces which mostly fizzle out. Still somewhat curious if any effect at all could be had, he collects the fragments and uses them as he builds a custom heavy duty battery. Which he uses for Lunar.

-The immediate effect is that all of his internal wiring begins to glow the color of soft blue moonlight.

-And his Lunar awakens with a cute yawn and stretch.

-Seraphim Eclipse just shrugs. No longer caring if it actually did anything. Just hugs his new little brother.

-This Lunar is built to be like a Cherubim, which are actually angels of Mercy. Playing further into this, Lunar has an incredible amount of sympathy for people. Even the individuals who Seraphim Eclipse would have given up on. He can see if there is even a tiny light left inside of a person.

-He has, almost from the moment of his creation, had access to vast amounts of magic. Also seemingly just knowing how to use it without training.

-His powers appear to primarily be 'Healing' even to mechanical beings. In fact this ability is so potent that it can also trigger mutations, such as making machines more 'Bio-Mechanical' such as his mutating Seraphim Eclipse's wings to the point they function and allow him to actually fly. The feathers actually growing and shedding (And the sheddings having magical residue within them.) And in some instances, he can even revive a completely destroyed animatronic. But the catch is that it will not be to their original design, but instead to whatever mental image Lunar has for the new body.

-Here's looking at you Killcode...

-While his magic is potent in his own dimension, but in other dimensions he is much more limited and can completely drain himself if not careful. How much energy he expends can truly wreck his systems if he overdoes it. Eerily similar to star power...

-The glowing star on his tail can separate from him and will randomly float around him until he wants it to reattach. No explanation is ever given about this.

-Also jokes that he regularly converses with stars. And that he likes most of them. (Might not be a joke...)

-Seems to have a desire to help Canon Eclipse even more than Seraphim Eclipse does. Though Canon Eclipse goes out of his way to avoid him.

-His desire to help him doesn't mean that he won't confront him with some very hard truths. Which usually gets Canon Eclipse even more upset.

-Canon Eclipse has chased him away once with a broom...

-BAD DECISION; as Seraphim Eclipse was immediately upon him and was snarling at him while his sword was ready to behead his alternate in defense of his sibling.

-It scared the hell out of Canon Eclipse. Seeing Seraphim flip on a dime and become borderline manic. Given how large Seraphim is, that's a pretty horrifying image.

-Fortunately Lunar and Bloodmoon were able to pull Seraphim off of Canon. Bloodmoon commenting that Canon isn't even worth the energy for the kill.

-This was the first time that Lunar and Bloodmoon started to realize that their older brother... Wasn't completely alright.

-Life is frickin complicated no matter what universe your in appearently.

(Aaaand that's it. Holy hell that was a lot to write... In any case I hope this was interesting to read. 😅)

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zoeykallus · 2 years

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While working my retail job, sometimes I think how would the Bad Batch do if they had to work manual labor jobs ? Maybe they are short in missions and had to resort working odd jobs for credits XD I can’t help but think of tech starting at the bottom and ending up being a manager in no time , Wrecker being a stocker and stacking stuff so high. Basically the guys dealing with customer service lol

Interesting thought....

The Bad Batch HC - Jobs Outside The Army

The war is over, and the boys need regular jobs. Let's see what they do....

_________

Hunter

He probably works with animals or on the high seas. He's smart, he could do a lot of things, but he's more comfortable working outside and not being surrounded by too many people. You know those documentaries about fishermen in Alaska? He probably does something like that, grows a beard, and learns to swear like a sailor. At least for a while. He'll travel a lot and take a while to find the one job that makes him feel at home. Finding a partner to settle down with will probably speed up that process.

Wrecker

He still likes to blow things up! Wrecker most likely works in a quarry or mine. At least for a while. However, Wrecker is a big fan of snow. Discovering the beauty of the mountains, he overcomes his fear of heights, and it could be that someday, somewhere he is drawn to the mountains, where he joins a rescue unit and helps rescue missing climbers, he's got a rescue dog too, names him 99.

Echo

It took a little while, but he has his own workshop, speeder, shuttles and freighters are repaired and beefed up at his place. Among his employees are some who, just like him, lost limbs in the war. With him, everyone can prove themselves and become a part of the successful workshop, a chance for quite a few veterans who otherwise wouldn't have had a place to go. Tech helps with the financial stuff.

Tech

Starting out as a small programmer in an open-plan office, he quickly made a name for himself. His superiors are absolutely delighted with his efficiency, his perceptiveness and his idea of improvements. Tech very quickly has his own office and much more challenging jobs than before. However, he doesn't stay there long, either. He discovers his love for video games and begins to develop some himself. Tech is rich in no time. Together with Echo, he also plans to expand Echo's workshop to give even more veterans work and a roof over their heads.

Crosshair

He earns a spot on a special operations team used for hostage situations and the like. "So, what do you do in a hostage situation like that?" "I get to shoot the maniac holding the hostages". "…oh" He likes the job, it's something he's very good at, and it's not that badly paid.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@puppetswithteeth

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@starwarsnerd111

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lifetimeroofingmelbourne · 18 days

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Why Colorbond Roofing is the Best Choice for Melbourne Homes

Choosing the right roofing material is crucial for homeowners in Melbourne, given the city's unique weather conditions and architectural styles. Colorbond roofing has emerged as a leading choice for many reasons, from its durability and aesthetic appeal to its energy efficiency and sustainability. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into why Colorbond roofing stands out as the best option for Melbourne homes.

Exceptional Durability and Longevity

One of the primary reasons Colorbond roofing is favoured in Melbourne is its exceptional durability. Made from high-quality steel, Colorbond roofing is designed to withstand harsh weather conditions, including heavy rains, strong winds, and intense UV radiation. The material undergoes rigorous testing to ensure it can resist chipping, peeling, and cracking, making it a long-lasting investment for any home.

Resistant to Corrosion and Rust

Melbourne's coastal environment can be challenging for many roofing materials due to the high levels of salt in the air. However, Colorbond roofing is specifically engineered to be resistant to corrosion and rust, thanks to its advanced coating technology. This makes it an ideal choice for homes near the coast or in areas prone to salt spray.

Minimal Maintenance

Unlike traditional roofing materials that require regular upkeep, Colorbond roofing is known for its low maintenance requirements. Its non-porous surface prevents dirt and debris from accumulating, and the baked-on paint finish ensures that the roof retains its appearance with minimal cleaning. This means homeowners can enjoy a beautiful, functional roof with little effort.

Energy Efficiency and Sustainability

With increasing awareness of the need for energy-efficient homes, Colorbond roofing offers significant advantages in this area. Its innovative design helps regulate indoor temperatures, reducing the need for artificial heating and cooling.

Thermal Efficiency

Colorbond roofing is available in a range of colours, including lighter shades that are designed to reflect more of the sun's heat. This thermal efficiency helps keep homes cooler in the summer months, leading to lower energy bills and a reduced carbon footprint. Additionally, Colorbond steel's excellent insulation properties can help retain warmth during the colder months, ensuring year-round comfort.

Environmentally Friendly

Sustainability is a key consideration for modern homeowners, and Colorbond roofing delivers on this front. The steel used in Colorbond roofing is 100% recyclable, making it an environmentally responsible choice. Moreover, the longevity and durability of the material mean fewer resources are needed for repairs and replacements over time.

Aesthetic Appeal and Versatility

The aesthetic appeal of Colorbond roofing cannot be overstated. Available in a wide range of colours and profiles, Colorbond roofing can complement any architectural style, from traditional to contemporary.

Extensive Colour Range

Homeowners can choose from an extensive colour range to match their personal style and the overall look of their home. Whether you prefer the classic hues of Monument and Surfmist or the vibrant tones of Manor Red and Cottage Green, there is a Colorbond shade to suit every preference.

Versatile Design Options

Colorbond roofing is also incredibly versatile in terms of design. It can be used for various roofing styles, including flat, gabled, and skillion roofs. This versatility allows architects and builders to create unique and eye-catching designs that enhance the curb appeal of any property.

Enhanced Security and Safety

Safety is another critical factor that makes Colorbond roofing an excellent choice for Melbourne homes. Its robust construction provides enhanced security, while its fire-resistant properties offer peace of mind in bushfire-prone areas.

Fire Resistance

Colorbond roofing is made from non-combustible materials, making it highly fire-resistant. This is particularly important for homes located in bushfire-prone regions of Melbourne. The material's ability to withstand high temperatures and resist ignition can help protect your home and its occupants during a fire.

Strong and Secure

The strength of Colorbond steel provides an added layer of security against potential break-ins. Its durable construction makes it difficult for intruders to penetrate, ensuring that your home remains safe and secure.

Cost-Effective Investment

While the initial cost of Colorbond roofing may be higher than some traditional roofing materials, its long-term benefits make it a cost-effective investment.

Long-Term Savings

The durability, low maintenance, and energy efficiency of Colorbond roofing contribute to long-term savings. Homeowners can expect to spend less on repairs, replacements, and energy bills over the life of the roof, making it a financially sound choice.

Increased Property Value

Installing Colorbond roofing can also increase the property value of your home. Potential buyers are often willing to pay a premium for homes with high-quality, low-maintenance roofing. This makes Colorbond roofing an attractive feature that can enhance the resale value of your property.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Colorbond roofing stands out as the best choice for Melbourne homes due to its exceptional durability, energy efficiency, aesthetic appeal, and safety features. Its long-term cost-effectiveness and environmental benefits further solidify its position as the preferred roofing material for discerning homeowners. Whether you're building a new home or replacing an existing roof, Colorbond roofing offers a versatile and reliable solution that meets the diverse needs of Melbourne residents.

Ready to upgrade your roof to the best choice for Melbourne homes? Contact Lifetime Roofing today for a consultation and discover how Colorbond roofing can transform your home. Our experienced team is here to provide you with top-notch service and ensure your roofing project is a success.

#colorbond roofing #roofing contractor #roofing melbourne #roof replacement #roofing company #roofing services #roofers #roof repair #roof installation

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cleanearthfunfacts · 1 year

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Title: A Comprehensive Guide to Creating an Eco-Friendly Home 💡🌱🌍 Entertaining Guide on Environmental Awareness, Sustainable Living, and Renewable Energy Solutions | Clean Earth Fun Facts

Introduction:

Welcome to Clean Earth Fun Facts, your go-to source for fun and entertaining facts about our planet and how to keep it clean and green. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore various strategies and tips for creating an eco-friendly home. By incorporating energy-efficient appliances, sustainable building materials, and water conservation strategies, you can reduce your environmental footprint and contribute to a sustainable future. Let's dive in!

Chapter 1: Energy-Efficient Appliances

Understanding Energy Efficiency Ratings

Look for appliances with ENERGY STAR certification

Consider energy-efficient models for refrigerators, washing machines, dishwashers, and more

Lighting Solutions

Switch to LED or CFL bulbs

Utilize natural light through skylights and windows

Install motion sensor or timer switches to save energy

Smart Home Technology

Invest in smart thermostats and programmable HVAC systems

Control lighting and appliances remotely to avoid unnecessary energy consumption

Use power strips to eliminate standby power

Chapter 2: Sustainable Building Materials

Choose Renewable Materials

Opt for sustainably harvested wood and bamboo

Explore alternatives like reclaimed wood or recycled materials

Consider cork or linoleum flooring instead of vinyl or carpet

Energy-Efficient Insulation

Install insulation with high R-value to reduce heat loss

Consider eco-friendly options like cellulose or wool insulation

Seal air leaks to improve overall energy efficiency

Green Roofing Options

Explore cool roofs that reflect sunlight and reduce heat absorption

Consider metal roofing, recycled shingles, or living roofs (vegetation)

Chapter 3: Water Conservation Strategies

Efficient Plumbing Fixtures

Install low-flow toilets and showerheads

Use faucet aerators to reduce water flow

Repair leaks promptly

Rainwater Harvesting

Set up rain barrels or cisterns to collect rainwater for gardening or flushing toilets

Direct downspouts to water plants and trees

Landscape Design for Water Efficiency

Choose native, drought-resistant plants

Group plants with similar water needs

Mulch garden beds to retain moisture

Conclusion:

Congratulations on taking the first step towards creating an eco-friendly home! By implementing the strategies and tips discussed in this guide, you can significantly reduce your environmental impact and contribute to a sustainable future. Remember, small changes can make a big difference. Join us at Clean Earth Fun Facts in spreading awareness and inspiring others to embrace sustainable living. Together, we can make our planet cleaner, greener, and healthier!

Don't forget to follow us on social media:

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Welcome to Clean Earth Fun Facts, your ultimate source for entertaining and educational content about the environment, sustainable living, and renewable energy solutions. Join us as we explore fascinating facts, tips, and celebrations related to a clean and green planet.

🌍 Environmental Awareness Videos: Dive into our collection of thought-provoking videos that raise awareness about the importance of preserving our planet and inspire positive change.

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Sit back, relax, and let us entertain and educate you with fascinating facts and inspiring stories about our incredible planet. Don't forget to subscribe to our channel and hit the notification bell to stay updated on our latest videos. Together, let's make a difference and create a cleaner, greener world!

🌍 Welcome to Clean Earth Fun Facts, where we bring you the most fun and entertaining facts about our planet and how to keep it clean and green! 🌱 Our goal is to spread awareness about environmental issues and inspire people to take action towards a sustainable future. 🌍 Join us on this journey to learn, laugh and make a difference! 🌍

I am an environmental enthusiast. I have a passion for creating a cleaner and greener environment, and I believe that we can make a significant impact with your help. As an advocate for a more sustainable future, I have created the "Go Green Clean Environment Initiative" to support our community's transition to a more eco-friendly lifestyle.

With your support, we can make a positive impact on the environment and reduce our carbon footprint. Our goal is to make our community a model of sustainability for others to follow.

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Your contribution will help us further Clean Earth Fun Facts content creation. We believe that every little bit counts, and we appreciate any donation, no matter the size.

Together, we can make a difference and create a cleaner and greener future for our community and the world. Thank you for your support!

Welcome to Clean Earth Fun Facts, your ultimate destination for all things green, sustainable, and eco-friendly! Join us as we explore environmental awareness, conservation, renewable energy, and more. Our channel promotes green living, sustainable practices, and the importance of biodiversity. Dive into a world of eco-consciousness and discover green initiatives, reduce your carbon footprint, and become an eco-warrior. Learn about sustainable fashion, wildlife conservation, and the latest green technologies. Let's make a positive environmental impact through education and advocacy. Together, we can create a cleaner, greener future for our planet. Subscribe now and join the Clean Earth Fun Facts community!

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If you're looking for captivating videos on environmental awareness, sustainable living tips, and entertaining facts about the environment, you've come to the right place! 🎥🌱 Join me on https://michaelanthonyhoga6.wixsite.com/youtubecomcleanearth for an engaging journey towards a cleaner, greener planet.

Let's spread the word about the importance of conservation, climate change awareness, and the wonders of renewable energy solutions. Together, we can make Earth Day celebrations a year-round event!

Remember, every small action counts. Share the knowledge, embrace eco-friendly practices, and let's create a brighter future for generations to come. 🌎💚

Join the Clean Earth Fun Facts movement and be part of the solution for a cleaner, greener, and more sustainable planet! Our website is a hub of valuable information and resources dedicated to spreading awareness about environmental issues and promoting sustainable living practices. We provide engaging content, including informative articles, entertaining videos, and interactive quizzes, all aimed at educating and inspiring individuals to make a positive impact on our planet. If you are an advertiser who shares our vision for a better world, we invite you to partner with us. By placing your brand on our platform, you can reach a passionate and environmentally-conscious audience eager to support businesses that align with their values. Leave your information below, and our team will get in touch with you to discuss exciting advertising opportunities. Together, let's create a sustainable future and make a real difference for generations to come.

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