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incarnateirony · 3 months

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I truly never thought I'd have to do this kind of craft work on a human, but I think that's it, I don't see her as that anymore and she voluntarily signed on, against my consent, so now we're here.

Yeah, lady, the world itself looks really weird, every screen name is a triplicate joke, the audience barks when I tell them to just like you do, and you're being mined, and the universe is returning it back to you in reflections while you get hollowed out and replaced by whatever the fuck I put in there since you refuse to stop. And there's literally millions of us and them now. And you're stuck until you make the only intelligent choice, and I think you're too far gone for that.

Welcome to how a real Magician does battle. But spit on a crystal for me. That'll save you from me successfully warping reality to end you slowly and miserably, sure.

Ability restrictions temporarily lifted until the enemy is rendered Silent.

Print me out another warning sign that's meant for you.

Humanity is all one giant Soul, Shealyn, and so is he, formless and partless, and humanity, and you refused to ever get to know him through yourself, and you repress and deny and run from anything of your own, and try to steal the identities of others, so like, the You, that is an Identity with some Real Estate on the World Soul? Sis there ain't much there. And with most of it being you strapping my identity over you, I'd win even without you signing to me like an octopus jibberish spewing dumbass.

Like, it's just gonna get worse. It's very much an unbroken circle. Several actually. Your material is mined, and either given to me, distributed to the focus of others and dissolving into the universe, and then the universe trades that in the current timeline for the same information being displayed, and now glitchtrap turned the pizza plex into the sewers of the dark hour, and multiple Tartari are hitting to reinforce this focus, and more games and queues are already locked and loaded. 100 million eyes right into conceptual Tartarus, atop the 30M I already had banging around in there that pointed out to the others that it was fuckin Tartarus, thanks. Yeah, figure it out, sweetheart, you're FUCKED.

Even your own interests, what few are actually yours, soon will not even be safe to engage with anymore. Time to climb Tartarus hunters, on Supernatural Sundays.

It doesn't miss me that, through all of this nonsense, you've seen me as Loki, or Anubis, or Eros, or the Reaper, or whatever the fuck, depending on what I'm using to skin your grey matter at the time, but in all of this, you never even once appealed to your fake voice of hermes you claim to be a priestess of, which is incredibly odd. Maybe because you know how quickly you'd get embarrassed, and instead choose to embarrass yourself with this other shit.

You said you didn't want anyone who wouldn't defend you. Where the fuck is he? Oh right, not defending at you. Helping me slap possessed cat memes and christmas in the pit jokes on the backbrains of the internet backrooms while you wander around lost amidst the dancing shrimp of everyone knowing your shit subconsciously. Fuck me running. Neverminding you just deadass letting your grampa get basically nuked. Not my fuckin fault, side effect of your OWN choice to sacrifice him, how this shit works, the beacon and everything set up. Sorry, he got shredded. You coulda just stopped but now I think he's part of the deadpool reaper or what the fuck ever that became.

Catch a clue bitch, even if I don't call it magic, what I'M doing is "magic". What you're doing is regressive coping with some roleplay elements. It's not the same thing.

The gods are not your stuffed bunnies, your comfort pals, they're not in love with you, you do not have nightly couch parties across seven pantheons where they make sure your delirious ass feeds fluffy because you're such a pretty special princess that doesn't have to do anything. You are a schizoid with disassociative habits that has manipulated and deleted real narratives through life to make it by, and conned everyone around you including yourself, and built an altar to my face to speak divine octopus jibberish, because you can't let go. And now, the couch party of gods in your head is all me poking you when I find it funny, because you are only possessed by two things: your obsession with me and inability to let go, and by proxy of pissing me off this bad by me myself now.

Did you think I was kidding when I said I'd End this one way or another now that your titanically stupid ass set off the acme trap? Release Coyote, goddamn. Let me go. I'm sorry I wasn't able to guide you and I'm sorry I or even he didn't know how to help you find yourself, we tried to give advice and you always went the other way, even when we were on good terms, hence Driving In Reverse. But this shit is gonna end. For the years of pain and grief you've caused me, and the harassment, and all of the bad information you've given to people that encourage opposite-land behaviors to what the god you're claiming teaches. As is point proven in the difference, while you bounce around blind as my radio receiver and start unspooling and I'm just over here moonwalking to it while mutating into the god of memes, like, what's not clicking. Let me go.

Do you even understand what an insufferable piece of shit you've had to be to make me go to this limit? You didn't even know I could do shit like this, you saw parts close to it, or elements of it used in other things, but you never saw this, and sure as shit don't understand it. I've never done this to anyone ever. Ever. You are a first and probably the last. But there is so much harm, and ill will in you, you're just here to wander around selfishly caging what you can and trying to annoy them to death while KNOWING you're full of shit, even indirectly admitting it recently. Like it's OVER, you got ONE CHOICE AND REFUSE, so yeah, we're gonna keep minecrafting you to bits and see what happens when I rebuild a different human from the inside-out.

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lalalaure · 3 years

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I have no self control. And I simply just HAD to make this Victuuri. Because Reasons.

[credit for the prompt to @writing-prompt-s , check them, they're GREAT]

Imagine, super duper cutesy couple Victor and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov. You know, the ones that always coo at dogs they see while having their morning run or the ones who never forget to double tip those poor overworked waiters. The kind of people to kindly smile at a grumpy looking stranger just to brighten their day, if only a little.

[It always works and how can it not when they see how cute Yuuri's dimples are? How much Victor's sea blue eyes sparkle in the sun when he smiles?]

Anyways, they have a secret.

That, per se, is not something extremely surprising. Everybody has secrets. But theirs? Oh boy, theirs is maybe the biggest, and best kept, secret one could ever come across on this Earth.

Imagine Mischievous Supervillain Victor Nikiforov.

[more after the cut]

[And yes, I know, everybody seems to be convinced that my boy 'Stammi Vicino' would be a superhero and I always ask myself why, like, have you heard the part where he skates to what literally translates to: "I'd like to cut open with a sword the throats of all who sing about love"

like,

that's murded bby boy

so anyway, enjoy catsuit clad extra supervillain Victor Nikiforov]

Icy eyes, cold smile, long hair [yes, he has long hair here, because I Say So] so light and bright they almost look white. White as the colour of his sinfully thight catsuit that literally leaves nothing to the imagination.

["It's for practicality, Yuuri. How do you expect me to climb walls and rob the pants out of those filthy riches without it? It helps me bLeNd iN tHe sHaDoWs!"

"It's literally white."]

Donned with surprisingly strong ice powers and inhuman reflexes, he is a 'rob the rich to give to the poor' kind of guy. They call him The Coreographer: lethally smart, silver tongued and so pretty he could kill a man with a look, [he never did, though, he believes in peace] a literal mastermind of crime but mortally bored with his dull, empty life. That was, until our dear Katsudon Fatale entered the game.

Imagine Insecure Superhero Yuuri Katsuki.

Ah, my boy Yuuri. Cute smiles and soft caramel eyes that always seem to hypnotize everyone around him to bow to his every command. Literally.

When our cute chubby 12 years old Katsudon firstly discovered that he could LITERALLY TALK PEOPLE INTO DOING ANYTHING HOW lS THIS HIS LIFE HELP HIM PLEASE HE IS SCARED.

And that didn't help his anxiety. At all.

This way, he learns the Weight of his Words and always saves them for when they are absolutely necessary.

How he came to be a superhero, he still doesn't know. He suspects it to be Phichit's fault.

How he came to meet The Coreographer, through a collaboration he did with Yuuri's Squad, befriend him and find beautiful Victor inside that hardened mask of cool and composed, still baffles him.

He still remembers that night, in front of the sea, where, after almost three months of collaboration [because this time it was serious, this time there were lives at stake and he had done nothing to stop it before, but now that light was in his life again Victor would be damned if he let this one happen, if he, voluntarily, let other people, other children, suffer like he did] Yuuri still let his doubts get the best of him and screamed at Victor for all he did, and didn't do, before.

He immediatly regretted it when he saw those perfect blue eyes swell up with tears and regretted it even more when Victor finally told him about his life. Stories about being beat up, when he was still an orphan on the streets, for who he was, for his Power and about how people, bad people, had tried to use him for their own gain. He told vague stories about friends of his who had died of starvation during the night, in the cold cells they were kept in all day, from where they could exit just to be experimented on because they were weapons, not people.

["But you were only ten, Victor. Do you mean to tell me that they...?"

Victor's silence was loud and clear to Yuuri, who felt his stomach churn with a venoumous kind of anger he had never felt before.

"I'll make them pay."

And he meant it.]

Soon, Yuuri hopes, Victor would also talk to him about his time on the Squad (although a different one) that likely shaped the person he was today, but that he soon left. Yuuri came to know this from his first, real, researches on The Coreographer, head burrowed in some dusty, old documents he found on the Squad's Main Head Library. He always felt a bit guilty about that.

[Later, Victor will explain to him that, while it had indeed been a good time in his life, prolific for the shaping of his mind and his morals, the Squad, like any other organization, was not keen on butting heads with wealthy, well paying criminals. He learnt that the hard way. So he left, taking up the pieces of his heart that shattered when he understood that his life in the Squad had been a big, fancy, lie and that if he really wanted to do something he had to do it by himself, on the streets.]

To this day, Yuuri is still baffled that this wonderful person, this precious fighter chose him. Who was he, anyway, to deserve his love?

But he has stopped fighting against it and learnt to accept it as it is. To always love and protect Victor who, despite of his fucked up childhood and teenage years, has taught him to love and protect himself, too, for being exactly who he is. Him, too, an anxious, sweet, precious, fighter. Even when his mind makes him weak, he will rise again and fight for what is right. [Victor's words.]

But he has to believe them, after all, those were his vows on their wedding day.

So, one day when he has to change his costume and finally, finally he can desing it himself [that meaning that Victor can picture it exactly as he wants] he doesn't even flich when it turns out to be an exact copy of his husband's catsuit, a little less thight, with more pockets and also a belt and wow, a trasparent jacket too. He is in awe of the colour, a perfect shade of blue, similar to his husband's beautiful eyes. It is perfect. And it's his.

He wears it everyday.

His eyes are a little teary though, when he finds himself in front of his husband during work. They caught The Coreographer and his team stealing some important antiques from a house. A house that, mind you, was owned by a disgusting, oily little man who had too much money, and too less respect for his own good. He knew his Vitya's project and knew that those money were going to benefit an hospital of sick children in Malaysia. But still, robbing was against the law. That meant that Yuuri had to find a way to distract his team, again, to help his idiot of an husband escape with the money, again. The nerve of that man.

But when he saw him, all clad in his new pink costume that MATCHED YUURI'S, [a distant part of his mind reminded him that he, Yuuri, had chosen the colour as well, during one of the nights where Vitya was being all weird about colours and kept asking him for what was, in his opinion, the perfect match to blue] etheral hair flowing in the wind and beautiful heart-shaped smiled aimed just at him. And, oh, he was weeping at the sight of his beautiful husband that finally, finally smiled again and...

The weight of his Squad's stares was heavy on his shoulders and, oh boy, was this going to be a long one to explain.

As usual, REBLOG is fine, REPOST only with my permission :))

[love y'alls]

#yuri on ice #yoi #yuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #long haired victor nikiforov #long haired victor nikiforov is better #i have no self control #my work #do not repost #srsly dude #i'll fight you #superhero au #victuri #superheroes and villains au #how much I like this au #hilarious not really #writers on tumblr #hilarious-not-really writes #victuuri

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labarboteuse · 3 years

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Your requests are open?! I'd love to ask for something with Babe, if you don't mind luv 🥰

Hello dear! You asked for it and here it is! Sorry it took so long. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy ! ❤️

As always, there's no disrespect towards the real men of the company. It's only based on their portrayals in the mini serie.

The scarf (Edward "Babe" Heffron x reader)

After months of trying to hide their relationship from others, Babe and the reader are finally getting busted.

Warning: coarse language

Also I’m creating a taglist, tell me in comment if you want to be added and be notified of the following ones! ☺️

Recently arrived in Germany the Company had moved to Landsberg am Lech, a town in Bavaria, and their mission had become much calmer than it had been in Bastogne and Haguenau. Everyone was enjoying the nice weather of April and went about their business while waiting for orders. Y/N had enjoyed this morning to sit quietly in a corner and write letters to her family and friends, informing them she was still alive, that she was fine and that she was now in Germany. She had then gone to the post office where Allen Vest was in charge of the mail.

“Morning Vest!” She sang in a cheerful voice as she approached the counter where she put down her letters and dragged them towards him.

“Hi Y/N, hey, that's a lot of letters for one person.”

She smiled and put her both hands on the counter, tapping the varnished wood with her fingertips. Indeed, she had taken the time to write to her parents, her sister, her uncle and a general letter addressed to her group of friends who met each time to read her letters.

“Yes, I’m enjoying this time of lull, after all we don’t know where we’re going to be sent next time.”

Allen took the letters while gently smiling at her and then went to the back of the room to classify the letters to be sent and rummaging through a pile of other letters he came back to her one in his hand.

“I thought well I saw one with your name on it.”

He reached out to her and was about to add something when the door opened sharply and Speirs appeared with his arms full of objects shining in the sunlight. As he approached the counter, Allen nodded to Y/N to make her understand he had to take care of Speirs. She smiled at him and walked out of the building with her letter in her hands. She immediately recognized the fine italicized handwriting and smiled excited to know what it was about. She walked along the buildings as she read the letter, which provoked a huge smile on her lips when she was suddenly pulled into a corner between two buildings and drawn away from prying eyes.

She began to laugh as the man who had lured her there, placed behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, came to place a kiss on her neck and put his head on her shoulder.

“I missed you so much.”

“We've literally been living together for eight months.” She laughed, placing her hands on his forearms resting on her belly.

“You know exactly what I mean.” He moaned as he put his chin on her shoulder and looked at the letter she was still holding in her hands. “What is it?”

She looked down at the letter and unfolded it to put it in front of his eyes.

“My sister announces me that she’s finally getting married! It's planned for next winter, she obviously hopes that by then it will all be over and I'll be home.” Her voice became lower and dull at the end of her sentence. Of course everyone was hoping for it, but no one really knew what tomorrow was all about and where they would be and when.

Babe tightened his clinch and kissed the top of her head.

“Are you planning to go alone?” His question caused her to pout and then she laughed.

“Are you asking me if, if all this happy mess is over, I'll ask you to come with me?” He shrugged his shoulders and had a sly smile. “We don't even know where we'll be, and let's say we go back, we'll pick up our lives where we left it off, and they probably weren't going in the same direction.” She continued.

She fell silent and stared at the letter in her hands, for the few months she have been going out with Babe she had never thought what would happen once they got home, if they got home. Babe untied his arms around her and slid his hands over her hips to make her turn to him.

“I know that wherever yours goes, I will follow it.”

Her heart clutched to his words, she had not expected him to make this kind of announcement at all, the smile on his face made her melt and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him tenderly and then came to put her head on his shoulder. They stayed hidden like that for a few minutes, taking advantage of finally being able to speak to each other with more than just distant smiles.

Since the Company had returned to England after the D-Day and had met the replacements Y/N and Babe had become inseparable, at last, until they started dating. They had chosen not to tell the others about it so that the others wouldn’t spend their time teasing them. They had managed to keep the secret until now, which had been difficult since they were constantly surrounded by the other men. In order to prevent them from suspecting something Y/N and Babe had to stick to the friendly relationship that the others knew about them. Nevertheless, they had always managed to slip away for a moment for a hug or a kiss, all the way to Bastogne. They had never been so far away from each other when they were closer than ever physically. Being constantly surrounded by others in the middle of the woods and sharing their foxholes with different people, they could only look at each other from a distance. At best, they sat next to each other during the few moments when everyone was together, constantly living with the frustration of, at least, not being able to touch each other's hands.

A couple of times, Babe had managed join her when she was alone, while McClung, with who she was shearing her foxhole, was going out for a ride. But it had happened only a few times, and further apart so as not to arouse suspicion. These times would had been counted on the fingers of only one hand. She too had sometimes managed to join him but unfortunately they were almost never alone. One of the only contacts they could have had without anyone questioning was when Julian was killed, she would have died of pain if she hadn't been able to comfort him, it was the only time they could hold each other without it seeming weird. After that, for several days, it had been unbearable for him not to be able to take her in his arms when it was she who started brooding. To be able to take her in his arms, to interlace her fingers with his own, to caress her cheek and whisper to her that everything would be all right. This time he had been on the verge of cracking up, because instead of his place, there was Toye. Joe was constantly near her to cheering up her moral and several times had taken her in his arms. Bill's recurring jokes about Toye flirting with Y/N were upsetting Babe, who would have wanted told his friend to shut up. Being almost always with Guarnere, he therefore constantly heard his jokes. His only comfort was the smiles and looks of Y/N to reassure him.

But now they were away from it all, they just had to take advantage of the lull that presented itself and allowed them to spend time together out of sight.

“We'd better get to the others before they wonder where we are.” She reluctantly detached herself from him. “You're leaving first?” Obviously they weren’t to be seen coming out of a corner together, that would have been the worst thing to attract attention.

He nodded and kissed her before taking a look at the street so he can get out. Y/N waited few minutes before being able to follow in his footsteps and reached the building where she was staying. Entering the building, she heard noises coming from one of the rooms of the first floor which was a big living-room and headed there. Liebgott was sitting on a chair, crossed legs on the table, was discussing with Popeye and Babe who had probably come here voluntarily to be in the same vicinity as her, which had the merit of making her smile, was leaning next to them against a piece of furniture. She joined them as Alley, Talbert, Janovec, and More arrived in the biggest racket they could make and took their places around the table.

Y/N remained standing on the other side of the table, leaning against the wall, while Babe in front of her was join by Skinny who had just arrived. Her eyes were drawn to something sticking out of Babe's pocket, her heart quickened and she tried to catch his attention with desperate glances, if he didn't notice then they were busted.

A small scarf she had given him was sticking out of his jacket pocket. She had taken with her a scarf that had belonged to her grandmother and that she had recovered when she died. She had always kept it on her ever since and had always managed to hide it so that it wouldn't be taken away like the rest of their personal belongings when she arrived in Toccoa. She valued it very highly, and when she was feeling bad, she would take it out and hold it close to her, remembering happy memories of her grandmother who she missed terribly.

The only person today for who she had been able to part with it, was someone who meant as much to her as her grandmother, Babe. She gave it to him as the most important thing for her, making him understand how much she cared for him. As they didn’t belong to the same platoon they were not always brought to be close to each other, and the scarf was like her presence to him, so that somehow they are always together. Since then he kept it preciously knowing what it meant to her.

When Babe's gaze caught hers, she tried to make him understand that the object was sticking out of his pocket by throwing looks at him and then at his pocket several times before anyone saw it, but he didn't understand and it was too late. Joe had turned his head to address him and his gaze had landed on the object of the crime. With a small laugh he gently pulled it out.

“Well, well, well, what do we have there? Isn't there something you're not telling us Babe?”

Embarrassed, he understood what she had wanted to warn him about and babbled, not knowing what to say. Y/N came to his rescue, looking surprised, she approached Joe and took the scarf of his hands.

“Eh that’s mine! Where did you find it?”

It took Babe a split second before he realized she was saving his ass and played along.

“I found it by chance on the floor this morning and I was going to bring it back to you, it must have slipped my mind in the meantime.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked sorry.

Joe looked at them suspiciously, not at all convinced, his gaze going back and forth between Y/N and Babe who unfortunately always seemed embarrassed. Feeling Joe's insistent gaze on her, she finally dropped a “What?” He squinted his eyes as if he was trying to read her soul.

“Throw out the crap that burns your lips, Joe.”

“Are you two fucking together?”

All heads turned to Y/N and Babe, some surprised, others giving the impression of having heard the biggest gossip of the century.

“No!” They both exclaimed.

“He’s like my baby brother!”

Babe flinched at her words, he knew she was just saying that to keep up appearances, but all the same, this false friendzoning was rather violent.

“So you're fucking your baby brother?” Joe continued with a smirk on his face, still not believing it for a second.

“Jeez, Joe!” She exclaimed in disgust.

Malarky arrived at that moment having only heard the end of the conversation.

“Who's fucking who?”

“Y/N is debauching Babe.” Laughed More.

“Jeez!” Malark exclaimed as he sat down, a more than amused look on his face.

“Stop it! All of you! Nobody fucks anybody!”

Babe was still silent next to her, completely uptight. The boys were laughing at their greatest embarrassment when Luz, who had heard only fragments of the conversation from the next room, arrived with a cigarette lit.

“Who's gonna have a baby?”

Which fueled the boys' hilarity, Y/N raised her hands and clenched them in fists and roared in frustration before going out cursing them. As for Babe, he didn't know what to do, if he stayed there he was going to be teased by his friends, but if he followed her he would agree with them and would grill himself.

With her cheeks on fire, Y/N left the building to get some fresh air, finding a small wall in the shade and, away from the crowd, she sat down and lit a cigarette before puffed at it when a shadow came and hid the sun from her. She raised her head, squinting because of the brightness, and reached out her arm, offering her cigarette to Luz who had just joined her. He picked it up and as he held it to his lips, sat down on the wall beside her.

“You and Babe then?” he asked with a sly smile on his lips. So her diversion hadn't worked, at least she had tried. She turned her head towards him raising an eyebrow, a slight smile on the corners of her lips as she waited for him to pull out a joke. But he didn't, instead, he took the cigarette from his lips with his right hand, and as he blew the smoke, passed his left arm around her shoulders.

“If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have accepted it. But Heffron? I can get used to it.”

She laughed and took the cigarette from his hands and puffed at it again.

“Is this your way to give me your blessing?”

George was the person she was closest to since Toccoa. Even without the incident that had just happened, he had probably guessed what had been going on for a few months. The two had quickly went together like horse and carriage, they had found each other in their humour, and their ability to make others laugh and make jokes. George soon considered her as a little sister and she as a big brother. As soon as the replacements had arrived he saw that she and Babe had gradually grown closer and that they had probably become more than friends. He had been happy for her and continued to look after her from afar.

“So everyone knows about it? Or did you just sniff it out?” She asked, shoving him gently, which made him giggle.

“Let's say I've seen you gradually change, especially when you're with him.”

If the others probably didn't suspect anything, after the scene that just happened, they will most likely have suspicions.Y/N bit the inside of her cheek and made a grimace that made George smile and took the cigarette out of her hand.

“What are you worried about? No one will say anything, at worst they will tease you for a while before they get bored and move on.”

“That's exactly what we wanted to avoid.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You know it will be just joking, in all kindness.”

She turned her eyes towards him and he gently pushed her around, which made her smile. George was right, there wouldn't be anything mean about it, and she never doubted it, it would just make her embarrassed that everyone would turn to them and tease them every time they were in each other's presence. But as he said, it would only be temporary, the time they spend on something else.

“You're right, it wouldn't be the end of the world, and we wouldn't have to hide anymore.”

He nodded his head and winked at her.

“Listen to the voice of reason.” She guffawed what made him smile, he stood up and kissed her on the forehead before returning to the building. Y/N stayed sitting on the wall for a few minutes thinking about what George had said. She had finally agreed with herself that her fear was unjustified, the Company members were so benevolent to each other, why would they go against this relationship? Other than to tease and embarrass them, what could they possibly say? They were already spending all their time making fun of each other and joking that nothing would be different. It was out of fear of being embarrassed by the mockery of others that they had chosen to hide, when they would only be mocked among so many others. She shook her head gently as she realized that this decision had been ridiculous. To have done otherwise would surely have saved them from frustration when they had found themselves far away when they needed each other the most. They had to stop hiding, and once the others knew about it, they could enjoy each other in peace. Loud noises of voices caught her attention and she turned her head towards the group of men a few yards away. She put out her cigarette and stood up to see what was going on. Two groups had formed, one playing soccer and the other surrounding them, each one cheering for the team they stood for.

She saw Babe from afar and made her way to him. As she stood next to him, she slipped her hand into his as he turned his head towards her with a questioning look. Y/N gave him a warm smile that he returned to her. To hell with what they might say.

#band of brothers #babe heffron #edward heffron #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers request

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theangrypokemaniac · 4 years

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@nyarthsis

If Team Rocket 'always had a heart for unpopular Pokémon', that's an admission their Alola catches aren't particular loveable creatures, so I'm not thinking anything too controversial.

You're saying they take pity on the animals no one wants, as in it's normal for me not to find them adorable.

Some Pokémon, such as Lucario, become fan favourites without the advertisement of a regular role the anime. With Wobbuffet, Bewear, Stufful, Mareanie and Mimikyu, do people like them for themselves, or because of their association with Team Rocket?

I think its the latter. I can't imagine there would be such interest in them were they to be owned by a Twerp or appear as a one-off. Really then, it's not what or who they are, it's to whom they belong that matters.

Alola has really devalued catching. Rather than be true to the source material, so battering a Pokémon into submission, as Ash did with Bulbasaur, Primeape, Muk, and many others, now you have to ask their permission!

Bewear didn't even get that. She hung around for no reason, and her 'friend' Stufful was belatedly tacked on. I see why those two were left behind, as Team Rocket had no right to take them elsewhere.

In terms of welfare, Mimikyu and Mareanie are better off staying with them, free and safe, rather than locked in the insalubrious depths of H.Q., but then it never bothered the writers sending previous Pokémon into an uncertain future, so what difference does it make now?

It can only be that, like their predecessors, there is no intention to ever bring them back, but unlike the rest, the fans can't even be allowed the vain hope of a return, not with this rather awkward disposal.

It's feasible that Jessie and James could call their base and request old monsters to join them, but it's difficult to imagine they'd fly across the world to Alola, wander through the woods, pick 'em up and go all the way back again. Why make parting so final and irreversible?

It does imply that Game Freak don't like them, so why should I?

I keep noticing this fickle attitude. A new era starts, we're expected to fall instantaneously in love with every element, beg for more and yet more. Then, once the next region arrives, this adoration asked of us is meant to evaporate and immediately transfer to the next batch.

Well why start to like them, if eventually the makers don't care, to the extent you wouldn't even know previous Pokémon had ever been alive?

Have you heard one mention of Seviper, Yanmega, Dustox, Cacnea, Carnivine, and Mime Junior since they left?

Why were they happy to chuck Wobbuffet after Sinnoh, yet fetched for Kalos?

How could Team Rocket live without it for an entire generation but suddenly it's indispensable again? What do you imagine the rest of their Pokémon felt about that?

Have Jessie and James wondered allowed how Arbok, Weezing, Lickitung and Victreebel are doing?

What of the last two generations?

What is this nonsense where every character is so detached from the past?

Supposing I was to force myself to appreciate them: since they've gone, never to return, I'd be dissatisfied with the show, thus no better off than I am now.

My feelings don't run on a switch. I can't find myself besotted one minute then dump the object of affection without a second thought, just because Nintendo want it from me.

Even if I had a more positive opinion of the current interpretation, there's no benefit to becoming involved when it's all so fleeting.

Mareanie is ugly, with three teeth. I think he's a sea anenome, so ought to be more attractive, but it's covered in nipples instead!

It looks like a bonsai tree growing breasts, reminiscent of the hideous content lurking within an Hieronymous Bosch painting.

The idea that all Mimikyu copy Pikachu, the most famous Pokémon, when in their world it's nothing special, is too stupid for me to accept. How could that be coincidence?

It's referencing reality, acknowledging the real world's view of Pikachu as the star, so if it's breaking the fourth wall, it invites disbelief.

Wobbuffet does sod all. It's a complete dead weight and has no attacks. Yet it's the one to survive generation after generation. Where's the logic in that?

I suspect his popularity rests on being there so long he's considered part of the furniture, the sole catch in which you can invest an emotional connection whilst fairly certain he'll remain around.

By now it ought to have developed some semblance of a personality, but it's as faceless as ever. Other Pokémon that have been and gone had a bit more about them, but Wobba's so bland no one can summon the energy to write him out.

If he went, what would you miss? Breaking out of his ball and hissing 'WAAAAAHBUHFEH'? Is that so integral?

I have several objections:

What is it meant to be?

Why does its tail have eyes?

Why is that never mentioned?

Is it a sort of quadruped, or has it only one foot with four toes, arranged like the bottom of a medical walking stick?

A lot of my reactions to Pokémon are influenced by encountering them in the games. With Wobbuffet, I remember first coming across it in the cave near Blackthorn City, and just as you're winning the fight, it pulls out Destiny Bond and suddenly you're both down.

When you finally get one, it's tricky to train. You have no choice but to guess whether the opposition will launch a physical or special move, and mostly you get it wrong. He never learns anything else and doesn't evolve, so it's that forever.

Persevering with Magikarp is worthwhile, but what's to be gained from taking any time out to fight with Wobbuffet?

The anime eliminates this problem. You're aware of the nature of the approaching onslaught because you can see it coming, and the opponent said it aloud.

In this context Wobbuffet should be the most powerful Pokémon in the universe. Come on, it can deflect every attack!

Is it? No. It has a successful defence about once a generation, and still loses the battle. I can't say if it's worse to be utterly pointless, or to not fulfil one's potential.

I resent it muscling in on the motto, as if it's considers itself of equal rank to Meowth. No it's not!

When I was young, there was a tendency for magazines to refer to Team Rocket as a duo. Meowth was judged to be in the same position as Pikachu: a main character yes, and valuable enough to be accorded the privilege of liberty, but still very much owned by people.

You would see references to Jessie and James as his Trainers, though how they assumed this worked went unexplained. Even if shared, one had to have to caught him, thus be his proper owner.

Later on this developed into them being three equal members, and the term 'TRio' emerged, but now, although perhaps not officially recognised, there's an attitude of treating them as a quartet.

It's just wrong! Wobbuffet's not been around since day one. He didn't join Team Rocket voluntarily because he had nowhere else to go. It was a choice made for him by his original Trainer, so out of his hands, or rather his flippers.

If he was an independent Pokémon who just tagged along one day, that would be different, but it belongs to Jessie. Promoting one of hers means James is lesser, and no longer equal.

In each generation Team Rocket catch at least one local Pokémon, but as Wobbuffet's there, it ends up with Jessie having more on her side than James, and I dislike the imbalance. Plus the one he does get is violent.

It can't be solved by giving him another new one, as then he's captured two in the region, and she has only one, so again it's skewed.

Whilst Wobbuffet does count in numbers, he's not on the level of the rest, who fight regularly. He's both there and not simultaneously.

I'm still irked the way Lickitung was ejected to make room.

It was the best Pokémon they ever had! It took out Pikachu, Vulpix and Bulbasaur with one move! It would've won those Princess Dolls for Jessie if the writers hadn't changed the rules so that Lick only affects those of sound mind!

It was as if they realised their mistake too late, and so Lickitung was featured less and less to avoid it dominating a fight, then hurriedly traded away for something reliably feeble.

The following analogy you may not understand, but I think it fits rather aptly:

There's a game called Final Fantasy VIII. One of the side quests involves you racing through a castle under a time limit. If successful, you are rewarded with Odin as a Guardian Force, which is a deity that will provide a defence.

Unlike others, he is out of your control, but every so often, as you enter battle, he turns up and annihilates your opponents. It's very welcome.

Unfortunately this game was programmed by bunyips, who clearly didn't want the last section of the game to be accidently easier for you. Oh no. If you're progressing, it ain't gonna be through luck, or turning the console on and off until he arises.

Therefore, towards the close, you come up against ex-friend Seifer. Odin is fixed to rush to your aid, but when he does, bloody Seifer slices him in half, horse and all!

He killed Odin, the ancient King of the North! The Lord of Valhallah! The Father of the Vikings!

It's not normal fighting death, it's irreversible. He's gone for good.

After this Gilgamesh introduces himself as a replacement. He too will randomly appear and set about the enemy.

The problem is that whilst Odin destroyed monsters unfailingly, with Gilgamesh it's a rarity.

He uses four swords, and which you get is also a lottery.

One is the same as Odin's, two deal average damage, but not death, and the worst one depletes 1 HP, so it might as well not have bothered.

Not only does it arrive but a fraction of the time, but it's in a fraction of those times that it's of any assistance, which is something of a comedown.

Lickitung is Odin: didn't see it often, but it tore the place apart!

Wobbuffet is Gilgamesh: once in a blue moon it provides rescue, but it's on a lot lower percentage than it's predecessor.

It's difficult not to be disappointed.

#team rocket #wobbuffet #mareanie #mimikyu #bewear #stufful

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thehumantrampoline · 5 years

Note

E/R 8, 9, or 18 (or all three cause you love me)

OH TRADING ON THAT I LOVE YOU STATUS HUH I SEE HOW IT IS.

Fine but just bc I'd do anything you ever asked me to and you made me popcorn last night

("things you said when you were crying,” “things you said when i was crying,” “things you said when we were the happiest we ever were”)

It isn't a proper meeting, really, just a small envelope licking session. There hadn’t even been many words spoken, or a lot of work done. That’s not why Enjolras wishes more people had shown up, though. If it were a real meeting, there probably would be someone in attendance who would know what to say or do, as the cafe closes up and Enjolras packs their supplies, about Grantaire starting to cry as he leaves. But it’s not, and there isn’t. There’s only Enjolras, and he’s not going to just pretend he didn’t notice.

“Hey, hold on a second,” he calls, jogging out the door after Grantaire. Grantaire stops and turns, swiping a little at his eyes as Enjolras approaches.

“What can I do for you, Apollo?” he asks, his voice just a little wobbly.

“Are you… okay?” Enjolras ventures. Grantaire gives a watery laugh and pushes the heel of his hand into one eye.

“Fuck, chief, did nobody ever teach you to pretend not to notice when someone cries?” he says.

Enjolras freezes. Courfeyrac would never have made this mistake, he thinks. But Grantaire grins crookedly and shakes his head.

“I’m kidding. I’m fine, I’m just… leaking depression juice, you know, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you sure?” Enjolras frowns. He is not reassured by Grantaire’s smile faltering.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s just… it’s a lot, sometimes. You know?” Enjolras doesn’t know, but he doesn’t say so. A fresh tear breaks down Grantaire’s cheek, hastily brushed away. “Shit,” he mumbles. “This is so embarrassing. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” says Enjolras, because it is. “If you ever need to talk,” he adds, because it seems like the right thing to say.

Grantaire’s smirk returns a little, as though he finds the offer as ludicrous as Enjolras does. Who would voluntarily talk to Enjolras when they were crying unless there was nobody else available?

“Thanks,” says Grantaire. “See you next week, yeah?” Enjolras nods. Grantaire nods back, and Enjolras stands in the dark and watches as Grantaire walks off.

II.

Combeferre is running an errand with Feuilly. Courfeyrac is manning their homemade hotline. Several of the are already out on the streets. All in all, it seems nobody but Grantaire notices when Enjolras slips out into the hall, leaving his phone behind on the table.

Grantaire isn't sure what he's expecting to see when he follows Enjolras to the hall, but it isn't this. Enjolras is leaning against the wall, his head bowed and his hand over his eyes.

“You okay?” Grantaire ventures, and Enjolras looks up. Grantaire was guessing at a headache, was about to offer to hunt down some aspirin, but Enjolras’s eyes are red and wet, and Grantaire takes an involuntary step backward.

“Grantaire,” he greets, wiping his cheek. “Did you need something?”

“Just checking if you were okay,” Grantaire repeats, because he suspects Enjolras didn't hear him the first time.

“I'm fine,” Enjolras says, wiping his eyes more firmly, and Grantaire takes a‍ step forward.

“Hey,” he says. “You don't have to be fine if you're not.”

Enjolras stops at that, as though the thought hadn't occurred to him until now.

“Thanks,” he says. “It's just…” He pauses, searching for the words. Grantaire thinks of the crisis still carrying on in the room behind them, the mess Enjolras probably left behind on his phone.

“It’s a lot,” Grantaire says. “I know.”

Enjolras nods.

“It... is,” he says slowly. “Yeah.”

“Take a few minutes, dude,” Grantaire says. He hesitates, almost doesn't offer because why would Enjolras want him hanging around, but. “Do you need any company?”

He's surprised when Enjolras nods, but Grantaire comes over and leans against the wall next to him. He digs in his pocket and holds out a battered pack of doublemint.

“Gum?”

Enjolras laughs and takes a stick.

III.

Enjolras is so focused on remembering his lessons and not stepping on Grantaire’s feet, he almost doesn’t hear Grantaire saying his name.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire says again, and Enjolras focuses on his face again.

“Hm?” says Enjolras. Grantaire’s eyes are twinkling.

“Be in the moment,” Grantaire murmurs. “It's just a dance.”

“It's our first dance,” Enjolras says.

“We've danced before,” Grantaire says. “We'll dance again. As soon as this one's over, even.”

Enjolras puffs out a faux-irritated breath at the willful misinterpretation, and Grantaire laughs gently and squeezes his hand.

“Hey,” says Grantaire, and smiles. “Love you.”

And that's all it takes. Enjolras isn't thinking about the steps anymore, or how the pictures will turn out, or even the roomful of their dearest friends surrounding them. He isn't thinking about the thousands of little moments that got them here. He's just thinking about Grantaire's dark eyes, and the privelege of holding him.

“I love you too,” he says, tears starting to prick his eyes.

The look on Grantaire's face says he knows exactly what he's doing as he smirks and adds, “husband.”

Enjolras's vision blurs, and Grantaire laughs (sounding pretty watery himself) and bumps their foreheads together.

“It's a lot, right?” he says, and Enjolras shakes his head.

“It's exactly enough.”

#look at this sappy nonsense i just wrote #I blame Audrey even though she isn't in this fandom for making me Soft about Varric and Hawke getting married #les miserables fanfic #e/r #les miserables modern au #my fanfic #original posts

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theclaravoyant · 6 years

Note

I just saw your post about "taking meds doesn't make you weak" and it made me kind of emotional, so, you know, if you ever feel like writing Fitz taking his meds (and getting the care he deserves/needs, tbh), I'd lowkey die. Love you.

AN ~ That’s my secret Cap, I always feel like writing about Fitz taking his meds and getting the care he deserves/needs :P I tried to fit in an S5 section but I couldn’t find a way of dealing with That Ep that sat well with me so have some S2 May & Fitz instead.

Also suits @leofitznetwork‘s May is for Mothers challenge. Happy Mothers Day!Also tagging @agentcalliope bc I haven’t seen her around these days but the spirit of Mamma May & Fitz’s brotps are always with us both.

Read on AO3 (~1300wd)

Help

When May heard the knock at her door, she wasn’t expecting it to be Fitz on the other side. He didn’t tend to voluntarily seek out interaction with anyone these days. Still, she was glad to see him – even if the way he curled his shoulders and looked at the floor was so different than before. He’d always been a little bit shy, but when it came to his work, he’d been just as proud; defensive, even a show-off at times. She hadn’t even really noticed, that unstable coexistence was part of him, until it had disappeared.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, barely more than a mumble.

“Of course. Come in.”

It was curiosity and sympathy in equal parts that made May stand behind her desk, welcoming Fitz into the room with his armfuls of blueprints. Fitz met her eyes asking for permission for something, and when she provided no objection, he moved her chairs about until he could spread his blueprints over a bumpy self-assembled surface. He’d drawn a plane. An impressive one. She perused it carefully for a moment, before Fitz called back her attention.

“It’s- it’s a plane,” he explained. “Bigger than the Bus. Better. More… More… Better, it’s just, it’s better.”

He waved dismissively over his shoulder at something she couldn’t see, and then quickly shuffled through the blueprint sheets to find the one he was after. Perhaps he had been contemplating explaining the many features of the plane to her, May speculated, but upon realising how hard it would be, had decided to skip ahead through the presentation. She waited patiently, until she realised that he was holding a pen out to her. The sheet now at the top of the heap was some kind of control panel – the cockpit, she realised.

“You’re the pilot,” he said. “It’s yours.”

May took the pen. “You want my opinion? My thoughts on this?”

Fitz nodded. He watched the tip of the pen. May pulled off the cap but couldn’t quite bring herself to unnecessarily mark his meticulously drawn plans. How long must these have taken? So instead she handed the pen back and simply pointed out:

“It’s good. But if you can get this and this closer together, that would be better. Also, if this switch could be on the left –“

“I can do that.” Fitz smiled, hopeful, and made a few scribbles on his plan anyway. “Anything else?”

“I suppose Coulson wants a cupholder?” May let her lip curl up in a smile and Fitz snorted. It was not so long ago that he and Coulson had theorized adding all manner of ridiculous unnecessary installations to the Bus; it seemed only logical that, even in their more thrifty circumstances, at least some amenities should remain. Gleefully, he made a note of this.

Then he looked over his shoulder, at nothing again, and frowned. Scowling back down at the blueprints before him, his grip tightened on the pencil until the nib pressing into the paper snapped. May frowned too.

“You okay?”

Fitz waved her off, cursing as he erased the nonsensical spattering of markings he’d just made. “Tired, that’s all.”

“Have you taken your meds?”

“N-No.” Fitz ducked his head. May’s eyes narrowed slightly and he felt the need to explain himself. “I don’t like it. It makes me feel gross.”

“Gross how?” May put a hand to her stomach. “Gross here?”

“No. Gross. Bad.” Fitz struggled to say what he meant. There must be something, the word for it, the word for what he felt when other people looked at him, when they saw him taking medication or talking to himself or rocking or stuttering. When the doctors talked slowly to him as if they thought he might not understand. It reminded him – it reminded him of how Ward and his dad and that lot had always looked at him. “Weak.”

May raised her eyebrows a little.

“You think taking your medication makes you weak?” she asked him. “Makes you a worse Agent?Fitz shrugged. He wanted to say how he didn’t think that was possible, how being like this was about as useless as he could get as far as being an Agent was concerned, but try as he might he couldn’t object: he liked the sympathy. His body and mind lapped it up. It had been so long, he thought, since somebody had even tried to understand.

“Fitz,” May went on, her tone concerned and a little scolding. “Do you know how many other people on this base take medication?”

Fitz shrugged again.

“Do you know I used to take medication just like yours?”

That stopped him. Puzzled him. He looked up, fixating on May’s face and checking for tells – people were lying more and more to him these days, and he wasn’t always good at knowing when. But she seemed earnest. That didn’t fit. How could that crawling pity, that sense of helplessness, how could that reconcile with one of the strongest women he knew? How could anyone dare look at her like that?

“You remember The Cavalry?” May pressed.

Fitz nodded, a little hesitantly. He still felt bad, for being one of thousands of people who’d once made jokes out of that. He’d still not apologised. Not technically. But he did remember.

“After that, I went through… a very bad time,” May continued.

This made Fitz feel worse. He wasn’t much used to her confessing that anything was a very bad time. If he knew stoics – and he did – that was more than an understatement.

“I did a lot of things to get through it,” May explained. “I did meditation, I did exercise, I did all those things – it wasn’t until much later I had medication. I thought like you. I thought it would make me look weak, make other people think badly of me. Now I think it was what helped me get strong again. I had a life once, and it fell apart because of what happened in Bahrain. Sometimes – sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d taken the advice of a man I once knew, and tried it a little earlier. Maybe I wouldn’t have lost… what I did.”

Fitz blinked, bewildered and a little overwhelmed. He’d never heard such a string of words come from May’s lips, not authentically at any rate, and that was alarming enough. The thought of her, though – her, of all people - having her body, her life beyond her control too; having a blanket of depression that was perhaps even heavier than his; it was a sobering thought.

It had sobered her too, apparently, and she drew a rattling breath.

“Look, all I’m saying is, medication is a tool,” May clarified. “You know for a fact it helps you, and only you know how much. Only you can decide if it’s worth it in the end, but what matters is: it’s okay to need that help. It’s okay. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Really.” May swallowed, hard. “Don’t let yourself lose what I lost just because people look at you differently now. They’ll do that anyway. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself.”

The way May held his gaze when she finished sent a chill down Fitz’s spine. It was as though he’d witnessed some sort of witching hour, a realm just a little outside reality. Yet the way her eyes pierced through him was as real and as May as anything he’d ever felt. More than anything, it told him he was loved here. He was loved far and away above the value of his sketches or his words or even his badge. He was loved beyond any sense of weakness that he might be thinking they perceived.

But he wasn’t sure how to tell May he’d figured out any of this, or how much he appreciated it, so he simply nodded instead.

“I will.” And gathered up his sketches. “Thanks for your help.”

“If you need anything else,” May said, “let me know.”

#leo fitz #melinda may #mamma may #leofitznetwork #aosficnet #fitz #mamma may & her ducklings #prompt me stuff #clara's fic tag #florchis

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storydays · 3 years

Text

"Gods have mercy!" Scholar Vash cried. "Angus...Grenn..." Ezra placed his head in his hand. "Oh no.." Nia covered her mouth with her hands, before kneeling down next to Agnus' body, brown eyes glistening with tears. Her lips moved in a silent prayer. A faint golden glow surrounds her, and a warm breeze rustles the overgrown grass..but then faded away.

"I can't help them, they're gone. Beyond the Light's reach." she said sadly. "I can't believe this. We saw them alive just last night." Ezra muttered. "With the adventurer, Mal! Y-You don't think..." Kade looked at his brother nervously. "Mal didn't do this. I can't know for certain but..I don't think this was his doing. There's nothing in it for him; neither Angus nor Grenn had anything worth stealing." Ezra said, firmly.

"Yeah, I agree. I don't think this was him." agreed the younger. "But then...where is he? And who did this?" looking around as if the brunette was hanging around. Scholar Vash paced around, shaking his head. "This is an affront to the Light! A blasphemy! Whoever is responsible has desecrated a place of worship. A holy place!" He ranted.

"Ezra, what should we do?" asked Kade, looking at his brother hopefully. "I'm going to examine the area. There are bound to be clues around here." The thick, unkempt grass is difficult to see through, but after a moment, Ezra's sharp eyes could see a pattern emerging. His hand hovered over the faint trail of trampled grass, until he saw multiple pairs of footprints.

"Looks like the victims were ambushed here. Probably by a group lurking behind this column, there's at least six sets of ambushers' footprints. " He mumbled out loud, forgetting about his audience. "Six?" Nia squeaked. "And one of them is massive." The elf concluded.

"Six enemies, one of them massive...not a fan of those odds. Do you think this has something to do with the relic?" Kade asked, running a hand through his hair. "Speak clearly now, boy. What relic?" Vash turned towards the teen, who shrugged. "I don't know! It's just something Mal said back in town! That he had a tip there was a powerful relic, and he was going to find it."

"Then it's true; I had to hope it was a myth, but by the Gods above and below, it must be true. I believe there is an ancient artifact hidden deep within this temple. Forgotten to time, relegated to legend. An Onyx Shard." The old man said mysteriously. "Seriously? The Onyx Shards are real?" Kade gaped. "You've heard of them? Kade, what's he talking about?"

"They're the last relics that the Shadow Court left behind after the Great War. Cursed artifacts of terrible power. Very very very bad stuff." Kade explained. "I came upon the locations of the Shards in an ancient text last year. Seeing these bodies here, I may not be the only one who knows their location. Please! If whoever did this is after the Shard, we need to protect it. We can't let it fall into the wrong hands!"

Ezra shared a look with Kade, noting his reluctance before clapping his brother's shoulder, then looking at Vash. "We'll accompany you inside to get this Shard. But if we bump into whoever did this, we're all running like hell. Understood?" "Let's just hope we find it before they do."Vash said gravely. Ezra drew his sword, and led the way to the main archway into the temple grounds.

"This place isn't the best shape, is it?" Kade coughed. "Once it was majestic, regal. Packed day and night. Have we truly fallen so far from the Light?" Vash lectured. Ezra sighed at the sad vines; seeing nature so sad hurt his heart. The group stopped in front of the tunnels, one going left and one going right. "Stop...something feels off. Be careful where you step." Ezra warned. "Ezra? What should we do now?" Nia asked.

"We should look for traps." He crouched to examine the floor tiles on the left side, noting one was raised an inch above the others and gave in slightly when he touched it. "That's a pressure plate if I ever saw one. I think this way's booby trapped." He glanced to the right looking at groove in the floor tile like centuries of feet have worn out the stone.

"The right path looks well-traveled. Let's see where it leads." He decided. The group followed the path which began to slope down, spiraling in on itself. "Gods, how deep does this thing go?" Kade asked aloud. "Only the top level of the temple was open to the public. The lower levels, the catacombs, were for the priests and priestess." Vash explained. "To study and pray?" Nia wondered. "And to hide away from the dark." said the old scholar.

Finally they reached the path deep below the complex. A stone door stands before them, but it was clearly forced open. Ezra held the door open and gaped at the treasure piled up in the grand chamber. "I can't believe this has been here all along! If we explored this place ourselves, we could've become ri--" Kade cleared his throat, catching Scholar Vash glaring at him. "Ri....diculously pious adherents of the Light." Ezra snickered at his brother's misfortune.

Vash approached a pedestal with scattered with golden chains and goblets. He gently picked up a large green crystal the size of a watermelon from the pile. "That is definitely not onyx." whistled Ezra. "No, it's not the Shard," chuckled Vash, "but it's still quite fascinating. I must bring it back to Whitetower with me for further study." Everyone was distracted looking at the treasure. Even Nia was admiring a jewel encrusted old tome.

"I can't believe it...how was here, all this time? And no one ever robbed it?" Kade furrowed his brow. "Maybe, no one knew it was here. Kade, we live a day away and we had no idea." Ezra mumbled. "Yeah, well, it's pretty, but I don't like it one bit. If the people who murdered Angus and Grenn weren't after this treasure...Then what are they after?" "The Onyx Shard." Nia said solomonly.

"We'd better keep moving." Ezra said, standing up. At the end of the room sits a heavy wooden fortified by twisting metal runes. Scholar Vash examines it closely before brightening. "Ah, yes! The ancient elves often used elaborate mechanisms to lock their secrets away. I've always wanted to solve one. They test your deep knowledge of elven linguistics!" He continued on to himself.

Ezra rolled his eyes, Nia and Kade giggling at his dry remark. "That sounds....delightful." Scholar Vash ignored him and focused on the puzzle in front of him. "Seems quite simple...If I just press this...and turn this."

Nothing happened.

"Ah, well. I may need a moment." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Kade cleared his throat quietly. "Psst, Ezra. While he's busy with that, what do you say we keep scoping out this treasure room? I think there's some hidden rooms down the back! We could go check them out...see what else this place has to offer." "Oooh! I would be interested in that! I recall seeing some fascinating statues.." Nia and Kade looked at Ezra expectantly.

"Let's do it. That sounds way better than just sitting around here. Let's take a quick look around and see what we can find." While Vash continues tinkering with the door, the three younger ones headed deeper into the vault. "So Nia, any idea why this treasure is all here?" asked Ezra. "These are offerings. Believers used to bring them as tribute to their Gods." Nia explained. "So like..bribes? People paying off the Gods to grant them fortune and favor?"

"No, not like that. The offerings are given voluntarily, with no expectations of reward. They're a reflection of gratitude, of thankfulness." Nia smiled. "Huh, that seems wasteful." Ezra mused. "Wasteful?" Nia asked, eyes wide. "I'm just saying...think of how many people this gold could feed. Think of how many sick, and wounded, and vulnerable, it could provide. " Ezra bit his lip in irritation. Nia paused, deep in thought.

"I do see your point. There is much practical good that could come from this wealth, but there are other concerns here other than the materials. Faith and devotion, for example. It's not enough to live; It's a question of what you live for." Her smile fell when Ezra scoffed slightly. "Tell that to everyone who's starving." Kade looked around, curiously. "Rationally, I know I should be way more scared given we're in an ancient temple and we just found two people brutally murdered..." he broke into a giant grin. "But I still can't really believe this is happening! We're on an adventure! A real adventure! Imagine what an amazing story this'll make!" He danced excitedly.

"You really love telling stories, don't you Kade?" giggled Nia. Kade's smile dropped slightly, and Ezra's gaze soften. "Well, yeah. Stories are really important to me. They're how I see the world." He hesitated, a somewhat sentimental expression on his face. "I-I was a really sick kid. Bedridden until I was 6, on the brink of death. Stories were all I had, I read every book in town, and when I ran out of books to read, I started to write them."

"Kade was a precocious kid." Ezra spoke softly. "I always thought that was how I'd live life. Ezra was the adventurer, the dreamer. I was content to just read about things like that. But maybe I misjudged myself. Maybe I can be someone who goes out there, who has wild adventures, who sees the world." He peeked through his lashes shyly at Ezra who smiled with joy at his brother. "Maybe I be a hero." Ezra's grin grew wider. "Damn right, brother."

"Look! Over there! A passage!" Nia led the way into a vast hall with mostly crumbled ancient statues. "This is a Hall of Gods! It must be hundreds of years old." The group spread out, gazing at the statues. Ezra walked towards the statue of a winged monstrous warrior clutching a spiked club. Nia followed the elf warily. "I don't know this one...It isn't one of the Gods I recognize." Ezra blinked. "You don't know all of the Gods?" "If you go back far enough you'll find different pantheons and interpretations....But I've never heard of one like this."

Ezra studied the statue's brooding expression, its marble eyes simmering with hate. "I don't like it. It's too realistic." mumbled the elf. "Me neither." Nia shuddered. "Hey!" The two turned towards Kade's shout. "Wanna see something hilarious?" The teen held up an old ceramic vase with a creepy face painted on, and tries to copy its expression, but drops it and winces as it shatters. "Oops." He chuckled nervously. The shards shake and rattle and a spectral shape bursts out, lashing through the air with tendrils of smoking flame.

Ezra quickly ran over to his brother's side, hand on his sword hilt. The spirit hissed, clearly pissed. "What in the hell is that?" Ezra cried. The creature's body pulsed and swelled, hungry eyes boring into the white haired elf, before hissing angrily. "Wait! I know what this is!" Kade called from behind Ezra. "It's a vorglin! I read about that in the Tome of Beasts that traveling merchant had! It's a spectre that feeds off psychic energy, specifically fear! " he explained.

"So," Ezra hummed, "What if we feel other strong emotions? Could that drive it away?" "Actually....yes! That just might work! Think about something other than fear! Think of a time when you felt something really intense!" Kade stated. The vorglin hissed, clearly annoyed. Ezra turned his gaze back onto the red spirit, one of his saddest, painful memories coming to mind. The day he and Kade had laid their mother to rest; their father passed a few months earlier and it seemed their mother couldn't bear to be without her love.

'It was raining, cold and wet. Kade and I were standing side by side, in the field as they buried her, right next to her love. She and Father were the town's best seamstress and farmer, and they would sorely be missed. I was so heartbroken that day, I shut everyone out, Grenn, Annika and I even shut Kade out for a few weeks. I remember saying goodbye.' Ezra blinked when the vorglin pulses, gorging on your emotions. It lets out a satisfied wheeze, before disappearing into a puff of smoke, dropping something on the floor with a heavy thud.

Ezra cautiously approached what was on the floor and nudged it with the tip of his boot. "T-This is solid gold!" He exclaimed in surprise. "Then we're lucky! When a vorglin is fed emotions it doesn't enjoy, it transforms them into an elemental discharge! It's usually iron or brass...but gold? Jackpot!" Kade cheered. "Are you saying that orb is the creature's waste?" Nia exclaimed, disgust clear in her face.

"Heh, it literally craps gold." Ezra snickered, before breaking out into a loud laugh, Kade and Nia laughing along with him. Kade picked up the orb and tucked it into his bag. "Are you all right with is keeping this, Priestess? It's not an offering, and it might be worth quiet a bit." Kade's green eyes shine with glee, and hope. Nia bit her lip before replying hesitantly. "I...suppose." She said finally.

"Now then, let's head back before Scholar Vash realizes we're gone." Ezra said, leading the younger two to Vash, just as he traced a final rune, and the door swung open with a whoosh! The scholar laughed in triumph. "There you go! A piece of cake, as they say! Nothing to it!" He looked back at Ezra who was hiding a grin. "Thank you for waiting patiently, I do hope it wasn't a bother." Gold eyes look over at Kade and Nia before looking back at Vash. "Not. At. All." He chuckled.

Vash gestured ahead, and with a firm grip on his sword, Ezra led the way. "Wait." He murmured lowly. "Does anyone else hear voices?" Knowing his brother's hearing was sensitive, Kade quieted down, and gestured for Nia and Vash to do the same. Ezra motioned for the others to be quite, until Nia spoke up.

"What is that?" she asked in a harsh whisper.

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