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tisfan · 4 years

Text

Lucky Buck’s Magical Coffee

Chapter Two - Working for a Living

Fantasy Bingo: Square Magical Exhaustion

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743212/chapters/60835351

Jarvis flapped Tony’s coat at him as he was ready to leave. “I have insider information that the weather ifrit’s had a fight with his spouse. It may rain later today.” It didn’t look like rain according to the screens that Tony had open that showed the outside world. It looked sunny and peaceful and lovely. But Jarvis was seldom wrong about these things.

The spirit of technology was still relatively young, compared with his brothers and sisters -- spirits of air, earth, fire, water, and void -- having only started coming into being about the mid seventeenth century, or so.

Jarvis himself had been formed in 1835, fathered, one might say, by the invention of the Analytical Engine, in the workshop of Charles Babbage. For a spirit, he was practically a baby. To Tony, he was impossibly old and wise. But then, Tony was a technomage, and spirits of the “natural world” didn’t tend to speak with him.

“Right, so I’ll want an umbrella,” Tony said, digging through the closet for one, “and to bump personal force fields up on my to-do list. And not to suggest a walk in the park for my date. Or maybe I should; Bucky’s a Natural Witch, maybe he’d enjoy getting caught in the rain.”

Tony was on his way to Buck’s Lucky Coffee as soon as he found a functional umbrella, to meet up for their third date, as soon as Bucky turned the afternoon shift over to Clint. He was somewhat unreasonably giddy about it; three was an important number in both the physical and magical worlds, and so three dates seemed... significant, somehow.

He wondered if, after three dates, he could call Bucky his boyfriend, instead of “this guy I’ve gone out with a couple of times.” And why in Turing’s name did he have a pink umbrella with flouncy little ruffles all around its edges? They looked like they’d hold onto water and dump it on you at exactly the wrong moment.

The line wasn’t quite out the door, but only until Tony got there. The next person would, in fact, be out the door. Although that might have been because Bucky had an actual troll as a customer, and he both took up a lot of space and people didn’t want to stand near him. Tony was pretty sure all the nonsense about trolls was just racist bullshit. They did a really good job building bridges, so what, exactly, was everyone’s problem? There hadn't been an incident involving trolls and children in at least a century. (well, sensationalist magazines and abusive parents dragged that story out all the time.)

And even as Tony was putting that together, three more people got into line behind him. The date was not going to start on time, because there was no way Bucky was walking away and dumping a rush like this on Clint to handle alone.

Which was fine, it actually, absolutely was, because Tony was a little overloaded with work, himself, so he could get his coffee and go stake out a table in the corner and knock out a little work on his tablet while he waited. They both worked in customer service; it was a thing you planned around.

Tony squinted up at the ceiling and huffed over the patchiness of the shop’s wards. Bucky was going to have another imp in his espresso machine if the building super didn’t get some fresh protections up soon.

The line inched forward. The troll spoke actual trollish, which Tony didn’t understand. Neither, apparently, did Bucky, but Bucky gestured to Clint, who made a few gestures. SSL -- Supernatural Sign Language, which was left over from when trolls and witches and dwarves all worked together on some of the city projects, and had to learn to effectively communicate. These days, almost everyone spoke English, which seemed very human-centric, come to think of it. Maybe Tony could get some mileage out of a translation app.

“Get me a bucket,” Clint said. “He wants a venti-venti-venti.” Clint signed again, and the troll dropped a gold coin on the counter about the size of a jar lid.

A triple-venti was going to take a while to pull. Tony fished out his phone and started making notes. Translation app, personal force fields, the somewhat sticky problem of a cursed laptop that a college student had brought him that held the student’s only copy of their master’s thesis -- bad idea, that, always have multiple backups -- and thus couldn’t be de-cursed the quick and easy way, which had a tendency to leave a few memory sectors fragged.

The line kept growing behind Tony. But he’d finally gotten up to the second in line when the door pushed open and a tall, willowy woman came in with strawberry blond hair that was soaking wet and stuck to her face. “I don’t understand it,” she said. “It was sunny. The weather report said sunny all day--” She gasped a few times for breath -- if Tony had been running in those shoes, he’d have broken an ankle -- and gazed at the line in horror.

“Ifrit domestic trouble,” Tony volunteered. “Or so I heard.”

“You think I can send him my dry-cleaning bill?” She wrung out her hair and then took off her jacket, flapping water toward the door. Her shell top was sticking to her. “I’m soaking wet, I’m going to be late, I’ve been working the worst hours.”

“Hi Miss Potts,” Bucky yelled from the counter.

“Mr. Barnes,” she said. “Tell me you can save me.”

“I can save you.”

The troll collected his drink -- the repurposed ice-cream bucket still looked like an espresso cup in his huge hand -- and headed out into the weather. The door yawned and stretched around him to make room. That was a neat trick. Tony hadn’t seen it before; tech wizards said it was too hard, and so trolls and giants and some of the taller elven tribes complained about lack of access.

“Huh. I wonder when he had that installed,” Tony mused, eyeing the door, and then his attention snapped back to -- Miss Potts, apparently. “Does he save you on a regular basis? What’s your standard?”

“I’m probably only alive because of Mr. Barnes’ shop,” Miss Potts said. “Have you been here before? I love this place. I would live here, if they’d let me. Working for A Living. I think I might either die falling down the stairs in exhaustion, or actually push my boss down an elevator shaft without it.”

Tony let the two or three people between them skip ahead of him in the line -- he wasn’t going anywhere until the rush died down, anyway -- to make it easier to chat. “I only discovered it a couple of weeks ago,” Tony admitted. “Came in to exorcise the espresso machine -- it’s fine now, don’t worry -- and well, like you -- didn’t want to leave again.” He grinned. “Sounds like your boss needs to pause and have a cup, too. What do you do?”

“Personal Assistant,” Miss Potts said. “Pretty much whatever my boss says to do, all the way from taking notes at meetings to fetching his dry cleaning. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except they’re in the middle of a hostile takeover, and between angry dwarves and multiple on-site labor disputes, I’ve been putting in sixteen hours a day, six days a week, for almost a month.” She did look on the brink of falling over with exhaustion, her hands shaking.

“Yike,” Tony sympathized. “Is this his first hostile? I mean, someone with experience would have known to hire a temp for the duration or something.”

Up at the counter, Bucky was making two Money for Nothings, keeping up an easy patter with the customers about lottery tickets and checking their pockets.

“He seems to think that I’m the only one who can keep this company going,” she muttered. She pulled a magical compact out of her purse and opened it. The compact spouted a few uplifting and cheerful advertising-disguised-as-pep-talk phrases, and then-- “damn.” The purple smoke drifted out of the back and pooled around their feet. “It got wet. I am going to complain to the weather guild about this.”

“Nah,” Tony said. “I mean, go ahead and do that, sure, but here, let me see--” He plucked the compact out of her hand and peered into it. It wasn’t very sophisticated tech, but it only took a little for Tony to be able to manipulate it. A locking clasp, a tiny speaker and some wires connected to a button battery for amplification, and boom, tech.

Tony balanced the little thing on the palm of his hand and let energy flow into his witchmarks, making them glow a bright blue. There were some who said it looked spooky, but Tony had always found the light comforting. He coaxed little wisps of magic up into the compact and swept out the water, reversing some corrosion and a little bit of normal wear-and-tear, and reinstalling the sprite software that had drifted loose.

He popped the lid open again.

“Oh, honey, that shirt with that jacket, really? We’ve got some work to do.”

Tony rolled his eyes at it and handed it back to Miss Potts. “Here you go, good as new.” Well, it might be a little bit sassier than it had been before. Semi-autonomous sprite technology seemed to do that whenever Tony put his hands on it.

“How did you-- thank you,” Miss Potts said. “My name’s Pepper Potts, it’s nice to meet you.” She held out a hand for a professional shake, but when her fingertips touched Tony’s, he felt the brief surge of Empathic Magic. No wonder her boss wanted her on site all the time. Empaths could affect the moods and compliance of people around them with a simple touch.

“Tony Stark,” he said. He considered her briefly. “Want to quit your horrible job and come work for me?”

“Are you joking?”

The woman in front of Tony in line took so long deciding what pastry she wanted with her coffee, Tony was almost certain that her coffee was going to be cold by the time she actually took a sip.

“Here,” Bucky said. “I got yours already, doll. And Miss Potts, I’ll have your life affirming moment ready in just two minutes.”

Bucky put a mug, rather than a to-go cup on the counter in front of Tony. The heart in the steamed milk on top was glittering red and gold at him.

Tony shot Bucky a warm smile and a thanks, and stepped aside with his mug so Pepper wouldn’t have to reach past him when Bucky finished hers. He turned the mug until the point of the heart was pointing straight at his chest -- sympathetic magics always worked better if you gave them a bit of a push -- and then tipped the froth into his mouth. Like it had the previous times he’d had Bucky’s Lucky in Love brew, everything felt extra-warm for a moment, and a little bit sparkly, and behind the counter, Bucky seemed glow, just the tiniest bit.

“I wasn’t joking,” he told Pepper, when he’d finished savoring that first sip. “My dad died a couple of years ago and failed to leave the business to me free and clear, and last year, almost on the anniversary of his death, his old business partner split the company and walked off with about two-thirds of the staff for his branch. I’ve been scrambling to keep up and looking for good people.”

Obie had done a little more than simply splitting the company, but the sob story wasn’t something Tony liked to wave around. Maybe, if she took him up on it, he’d tell her about it sometime.

Bucky, perhaps feeling something going on -- he seemed to have that sense -- put Pepper’s drink in a tall glass, complete with a bamboo recycled straw instead of in the to-go cup. “On the house,” he added, pushing an actual brownie-crafted brownie on a plate at her. “With a little extra daydreams.”

“I would live here,” Pepper repeated, taking a sip of the drink. “So, job. Details. Would you like to do an interview, I could do an interview. Right here. I even have my resume up to date.”

Tony glanced at the line behind the ordering counter, then shrugged. He wasn’t going anywhere soon. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s do that.” He pointed at a table.

It took barely a minute of scanning Pepper’s resume to know that she was vastly overqualified, and probably not getting paid anything like she was worth. She’d successfully negotiated a dozen contracts, as a personal assistant.

A little nudging and she didn’t quite admit to being sexually harassed by her boss, but Tony could sense that maybe that had happened, too.

When Bucky finally came out from behind the counter, leaving Clint to finish out his shift, Pepper was smiling, cheerful, and enthusiastic, and it probably wasn’t all entirely due to Bucky’s coffee.

“Hey, snowflake!” Tony greeted him cheerfully. “I’m going to steal Pepper from her obnoxious boss. I’d offer to pay her what she’s worth, but frankly, I’m not sure I can afford that, so I’ll have to settle for merely doubling her current salary.”

Bucky tapped the plate in front of her, where she’d eaten the entire brownie except for a few crumbs. “Opportunity Knocks brownie. Glad you enjoyed it.” He gave Pepper a wink. “But now, I am going to steal my boyfriend from you, since we have a date as soon as I’m off shift.”

Tony pulled just a little magic out of his phone and flipped it at Pepper’s. “That’s my number,” he told her. “I’ll call tomorrow, and we’re going to do this. Start writing your resignation letter. Hire some clowns to see you out. Or strippers. Stripper clowns?”

Bucky rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know a clown dominatrix,” he volunteered. “She could always use extra work.”

“Perfect,” Tony declared. “Talk to you tomorrow, Pep!” He tucked his arm through Bucky’s and turned them toward the door.

Guess he could start calling Bucky his boyfriend, now. That was easier than he’d thought.

On the way through the door, Bucky offered his hand to the doorframe, cupping what looked like a thimbleful of honey and a tiny piece of bread. “Wood fairies,” he said. “She deserved a bonus after that trick with our Troll earlier.” He glanced up at the sky, which was still pouring rain, and the occasional spates of hail, in anger. “I don’t know if you had anything in mind, specifically, but there’s a traveling mystical petting zoo in the park. They probably have wind sprites to keep the weather off. I always wanted to see a unicorn up close.”

“I’m more of a wyvern man, myself,” Tony said, feeling the happy buzz of Bucky’s potion fizzing through him at Bucky’s closeness. “Yeah, let’s go to the zoo.” He held up the pink umbrella. “I can even keep us dry on the way, if you don’t mind walking close.”

#Fantasy Bingo #Winteriron #magical coffee shop AU

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incorrecttwoset · 4 years

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Lesson time with Dani:

youtube

I think the lesson here is that... you cant destroy your self esteem if you dont have self esteem. Gosh, this is the first time im rewatching this in days and im IMMEDIATELY REMEMBERING THE TALENT.

Onto the reviews!

My little swiss roll by a 33 year old Japanese composer. If it is not yet clear, i cannot read Japanese. And Eddy, we don't make you fat you just like eating. (omg i like eating too! Soulmates confirmed?! Yeah nah my heart will always be for my brettybae) Also, fUCK now i want bubble tea. (I am smelling bubble tea right now. Even though there is no bubble tea. Am i gOING INSANE.)

1. Kitai - Anticipation. Oh, i can dEFINITELY feel the excitement in this one. Is there a word for excitedly waiting? Or is that just the word anticipation? Because let me tell you, i genuinely yEARNED for swiss rolls with that part. Its so light and joyful, like watching a baker prepare your swiss roll as a young child who's most important worry is the swiss roll he's about to eat. Yes, there are some questionable parts but overall, i think the bois conveyed the proper emotions and feelings correctly. Its either that or my stomach is asking me to eat breakfast.

2. Gochiso - Feast. I am already getting an image of putting a piece of cake in your mouth and savoring the wonderful sweetness and flavors of the cake, icings and fillings. The way your face slowly turns into a smile as the sugar dissolves and spreads onto your tongue and the way the fork just cuts the soft cake. And the strawberry topping you pop in your mouth. Thank you for that perfect pizz. Turned my heavy romance fluff fic back into a happy lil comedy.

3. Akogare - Longing. Okay, this is too sad to be felt IMMEDIATELY AFTER eating the cake. Its still fits the title of longing its just wOAH OKAY EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH EXISTS. If this was set like a story thing, i feel like this takes place after our protag has left the bakery and has lost the sweet taste of swiss roll cake from his lips. And started to yearn once again for more, the faint flavors of his tongue reminding him of a happier time. A time with swiss roll cake...

Damn now i want swiss roll.

Aviolintango by Lorezno Gutierrez. wOAH THIS ONE SOUNDS EPICCCCCCCCCCC. Dude, this sounds like something that could play in like a fight or chase scene in a fight scene. Its pretty short but its still a wonderful piece. And that soft troll ending? Perfect. Not just because of the reactions. Because youd want it to end on an even bigger grander note than the one before it right? But, the composer decided to step away and let the cheeky spy vibes flow until the end. Please do not judge my opinion, if it isnt clear yet, even though ive said thus a thousand times over, i am just a kid who likes two violin bois and classical music. I just vibe yo.

Inspiration by Vladimir Bodunov, 39 years old. Damn. The first part they played sounded to me like the desire and struggle to lift off the ground and fly. Like, the person wants to, the desire is there but its not enough. I feel like they stopped that part near the "climax" where the tension finally breaks and it takes off. The final part to me sounds like... (a dying seal) the person in focus of the piece or whatever finally reaching the sun. And having a phoenix-like rebirth. With just two chords too! The talent and skill. I kent.

Duet for two violins by Robyn, 13 years old. (Okay flex) Also pretty nice of her to leave dynamics up to interpretation. (Even though i have nO IDEA what that means) And i kNOW THAT ITS A DUET BUT- for some fUCKIN reason, its giving me quartet vibes. And i dONT. KNOW. WHY. IS THE PIECE JUST THAT GOOD. (Lol probabky just heard a quartet playing something like this and my memories were instantly. Unlocked.) I guess it gives me vague schubert or schumann vibes. I forgot which one had a lot of chamber music. BASICALLY WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY IS. It nice. Me like. (Tiny claps)

Flying Fledglings by Anastasia Loiko, 14 yrs old. (Please stop flexing. I already know im uSELESS) It sounded very smooth, in the way that the first few bars personally sounded like a strange... denial despair troubked feeling feeling, ykno? That typa tension, when youre still riled with emotion. And it transitioned over to a more uplifting feeling like yeah, it might not be with us anymore but its probably gone to a better place. It sounds like a person slowly letting go of their saddness, and even though there was some rocky parts (not just from the bois playing OOP-) they still accepted that its not there anymore and learned to live wih that saddness. Ykno? (Or I'm overthinking this too much because of too much angst fics and depression things. Personal life bABEY. IT COMPLI.)

Undicht by Jiro Yoshioka, 20 yrs old. Omg, i LOVE this. The first violin part on its own sounds like some kinda James Bond spy theme. BUT THEN THE PIZZ- OMG its sounds like sUCH a whimsical spy theme oH MY GOD AHAHAHA (i mean it kinda morphs into a more chill and serious part after that but like cMON. THE WHIMSY. I KENT-) And aCHK Eddy's lil hip shake i cANNOT. THIS IS JUST SUCH A FUN PIECE TO LISTEN TO AHAH

#lesson time with dani #the tags are actually the fidst thing i wrote in this post. after the first paragraph of course #im not sure if yall noticed in my tags but my mental state is not in a good position right now #i still love and care for the boys yes but like quarantine is really draining me man #add that to the fact that my mother is currently lowkey panicking because my sister has a runny nose #which makes just a wonderful cocktail of delicious vibes that i cant escape from everyday #only peace i have in this house is literally just lurking in the fandom and the internet #school is also starting in a few days so #great emotional and mental variables all around #i guess what im trying to say is that ill only post the lessons on the days twoset posts so i can have a brain break #like jesus christ i need it. first thing i did when i woke up was cry because of a really good breddy angst fic call pax de deux or somthin #hope yall are okay with that. also lol only posting this now because i was about to stress fic write and decided to do this #because that stress writing thing was originally for a friend #...should probably check out my drafts again #wait did i just unknowingly take a twoset sabbatical?????#AHAHAHAHAH WHAT THE FUUUUCK #Youtube #twosetviolin #twoset violin #twoset #not a quote #not incorrect twoset #not incorrect twoset quotes #not incorrect quote #not incorrect quotes #original #original composition #original compositions

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bucketotrolls-moblie-profiles · 4 years

Text

Mobile Profiles

Name: Amitsu Katoru

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: Male

Age:10.15(21)

Blood: Gold

Height: 6'6

Sign: Gemries sign of the Savy

Wrigglering day: May 25

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: Alligator Crossed with a Bear.

Typing quirk: Replaces As with @s

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

The owner of a cafe called HoneyBees.

2. Could whip up a custom tea that fits the troll’s personality.

3. Eastern Alterian with a bit of Southern.

4. Amitsu loves large women.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Taluco Lalens @ask-swagger-dagger-trolls shipname: Strawberry Tea

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Calice Wahron

Type of Troll: Mutant River

Gender:She/Her

Age: 12.92 (28)

Blood: Olive

Height: 5'11

Sign: LESCES sign of the instructor

Wrigglering day: April 1

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: large Mexican Burrowing Toad named Baba Granham

Typing quirk: replaces K with 8, and E is 3

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

A Mud color artist who makes her own paint.

Fresh water dweller who can not go into the sea.

Tends to nap on the river letting it take her anywhere in her boat.

Has a small collection of books.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: crushing

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Epoina Hompis

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age:10.15 (22)

Blood: Indigo

Height: 6'0

Sign: Sagillo sign of the Lofty

Wrigglering Day: November 21st

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A horse size Valais Blacknose sheep known as Rosie Mcflufbottom or Baa Mama

Typing quirk:Replacing a with ą Ą,o with ø Ø and u with ű Ű.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

“ Høly Eąrth Crąwlers! Løøk ąt this plące”

Much prefers to live off the land than living in luxury.

Has a massive collection of gems and artifacts.

Tends to travel far from home for days at a time.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Vohert Bogart @princeofdoomrps -Blueberry Strudels

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Ginlee Meggle

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:8.77(19)

Blood: Purple

Height: 7'4

Sign: CAPRIST SIGN OF THE AUDACIOUS

Wrigglering Day: November 2

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: medium size chinchilla with goat hooves named Atari Dustybottom

Typing quirk: start ～♪ and ～♬

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Not used to new things, Ginlee tends to become overly nervous about it.

Secretly writes slam poetry which she thinks as bad.

Has a knowledge of different hues of paint and what would look good.

Its best not to touch Kotton, unless you wish to become paint.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Kotton Poplus- candy pop

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Kimaoi Midria

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age: 11.55(25)

Blood: Bronze

Height: 5'4

Sign: TAURPIA SIGN OF THE AESTHETE

Wrigglering Day: October 13th

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: Six legged Peruvian guinea pig named Cornwall Barnesly or guinny dad

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Typing quirk: Puts ‘¥’ in front of a sentence

Has her own small home business.

Cute and shy on the outside, horror movie junkie on the inside.

Trying to be comfortable in her own skin again.

Pop Karaoke queen.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Luxura Welran @mortuo-trolls

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Kotton Poplus

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:8.77 (19)

Blood: Lime

Height: 5'3

Sign: CANNIUS SIGN OF THE THEATRICAL

Wrigglering day: August 17

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A large maincoon\ persian purrbeast named Bobbinsnot

Typing quirk: Doubles her os

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

A bottle of extreme ball lightening.

Can bend her arm backwards along with several other parts of her body.

Probably the biggest fan of clowns.

Absolutely a wild party girl.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Ginlee Meggles- CandyPop

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Luenna Coutls

Type of Troll: Mutant land dweller

Gender: She/her

Age: 12.92 (28)

Blood: Indigo

Height: 7'7 tail 6ft

Sign: Doesn’t have a sign

Wrigglering Day: July 16

Lusus: A scale jaguar dragon mix

Voice Claim: Here

Typing quirk: ༄ at beginning and ending of each sentences.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Will run away from any loud noises or strangers. Or the combination of the two.

Carries around a snuggle pelt for comfort.

Doesn’t get outside that much, so we’ll add anything new may scare her to the list.

Has a weakness to hot rocks.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Sprites and character design are done by :

@you-cansci-me

Name: Mariuz Panais

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:He /Him

Age: 9.69(21)

Blood: Lime

Height: 5'6

Sign: CANRIUS SIGN OF THE HELPER

Wrigglering day: December 21

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A pig and elephant hybrid named Percilla

Typing quirk: Having put double letters on some words like ‘ms’,’is’ as well four letter words with ‘as’

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Third fastest delivery troll by bike.

Tends to be overly nervous whenever teased,scared or if he is near someone he likes.

Is known to dance to pop music while at home.

Whenever he is nervous, Mairzu will smell of candy.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: crushing

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Mariot Lotora

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:11.55(25)

Blood: Jade

Height: 6’7

Sign: Virus SIGN OF THE ADAPTABLE

Wrigglering day: January 1

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A six arm kangaroo

Typing quirk: Doubles her Xs,Ws, and Us

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Always making sure everyone in the caverns has something to eat before studying.

Manages the largest recording of troll ancestorsty .

First time being a mother to her own wriggler.

Often panics whenever something goes wrong making it appear worse than it actually is.

Quardrants:

Matespritship:Aidore Mikriu

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Nefiri Bastia

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:10.15(22)

Blood: Olive

Height: 6'10

Sign: LENIUS SIGN OF THE RESTLESS

Wrigglering day: April 13

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A giant size sabertooth Wombat named Bruce Mamaro

Typing quirk: uses capitalize on all her Ss, Cs and Vs

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Was formerly the top huntress of her tribe.

Takes play fighting a bit too far at times.

Very competitive.

Hates Cucumbers with a passion.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Matespritship: Mekale - @ask-swagger-dagger-trolls - Flying Sqitties

Moirail: open

Kismesis: Irados Blitza - @ask-a-few-trolls

Auspistice: open

Name: Nixiie Apilon

Type of Troll: Land?

Gender: She/Her

Age: 11.08(24)

Blood: Jade

Height: 5’3

Sign: Virga sign of the pure

Wrigglering day: March 20th

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A fluffy luna moth caterpillar with cat face and long tail (currently in a cacoon)

Typing quirk: uses a ❀ when talking

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

She will proceed to go after the shiny thing until she catches it.

Nixiie and technology do not mix.

❀ But why can’t I jump out the window! Its fun!❀

Natural flower child.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Rafina Uymumi

Type of Troll: Sea Dweller

Gender:She /Her

Age:12 (26)

Blood: Violet

Height: 6'10

Sign: Aquius SIGN OF THE WHIMSICAL

Wrigglering day: September 22

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: large four eye plesioaur named Morgana

Typing quirk: ♯ and a few fish puns

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Known for her high ring acrobatic dance.

Tends to bing watch fantasy movies and shows.

Had done private shows, if the patron is willing to pay for it.

Has a secret journal half filled with stories about fantasies.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Orchid Roeana

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:He/Him

Age:13.38(29)

Blood: Jade

Height: 6'6

Sign: Viries sign of the mother

Wrigglering Day: August 23

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: large stork and swan hybrid known as Ms Paradox Space Stork

Typing quirk: Start and end with ❦

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Never stay in one spot for long.

Has a bottomless bag.

Tends to sneak mutated grubs to grubless lusus.

Tries his best to save everyone even if they appear to be a lost cause.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Uniico Katiwa

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age:10.15 (21)

Blood: Bronze

Height: 5'5

Sign: TAURMINO Sign of the lonely

Wrigglering Day: July 23

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A large sheep dog?

Typing quirk:⊱:3 at the start and end of every sentence.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Is a proud descent of a woolbeast herder.

He thinks all sea dwellers are just mutated purples.

Knows his ways around fabric.

Uniico knows the mountains the back of his hand.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Lavase Copory belongs to @leethetrashpage - SilkPom

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

character design are done by : @ask-these-fantrolls

Name: Pohkin Boines

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:9.69(21)

Blood: Rust

Height: 6'5

Sign: Arsci SIGN OF THE MEDIC

Wrigglering day:June 20

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A long horned saola

Typing quirk:replaces I with î Î and t with ť Ť

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

High maintenance should be her middle name.

A lady of high society living fantasy.

Takes pride in both her garden and weave care.

God forbid if you enter her hive with dirty shoes.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Wilton Maytio

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age:9.23(20)

Blood: Teal

Height: 6’4

Sign: Libiborn Sign of the Finale

Wrigglering day: October 4

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A panther size Siamese cat

Typing quirk: ♘ has a knight at the beginning and end of his sentences.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Is the pain of the ass of the office.

Has a large collection of wind up toys.

Willing to take on a case if you are able to help him out with a prank.

A regular charming tomcat.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: crushing

Moirail: open

Kismesis: Eyries Stigot- @abysmaltourmaline

Auspistice: open

Name: Belity Talkar

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 11.08(24)

Blood: Teal

Height: 5’3

Sign: LIBUS SIGN OF THE VIBRANT

Wrigglering Day: August 4

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: One arm silverback Gorilla.

Typing quirk: replaces Cs and Ds with Çč and Ðð

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Has proven she is a lethal little thing.

A siren in lounge singer clothing.

Takes great care with her nails.

A devil in disguise.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: Xariie Yrictt belongs to @leethetrashpage ship name: Retro Playlist.

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Guroka Azothi

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age:8.31(18)

Blood: Lilac

Height: 7’7

Voice Claim: Here

Sign: CAPRINIUS SIGN OF THE CREDULOUS

Wrigglering Day: September 6, 2019

Lusus: Twin tailed Spider Monkey

Typing quirk: uses Replaces H with 🍬.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Wants to be part of a eastern alterinan idol group.

Can’t tell the difference what’s real and not real.

Has a fantastic smile.

A big fan of eastern alterian sweet fashion.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Sprites are done by : @ask-these-fantrolls

Name: Himwai Mippei

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age:17.54(38)

Blood: powder blue

Height: 6'3

Sign: SCORCEN SIGN OF THE UNITER

Wrigglering Day: February 18,

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: Giant Sugar Glider

Typing quirk: starts sentences with expression emojis (≧◡≦)

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Will mispronounce names.

Study to become a lab technion.

Known to crochet small stuffed animals and other items.

Has an addiction to a drug known as ‘Delightful drops’.

Quardrants:

Matespritship:

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Caesar Pizpea

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age: 11.54(25)

Blood: Indigo

Height: 11’11

Sign: SAGIGA SIGN OF THE BUILDER

Wrigglering Day: May 8

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A small Belted Galloway cow named Bluebabe

Typing quirk: Replaces Oos with Öö and Ee with Éé

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Large body but a rather tiny brain

Overly friendly to small creatures, tends to hug them a bit too tight.

Able to lift a 20 ft tree out roots and all.

Has gotten his head stuck in a paper bag, and mistook it as a cave.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Mascar Oachri

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age: 23.08(50)

Blood: Lime(#7fc924)

Height: 8’5

Sign: [recated]

Wrigglering Day: unknown

Voice Claim: wip

Lusus: Red panda

Typing quirk: ♕ ♛

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Drinks a strange combination of brandy and whisky on the rocks.

Has a strong distaste of high pitch singing and anything pop related.

Once a mafia hitman.

He is mister gives no fucks.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Byuria Matlip

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 8.31 (18)

Blood: Teal(#33a1a1)

Height: 5’9

Sign: Limino Sign of the Endurer

Wrigglering Day: August 12

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A Bat Ear Fox Papillon mix.(descese )

Typing quirk: ꧁ ꧂At the begining and end of each sentence.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Can easily walk on her hands.

Byuria use to be a graceful dancer.

Mosty mute but, tends to speak whenever she feels comfortable or needed to.

Had made her own patchwork dolls for comfort.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Anthus Carphi

Type of Troll:

Gender: They/Them

Age:15.69(34)

Blood: Purple

Height: 7’7

Sign: [recatcted]

Wrigglering Day: May 14

Lusus: wip

Voice Claim: here

Typing quirk:✧

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Will end a career in seconds if they doesn’t like you.

Devil in spike heel boots.

Has been the top model for fashion week.

Takes the art of the theater very seriously.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: Joviia Gorgol belongs to @leethetrashpage Spotlight-Thieves

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Ostara Purima

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 11.08(24)

Blood: Jade

Height: 6’0

Sign: wip

Wrigglering Day: March 19

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A large sea otter

Typing quirk: Replaces E with ☘️

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Is the top of her class in the medical healing training and top of her class.

Is an overachiever and a grub hatched bookworm.

A coffee addict whenever she needs something done ahead of a deadline.

Nixiie is her partner whenever group projects come, as well tutoring her on the side.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

character design are done by : @mycrappyrpsideblog

Name: Odoria Eander

Type of Troll: land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 18.46(40)

Blood: Purple

Height: 7’6

Sign: wip

Wrigglering Day: September 30

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: wip

Typing quirk:♗ beginning of every sentence and capitalizing M and W.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

A devoted follower and second preacher of her church.

Has the most sales in the bake sales.

Appears ditzy and sweet but has a bit of a bitter dark chocolate side.

Odoria host the best movie night.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

Name: Ambean Saraza

Type of Troll: Sea Dweller

Gender: She/her

Age: (21)

Blood: pastel indigo

Height: 7’9

Sign: wip

Wrigglering Day: January 12

Voice Claim:

Lusus: her mama Perlas and her lusus a 12 foot long Oarfish.

Typing quirk: replaces B with 🍑

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Ambean is very playful though she doesn’t realize the other party is playing or not.

Her tribe is under a coral reef with a maze of tunnels for above and under the water.

A chalk artist, though it’s hard to find white chalk.

Ambean is the cause of a lot of capsizing for a lot of tribes who might be out on the water.

Quardrants:

Matespritship: open

Moirail: open

Kismesis: open

Auspistice: open

#work in progress #moblie profiles

22 notes · View notes

sunflowergrenades · 3 years

Text

A Mile in My Shoes: Chapter One

Tears gathered in the wide eyes of the little green skinned girl as her bottom lip quivered violently. She searched her friends' faces for a hint that they were joking but she was coming up blank.

"Why can't I come with you, Yuki? I'm your friend too, right?"

"We're gonna be inside today. You're too loud and wild. My mom gets mad at me every time you come over." the blue haired girl replied, rolling her eyes.

Hana took a step forward, clenching the stuffed orca in her arms tightly "I'll do better this time! I'll -."

"You always say that! Just go home, Hana. You'll just get in the way."

The other two girls began laughing as Hana's tears poured down faster and she ran off in shame. Her scrawny legs carried her as far as they could to her apartment. As the door swung open, it collided with the wall heatedly which drew her mother’s attention from the kitchen. Hina sighed deeply as her oldest child looked up from his phone with a biting glare.

“If that little shit doesn’t quit making my baby sis cry, I’m gonna -!”

“Stand down. I got this. You just keep my soup from burning.” his mother instructed before going into the living room to find her only daughter curled up on the couch.

“Why am I so annoying?” Hana whimpered into her knee as she trembled under Hina’s loving touch.

“Says who? Yuki Watanabe? That kid is a spoiled brat. Her mommy and daddy can buy her anything but some damn manners.”

“No one at school likes me because I’m so hyper. I try to keep in it but I can’t.”

“And you shouldn’t have to! You’re hilarious, Jellybean! You’re so much fun. You keep me and your brother rolling with laughter. We won’t change anything.”

Hana stayed curled up in her dejected ball until Hina laughed softly. She looked up a little at her mother to see that she was looking at the television. They rarely watched the news but it must have come on while they were cooking. A rescue was going on the screen with a hero she’d never seen before. With his orca features and large frame, he quickly got the attention of little Hana who was wiping the last few tears from her eyes.

“Who’s that hero, Mama?”

“His name’s Gang Orca. I figured you’d like him because you’ve always been into weird stuff.” Yosuke replied from behind the couch.

Hina scoffed as she looked back, “You let my soup burn and I’m tossing you into it, little troll.”

“Cool your jets. I turned it down.”

“That’s what I want to do when I grow up!” Hana exclaimed unexpectedly as she got to her feet.

“What, burn soup? You’re already good at that, JB.” Yosuke teased.

“Huh? No! I meant what he’s doing on T.V! I wanna do that!”

“You want to be a pro hero?” Hina asked, sitting forward with her hands on her cheeks. “Well, you'd be super interesting to watch, that’s for sure.”

“Seriously? Hana, a hero? She’s too goofy. She’s not cut out for -. What am I worrying for? You change your mind every five minutes. You wanted to be an astronaut two days ago.” Yosuke grumbled as he returned to the kitchen.

“Don’t listen to your brother, Sunlight. He’s just mad that his grades aren’t good enough to get into U.A’s support class program.”

“Can’t hear you over the sound of me throwing this soup into the yard!”

“You brat, your laptop’ll follow it out there!” she screamed as she jumped over the back of the sofa to go save her food from her son’s bitterness.

Hana giggled softly as she turned her attention back to the news broadcast. Yeah, being a hero would be awesome. But heroes always had costumes and stuff, right? She pursed her lips for a second in thought before running down the hallway and getting her crayons. Who better than to design an outfit for her Quirk than her.

Time flies when you’re having fun and the hyper seven year old soon turned into a bouncy fifteen year old. To her brother’s astonishment, Hana’s hero dream never burned out like the others. Planning her campaign for president only lasted a week and it was one of the longest run schemes that she had. Despite thinking this was a dim-witted plan, he still determined to make sure that his rambunctious sibling didn’t repeat her bad habit of sleeping through her alarms.

“Hey, are you up yet?”

Hana, who was currently wrapped up in her fuzzy pink blanket, groaned loudly without making any movement. She was absolutely not planning on getting out of this criminally comfortable bed. The deep-toned but noticeably annoyed voice from the bottom of the stairs clearly disagreed with that plan.

"Some hero you are! You can’t even make it to school on time!"

That got a quick reaction as Hana popped up and promptly fell out of her bed with an undignified squawk. Once finally unraveling from her warm cocoon, she darted to the closet to get her clothes and found that her uniform had rudely fallen to the floor. As she dusted it off, she ran to the bathroom and hung it on the back of the door. She quickly brushed her teeth, ruffled her onyx pixie cut with her fingers for some texture, and put in her silver star earrings. She raked her long bang out of her face as she inspected her face for imperfections.

As she got herself presentable, the oldest Ishikawa child stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster before fastening up the Gang Orca lunch on the counter and putting in that ragged, ugly pink backpack with unicorns all over that his sister refused to replace for some reason. Surely, it should be qualified for retirement after all these years, right?

But Hana wasn't one to throw out much of anything. She was the textbook definition of a sentimental fool. Yosuke wasn't exactly sure where she had even picked up that habit but she was almost religious about keeping anything close to 'important'.

“Hana! Move it or lose it, runt!" he yelled again as he put some strawberry jam on the nearly burnt toast.

"Don't call me a runt, jerk face. I already told you that everyone else is just too tall!" she shouted from upstairs.

He heard something crash its way down the stairs with a loud bang and sighed deeply. "What was that?"

"My shirt!"

"That was way too damn heavy to be a damn shirt." he huffed back, looking at his phone.

As she came around the corner, she was hopping on one foot attempting to tie a glittery silver tennis shoe while standing. "Well, I was still wearing it."

He rolled his eyes before grabbing her leg mid-hop which nearly sent her to the floor. He put the sole of her shoe on his leg and started tying it for her. She wrinkled her nose in frustration, to which he replied with a thump to the forehead.

"You're gonna break your damn neck." he scolded.

"You worry too much. I'm tough enough to handle whatever life throws at me." she scoffed back proudly.

Yosuke looked at his younger sibling with overwhelming skepticism. At an unimpressive five feet tall, puberty had seemingly forgotten to visit the poor girl. She was thin as a rail and still had a baby face with a button nose and big sapphire eyes. All that paired with her narrow frame, small breasts, and a high pitched voice, no one ever believed she was actually her age.

"Whatever you say, kid." He sighed as he gave her the toast and held out her backpack.

She shoved a piece of her breakfast halfway into her mouth, slung her bag onto her shoulder, and headed to the door.

"What? No 'thank you'?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Toast could have been darker honestly." she said, shrugging lightly.

"You can't just eat charcoal, Jellybean."

She blushed slightly, pink lighting up her mint green skin. "I told you to quit calling me that!"

"But you're small, cute, and eat nothing but candy. You're our little jellybean and always will be. It's better than that shit you used to call me."

"And that's my cue to leave." She scoffed as she opened the door.

"Have fun today, JB. I gotta work late tonight so you'll be having way more fun than me." he called out as he waved to her.

"Yikes. Better you than me. Don't forget your wallet this time." she said, exiting the apartment.

"Got it. Love you, brat."

The door clicked but immediately swung back open so she could yell back "Love you too." before finally leaving.

She wasn't sure what she did to get such bad karma but she deeply regretted whatever it was because now she was sprinting to class as fast as she could. She had missed the first bus and had to wait for the second one, so she was even more late now. As she ran, she tried to finish putting the shoe that had fallen off when she tripped down the stairs a moment ago. Seriously, what was gravity's problem today?

She finally reached the door and straightened herself up before grabbing the knob. Opening the door to the classroom, she was greeted by the very unhappy face of her home room teacher.

“Morning, Mr. Aizawa.” she mumbled, ducking her head like an anxious pup.

“Nice of you to join us, Ishikawa.” he sighed deeply. "Now as I was saying, you'll be wearing the hero outfits based on the designs you submitted."

Hana immediately lit up and the second they could get their outfits, she pushed her way to the first and snatched the case with her seat number on it. As she ran off excitedly, Ashido looked at Tokoyami who was shaking his head slightly. He was her designated best friend since the first day of school so he usually ended up playing translator for the jittery girl.

"You'll have to forgive Ishikawa's impatience." He lamented. "From my understanding, she designed that outfit when she was a little girl and she's been talking about it all week."

"That's actually sort of adorable." Ashido tittered.

"I'm honestly curious to see what she’s created." Tokoyami replied, grabbing his own case and leaving the room.

As the upcoming heroes stepped out in their new costumes, Hana couldn't stop smiling and looking down. It was perfectly in line with her drawing.

The black one piece had a turtleneck and featured a cutout of a sun around her belly button. Squiggly cuts around it made the rays. The holes for her legs were cut high and displayed part of her hips. It laid her skinny shoulders bare and was visibly backless with only her backside covered. Her shoes were simple black ballet flats with a thick ribbon around either ankle. Her hands were covered up by a pair of yellow finger-less gloves. Finally, her eyes were protected by a square, yellow visor that faintly resembled work safety glasses. For added flair, she'd topped the outfit with a headband with a yellow over-sized bow that poked up like bunny ears.

She glanced over at Midoriya and giggled as she waved her hand at him eagerly. "Hey, Deku! Look! We match!" She said, pointing from her bow to his suits 'ears'.

He blushed slightly and nodded. "Y-yeah, I guess we do, huh?"

If Bakugou’s crimson eyes could use his quirk, Ishikawa would have exploded three times by now. They were digging into the back of her head. Hana seemed to feel his eyes on her and looked over her shoulder to see him glaring at her unapologetically.

Ah, yes. Bakugou and his famous attitude. She'd managed to be at least on speaking terms with all her classmates. The exceptions were Todoroki who gave her the cold shoulder (pun absolutely intended) and the furious blonde. Every single time she got the least bit friendly with Bakugou, he’d buck like a wild stallion. What he didn't realize was that his bitterness only made it more fun for his ridiculously headstrong classmate. He'd made the mistake of making it a game and she wasn't about to lose.

"Like my outfit?” she asked, twirling around jubilantly.

He scoffed and looked away from her. The answer was… maybe? It was admittedly a cool design. She needed a lot of skin showing to make her Quirk work its best but something extremely revealing would have been out of character for her. She had figured out how to balance the modesty she needed with the design her power required on his own? That was kind of cool. She still looked like a little brat though. That was probably less about the outfit and more about that silly grin plastered on her face.

"Well, I love yours!" She said. "The grenades are super badass."

His eyes widened slightly as he looked back at her slightly. Why was she suddenly complimenting him? She usually spent the majority of her time teasing and provoking him. Their bickering sessions started from the first day at U.A. Bakugou was at his desk with his feet propped up as he insulted pretty much anything that moved when petite little Hana walked by.

As soon as she walked by, he noticed her stockings had cat faces on them. Naturally, he scoffed loudly. "When did they start letting little kids take classes here?"

She stopped mid-step and looked over her shoulder. "About the same time they started letting in annoying jackasses."

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU SHRIMP?"

She spun around and slammed her hands on his desk as she tilted her head to the side. He raised an eyebrow at her. Was this girl actually going to try and pick a fight?

Never breaking eye contact, she smiled jeeringly as she replied, "Oh, I'm sorry. Let me say it a little louder for you. You're acting like a jackass."

"Keep running that mouth and I'll hang our tiny ass from the ceiling!"

"Sweetie, you'd have to catch me first." she scoffed, poking his nose playfully.

Midoriya, who was watching this train wreck from behind the wall, exhaled deeply. It was their first day and Kacchan was about to commit a felony. Sure enough, the blonde went off and threw around some interestingly detailed threats.

She stood there taking his insults with a genuinely amused look on her face until he took a step toward her. She closed her eyes as her body emitted a blinding yellowish white light. Bakugou covered his eyes and stumbled back a little.

"SHIT, WHAT THE HELL, YOU LITTLE -!"

"My name is Hana Ishikawa." she replied, calmly as if she didn't just flash-bang the entire class. "Nice to meet you. Don't worry, the burning stops after 30 seconds."

With that, she skipped to her seat and sat down. Midoriya watched cautiously as Bakugou rubbed his stringing eyes and growled loudly. From that moment forward, every time they made eye contact, someone usually got detention.

All Might was the teacher today and Hana couldn't stop laughing at just how electrified Midoriya was. She was pretty excited too, but she was always that way about something. She was the kind of person who sat by the mailbox when her package was out for delivery and cheered for the mailman when he showed up.

What really tickled her was how pumped up Bakugou got when the words 'combat training' came out of All Might's mouth. It got an actual giggle out of her.

"Ishikawa will be with Todoroki on team B."

"Yay! Dude, I'm so excited. I love your dad. He's my second favorite pro!" Hana shouted out loudly as she bounced up and down.

Todoroki immediately rolled his eyes at her joyful reaction. Why did he have to get stuck with the class crazy lady? It was going to be a long day.

The first teams up were "villains" Bakugou and Iida vs Midoriya and Uraraka. The other other students were watching from a secondary location on a big screen. Things were already off to a bad start because Bakugou clearly had no intention of listening or cooperating. Like now, for example, he'd run off to find Midoriya and 'deal' with him, despite Iida's blatant disapproval.

"Well, I see Baku is doing whatever Baku wants and I'm sure you're all as shocked as I am." Hana said with a sarcastic tone as she put another strawberry pocky stick in her mouth.

"What is he thinking?" Tokoyami asked, shaking his head. "He's being completely irrational."

"Honestly, Yami, I'm guessing there's not much really going on in that head of his." Hana replied.

On the screen, Bakugou found his prey and was currently doing everything in his power to stomp him into the dirt. Asui made a comment about him being a good villain which unexpectedly grabbed Hana's attention.

"Whoa, that's a little harsh, Froggy."

Bakugou had lost track of Midoriya who had run away for his safety. Even through a screen, his hatred was almost visible in the air.

"That doesn't seem villainous to you?" Todoroki asked, pointing at the screen where Bakugou was apparently screaming some heavy threats at Deku as he searched for him.

"Look, I'm not justifying it but there's clearly something going on there that we don't know."

"Like what?" he asked flatly.

"Heck, I don't know! I'm not a therapist. Everyone's got a demon or two in them though, right?" She replied quickly.

Tokoyami looked over at her slightly and noticed that her eyes were locked on the blonde with a look of what seemed to be growing curiosity.

"Gotta admire his determination though. Even if his cheese has completely slid off his cracker."

"I think you're being naïve." Todoroki said under his breath.

Her eyes suddenly widened as she looked over at him slightly. Her hands balled into fists slowly by her sides.

"I'm sorry? Did I ask for your opinion on my personality?"

"With one as spastic as yours, you should be used to it."

"Spastic?! Listen, I don't -!"

"You'll kill him!"

All Might's thunderous voice made her jump as her eyes shot back to the screen. They quickly widened as Bakugou's hand ripped the pin from his grenade gauntlet with wild abandon.

"Dude, what are you doing?" She asked under her breath.

"How about now, Ishikawa? Does murder count as 'villainous'?" Todoroki scoffed.

"Seriously, Baku? Pull yourself together." She whispered, mostly to herself.

Midoriya used his Quirk to destroy several floors at once and Bakugou looked as if he'd seen a ghost. No, that wasn't enough to describe the level of horror in those wide ruby eyes.

Hana didn't see that uncommon expression as she walked to the back of the room and pulled out another pocky stick. She munched on it as she let her forehead rest on the cold metal wall. The thought of everyone watching her mess up was making her stomach queasy.

"Is everything alright? You seem a bit bothered by what just happened." Tokoyami asked from behind him.

She sighed deeply and painted her smile on her face, but it didn't hold anything close to genuinely positive. "Nah, I'm okay. Just a little performance anxiety. That's all."

"Well, it's our turn so I would try to shake those nerves if I were you." Todoroki stated while walking by.

"Sure thing, Ace." She mumbled as she followed.

She wasn't entirely sure she could handle much more of Todoroki's bitterness today but for the sake of the assignment, she was willing to try. At least, she was before they actually got to the building.

"You stay here. You'll only get in the way."

Her heart started banging on her rib cage angrily as his words unlocked a door in the back of her mind. Once again, she was just a little eight year old on the playground with her feelings on her sleeve. No, no more. Never again. Her teeth grit painfully as she ran to catch up with Todoroki. She grabbed his arm but he quickly shrugged her off.

"What are you doing?" He asked as he looked back at her.

"Just because your dad is a pro doesn't mean that you get to talk down to me like that! I'm a big fan of your dad's but I'm not just going to let you -."

"Let's just focus on the assignment, alright?" He interrupted before continuing toward the building. "You and I aren't on the same level. It's for your benefit that you stay down here."

As he disappeared into the entrance, she growled under her breath. Get in the way? No, she worked like crazy to get here! Some little rich kid wasn't gonna tell her what to do. It was sunny today so her Quirk was working wonderfully. The more sunlight, the more useful she was.The others watched as she created a yoga ball sized orb in between her hands. She processed to climb on top of it as it floated up to the window. Hana had a tendency to whatever she wanted, especially when told not to do something. While that attitude could bring interesting results at times, it also meant that despite her friendly attitude, Hana's teamwork skills were completely terrible.

She attempted to jump to her target window but the ball slipped out from under her. She gasped loudly as she clung to the ledge forcefully.

"I swear if I fall, my ghost is gonna haunt you, Ace!"

"I can't watch! Tell me when she's made it." Uraraka said, covering her eyes with worry.

"I like her fearlessness but that cooperation could use some serious improvement." All Might mumbled as he watched her finally climb through the window.

Her target barely even had time to notice her before the floor froze solid. Ice raced up her legs only to stop mid calf. She stared at it for a moment with rage boiling ever faster in her veins.

"I told you to stay outside for a reason."

She was visibly shaking with anger but was breathing in deeply. Tears stung her eyes as she bent down to melt the ice from her legs

"Man, I won't ever want Ishikawa to look at me the way she's looking at Todoroki right now." Kaminari laughed under his breath.

"She's normally so laid back." Asui noted.

"She's probably feeling a little embarrassed. She went through all of that effort for nothing. That's a bit of an ego bruiser, don't you think?" Tokoyami said, looking at the currently fuming Hana.

Bakugou rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. His eyes wandered up to the screen and he noticed that as the ice melted off her legs, she crossed her arms and stormed out of the room. He was having a shitty day to say the least but for some reason, that little pouty march of shame of hers made him laugh.

Okay, maybe not laugh laugh. Just that thing where you blow air out of your nose kinda hard in amusement? She came back into the room and noticed him staring a little. Her left hand came to rest on her hip as she tilted her head to the side.

"Hey there, Baku. You feeling better after all that? I know I always feel bushy-tailed after a homicidal rampage." She said, playfully.

"You expect me to believe a little runt like you can go on a rampage?" He huffed, looking away. "What do you do? Throw your toys?"

"Oh, my wittle heart!" She laughed as she threw her arm over her face dramatically. "You're so cruel to me, dude."

"You're just a pansy, Sunspot." He huffed.

He noticed that lazy, amused grin slowly spread back over her pastel face like butter on warm toast. The second he took a breath to ask what that stupid look was about, she cut him off.

"Sunspot? Seriously?" She snorted playfully. "Oh, I get it! Because of my yellow freckles across my face, right? Dude, that's actually kinda cute."

"Whatever, loser." He growled back at her, sulking over the fact that she made an intended insult into a damn pet name.

She bounced away to go talk to Uraraka. Now that she thought about it, maybe today wasn't all bad.

#bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki x oc #bnha original character #my works

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rmg91 · 4 years

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Meant To Be (In Any Form)-2

So, this isn't really holiday fic (I was going to but muses are fickle things) but I've been working on this all month (in reality it's probably only taken me a few days but yay for procrastinating!) Anyway! This particular AU's background in vague and foggy because I really just wanted to write fluff, but I've put in hints of what I have thoughts of. If you have questions, feel free to ask but I do plan to eventually do a sort of 'How it all started' oneshot at some point but for now, please enjoy the fluff.

AU: How To Train Your Dragon

Chapter Summary: It's Poppy's first hatch day on the island and she spends it with Branch showing her all the adorable baby dragons.

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3/FF.net

@writerofberk-HTTYD AU no one asked for but I did anyway??? I thought of you when this AU came to mind XD

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Whoa there!”

Poppy gasped as she was suddenly pulled backwards and the angular head of an angry dragon appeared out of nowhere in front of her. She gaped at the red dragon, with it's long, wide horns and draping, leafy appendages as it narrowed large yellow eyes at her, a low growl emitting from it's throat as it bared it's fangs. Branch kept one arm wound tightly around her waist as he angled her away from the dragon and carefully held out his own hand. It still amazed her how he could be so fearless when faced with one of these dangerous reptiles, having been such a cautious viking, never mind the fact that he was alive after missing for five years. Everyone had thought the worst when that flaming hut had collapsed and his body hadn't been found.

Shaking her head away from those terrible thoughts, it didn't matter anymore, he was alive and well now, the young woman focused on the dragon tamer as he softly spoke to the dragon in front of them.

“Hey...It's okay. We're not gonna harm your hatchlings...” Branch slowly reached out toward the Changewing, praying to the gods that it listened to him. He tipped his head back toward Poppy as he spoke, “She didn't know any better, your babies are safe, you can relax...”

The Changewing growled, preventing his hand from coming any closer before hissing and curling around the tree where its nest sat, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. Branch breathed a sigh of relief before he quickly tugged Poppy away, hoping the dragon wouldn't change its mind and decide they needed to have an acid bath. He continued to pull her away, trying to put as much distance between them and the mother dragon as possible, even as Poppy tugged at his hand to stop.

“Branch! Branch, come on, stop!” She panted as she was dragged along, “What kind of dragon was that?” She hadn't seen anything like it yet! “Are there anymore of them?!”

Branch suddenly stopped and whirled around, hands clutching her shoulders as his eyes roamed her for any injuries. Finding none, and he knew that deep down there wouldn't be any, he sighed, shoulders dropping, “That was a Changewing... And are you insane?!” He shook her slightly, “You don't just go up to a dragon's nest like that!!” And he hoped to Thor there weren't anymore on the island.

“Hey!” Poppy cried, pushing him away and placing her hands on her hips, “I didn't know that dragon was there! I thought those babies were abandoned or something! I just wanted to check on them!”

Branch opened his mouth to retort before pausing and sighing roughly, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course Poppy would want to do something like that, she was far too kind to leave a clutch of hatchlings alone if their parent was no longer around. Never mind she was still learning the basics of interacting with dragons. Running a hand over his face, Branch looked at her with icy blue eyes, “Look, you can't just go up to a nest without first determining if the parents really are gone and not coming back. I know dragons can seem docile but they're still dangerous creatures with fangs, claws and breath weapons that can kill you if you're not careful!!” He held up a hand as she started to make a retort, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. Thor this woman had always known how to push his buttons without even realizing it, “However...I also know you are far too kind not to help something in need and are still learning things. So...if you promise to be more careful around them and their nests today, I'll try to actually teach you more quickly than I have been.”

Poppy blinked, surprised at not only how Branch had not really yelled at her like he used to but also his promise to teach her more. Especially after he had been so adamant about teaching her slowly, partly due to his own reluctance. And, she had to admit to herself, he was probably also just trying to protect her from doing something reckless like she was prone to do...again. Smiling softly, the young woman nodded, “Okay. You got yourself a deal.”

Shoulders dropping as he sighed in relief, Branch gently took her hand and began guiding her once again, “Thank you. Now the most important thing you can remember about Changewings, besides their ability to blend into their surroundings, is they're not like some of the other breeds. They're mean and we're extremely lucky that mother let us go. I know there can be exceptions to anything but I haven't met one yet.”

“Okay,” Poppy nodded, happily trotting beside him, “So if they can be one with the scenery, do you think there are more here? Also where are we going now?”

“Gods, I hope not. They really are some of the more unpleasant dragon species. Honestly, it's rare that they leave their island during mating and breeding season.” He then flashed her a smirk, “As for where we going, you'll see, but I have a feeling you'll like it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Poppy blinked as she looked around them, taking in the warm, rocky terrain with some sporadic pools of water. Branch had led her to the more warmer side of the island, a few miles away from the hot springs they had visited a few times but apart from a few Gronckles and Deadly Nadders, she couldn't see why. Glancing at Branch confusedly, she asked, “Why are we here?”

Chuckling, he pointed toward a green Gronckle, pushing what looked to be rocks into one of the pools of water, “Just watch.”

Blinking confusedly, Poppy turned back to watch the dragon finish pushing the rocks into the water. She still wasn't sure what was happening until a moment or two later when the water seemed to boil and out popped small Gronckles in varying shades of color. The strawberry-blonde gasped in delight as she watched the tiny reptiles crowd around their mother happily before turning back to Branch, who was watching her reaction. “Those were eggs!” She exclaimed in awed excitement, smile wide before pursing her lips, “But why'd she push them into the water?”

Chuckling, Branch grabbed her hand and started walking toward the new family of dragons, fetching a good sized rock along the way as he explained, “Gronckle eggs explode when they hatch.” At Poppy's gaping shocked expression he nodded, “I know. And don't ask how I found that out. Anyway, Gronckles will push their eggs into shallow water to hatch because of that.” They stopped a good ten feet away from the boulder class dragons and Branch gave her a little push forward, “Go on. I know you want to see them up close.”

Poppy looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow, popping a hip out to rest her hand, “Weren't you just making me promise to not go toward dragons and the nests?”

Branch rolled his eyes, “Okay, yes. But we both know Gronckles won't attack unless threatened and I can guarantee that one won't. I've ran into her a few times, she's a local.”

“Oooh...” Poppy exhaled, turning back to face the herd before biting her bottom lip. As excited as she was to learn she was right that dragons weren't just murderous creatures, it was still little nerve wracking to just go up to one, even though she trusted Branch. But as she was Poppy Meadows of the Savage Singing Troll tribe, she wasn't about to back down from a challenge. So taking a deep breath, she carefully approached.

“Greet the mother first,” Branch coached her softly from behind as she came closer to the happy, wiggling mass of baby dragons.

Breathing in, Poppy carefully reached out toward the mother, who had started watching her curiously before speaking softly, “Hey there, pretty mama.” The Gronckle's warm breath tickled Poppy's hand as she sniffed at it before laying her rough, warm nose against her palm. Poppy let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, still amazed whenever she made contact with these creatures before gently scratching at the dragon's scales. “Hi~” She cooed, “Do you mind if I take a look at your babies?”

The Gronckle purred lightly before rumbling at her hatchlings, which Poppy took for a 'yes' as the dozen small, round, multi-colored dragons suddenly rushed around her, happily sniffing at her. She dropped to her knees with a coo, reaching out to pet the closest ones, grinning and giggling as she was surrounded by them. They all crowed around, some bouncing and trying to crawl on her, others licking her with their warm, wet tongues and Poppy didn't care as she happily held as many in her lap, scratching them where ever she could reach. They were all so adorable, with their big, wide eyes and grinning maws, some trying to hover in the air in their excitement before dropping down and trying to get their own pets.

Branch chuckled as he watched her, smiling at how happy she looked surrounded by the tiny horde of small reptiles. Coming closer himself, he offered the rock to the mother dragon, who happily ate it before licking his palm and purring as he scratched her behind her head wings. Still petting the larger dragon, he looked over and watched Poppy get knocked onto her back by the hatchlings, laughter echoing around them as she was showered with affection. When she had disrupted his somewhat peaceful life six months ago, he hadn't been sure letting her stay and learn would be a good idea but she was adamant about showing their tribe dragons weren't as horrible as they believed. Not to mention his deep seated crush had reared it's head again with her reappearance. But now...now he wouldn't change her company for anything. He had to admit it was nice having another person around to talk to, rather than the draconian company he usually kept, and to hear her sweet singing in the mornings or her laughter echoing around as the Terrors trying to charm extra fish from her or a million other little things that he had come to notice. Odin above, he truly loved this woman.

Branch was just starting to get lost in some of his newer daydreams when Poppy's cut through his thoughts, “So what's her name?”

“Hmm?” He blinked, focusing on the woman still covered with a pile of baby dragons.

“Mama dragon there,” She nodded to the Gronckle, “Does she have a name?”

“Well...no...I don't run into her that often.”

Poppy pursed her lips, dissatisfied with his answer, “Well she deserves a name, I think.” Taking a good look at the content reptile still getting pets from Branch, she thought for a moment before her eyes lit up, “How about Spring?”

“Spring, huh?” Branch mused, moving his hand to scratch along the newly dubbed dragons neck scales. He had to chuckle, trust Poppy to want to name a creature she now considered a friend, and rather fitting name too. Shaking his head, he flashed her a small smile, “I suppose that works.”

Poppy grinned, wide and bright, before sitting up and dislodging the pile of baby Gronckles as she gestured for the mother to come close. Spring waddled over and let Poppy scratch under her chin before licking the viking's cheek in a very wet display of affection. Poppy squealed and laughed as she carefully wiped dragon drool off her cheek, “I think she approves!!”

Branch shook his head again and walked over to offer Poppy a hand off the ground, “Come on, Giggles, we've got more to see.”

“Really?!” Poppy gasped in delight as she let Branch hauled her up. She danced excitedly from foot to foot, ignoring the drying drool on her clothes, “What other hatchlings are we gonna see?!”

Branch just rolled his eyes with a smile and gestured with head. Turning around, Poppy spotted a group of Nadders close by and giggled, “Oooh~!” She laughed as Branch simply took her hand and started to take her closer before she turned to wave back at the family of Gronckles, “Bye-bye, Spring! You take good care of those babies!”

Branch chuckled lowly as he watched Poppy happily skip beside him as she turned back around, “You are a very strange viking, you know that?”

“Oh, shush!” Poppy scolded, bumping her hip against his, “You're strange too. I mean...you figured out how to tame dragon's! Most everyone else...well...” Didn't think these magnificent creatures were worth getting to know.

“Only because someone never shut up about how there was more to them than what we feared.” He squeezed her hand gently, knowing where her thoughts had gone.

It was Poppy's turn to roll her eyes but she squeezed back to show she appreciated the gestured, “Yeah but it took you getting saved by a Night Fury for you to see that.” She then shook her head, hair flying over her shoulder, before smiling at him, “But let's not talk about that anymore. Everything's good right now and we've got some Nadder babies to see!”

Huffing out a laugh, Branch nodded, “Alright, alright.” He led her up to the flock of Deadly Nadders, their scales glittering in the sunlight and gently pushed her towards them, “Let's see what you remember about Nadders.”

Poppy nodded, steeling herself up, as she looked at the dragons in front of her, “...They like to be complimented?” She looked over her shoulder at Branch and saw him nod, a proud smile adorning his face. “Right.” A deep breath and she was walking closer but didn't get too far as a trio of hatchlings poked their heads over their mother's back before rushing closer to Poppy. She cooed at the sight of them and held her hands out for them to sniff. They were all in varying shades of blue and she couldn't help giggling as they hopped around her, sniffing and chattering at her. “Look at you three~ You're all so pretty~!” She reached out a pet one under the chin, causing the other two to headbutt in for scratches of their own.

Branch watched on, arms crossed, standing back and letting Poppy get to know the baby Nadders. He felt safe enough around the dragons on this side of the island to just let her interact and learn on her own but would step in if the need arose. Of course, he'd feel even better had his own dragon partner been beside them on this venture. But Celeste, the very Night Fury that had saved his life and he had bonded with, was watching her own set of to-be-hatched eggs back at their little homestead. Blinking his thoughts away on how much of a surprise it had been to find Celeste had had eggs, Branch focused on the present as the mother Nadder of the three got up and walked up to Poppy.

Poppy blinked as her vision was suddenly filled with a large snout and warm breath was being blown in her face, “Oh...Hello~” She reached up and held the adult dragons chin as she began to gently scratch at her scales. “Aren't you a beauty? And you have some gorgeous babies~ They're so lively!” She said calmly, making sure to keep eye contact as she spoke. The mother Nadder gave a low purr before gently nuzzling her head against Poppy's in thanks for the compliments. Poppy giggled and rubbed her chin in earnest, cuddling the dragon best she could as the young ones chased each other around the two.

Branch chuckled at the scene before titling his head as an idea entered it. Approaching carefully, he spoke up as he held his hand out to the mother, “You know...she'd be a pretty good match for you. Or Spring, even. Both are even tempered and I'm sure you could easily bond with either.” Not that he or Celeste minded riding with Poppy but he knew she wanted a dragon partner of her own.

Poppy hummed as she continued to pet the Nadder before shaking her head, “No...I don't think...” She paused, thinking on how to phrase what she felt without sounding like she wouldn't be happy with either, “They're both wonderful but I just feel like...neither are really meant to be my partner. I know I could easily bond with them but...something just tells me...to wait till I meet that right dragon.”

“...You do know we're talking about dragons and not finding a lover, right?” Branch said in a deadpan voice. He got what she was saying but he also couldn't resist teasing her a little for being so serious. Which was another thing she brought out in him, he never liked to tease like this back on their home island.

Poppy scrunched up her face before sticking her tongue out at him, “Oh shush! You know very well what I meant. Plus...�� She slipped over next to him, eyes shining mischievously, and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Why would I need to look for another lover when I've got you~?”

Branch's face grew red and he sputtered for a response before shouting, “There are hatchlings about!!” He couldn't-well no, he could believe she'd use their newfound relationship against him like that, he just didn't think it'd be quite as unexpected as it was.

Poppy laughed, the dragons looking at her in confusion as she wrapped her arms around Branch's to keep herself upright, “Hahaha!!! You should see your face!!” She tried to reign in her laughter, more snickers and giggles escaping before she managed to get a light hold of herself in order to say, “I don't think the dragons really care about our human mating rituals.” And then she was giggling all over again.

Branch glared at her with a pout, face and ears still red, “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her hand and started pulling her away, “Come on, we're losing daylight and if want to see more baby dragons, we got to get going.”

“Aww...” Poppy attempted to whine, smile still a mile wide on her face. “Bye, cuties~!” She shouted to the family of Nadders before turning around and following Branch. Before they got too far though, she quickly hopped up and kissed his warm cheek, “Forgive me? I was just teasing a little. You know that, right?”

Branch sighed, shoulders dropping as he did so, “Of course, I know that.” He turned then to glare playfully at her as he wagged a finger threateningly, “Just watch it in front of impressionable young dragons!”

Poppy snorted and nodded, “Oh, yes. Of course, sir. Whatever the expert says.”

Rolling his eyes, Branch tugged her back on course to their next destination, ”Come on.” Poppy was one ridiculous woman but he wouldn't change her for the world.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They spent the rest of the afternoon observing and playing with all sorts of hatchlings. Branch had taken her to a group of Monstrous Nightmares after they had left the Nadder family where she found a whole host of excitable and mischievous little dragons. Of course that was only after the titan wing leader had loomed over her and Branch in attempt to appear intimidating, and it had almost worked, before Poppy had complemented his mate and babies. The larger than normal Nightmare was then absolute putty in her hands as he rumbled approvingly and let the blond scratch behind his horns. They then spent a good time surrounded by the willowy reptiles, Poppy playing with the hatchlings as they chased and nipped at her while Branch watched on and checked a few of the surrounding dragon's health.

Eventually the group had gotten larger as a few Zippelbacks had wandered over to enjoy the warm rocks. Poppy had learned then just how much of a handful the two headed hatchlings could be, they fought more constantly with each other than the adults did and were some of the most clumsy dragons she had met! She had been playing a game of tag with the babies, some Gronckles and Nadders joining in when one Zippelback, or two if you counted the heads separately, had tripped over a few Gronckles and rolled right into a Nightmare. The two young dragons had almost fought with each other, snapping and growling while Poppy tried to stop them, when Branch stepped in and calmed both of them down. After that, he had suggested they leave the dragons to themselves and that he had something else he wanted to show her.

That something had turned out to be a grove of trees where the Terrible Terrors made their nests and after greeting a few Poppy had been treated to the pleasure of seeing and holding the babies. They had been, of course, the smallest she had seen so far and she could easily hold four at a time in her arms. She had almost cried from the cuteness as she cuddled the tiny dragons. After finding the strength to leave all that cute behind, she and Branch had made they way back to their home base, the sun having set before they climbed up to a warm hut and simple meal. Poppy had been falling asleep in her food, tired from a full day of walking and playing, while Branch made a quick check on Celeste. After that they had both fallen into bed, asleep long before their heads hit fur.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It couldn't have been more than a few hours later when Branch was being rudely awoken by tiny claws tugging at his hair and a small reptilian body colliding with his. He made the effort of tugging his arm from around Poppy to bat at the Terror to leave him alone. The green Terror, Trouble as he was known, cried in his ear and redoubled his attempts to get his tamer awake. Branch groaned and after attempting to wave Trouble away again, simply pulled the furs up higher around him to ignore the tiny claws trying to drag him out of bed. He wasn't falling for whatever the dragon wanted right now, he was tired and just wanted to sleep.

Poppy stirred next to him as he wrapped his arm around her again, awoken by his fidgeting. “Wha's goin' on?” She slurred as Branch tugged her closer.

“Trouble is earning his name.” Branch growled as the Terror continued to jumped on him and yell in his ear. That's when another small weight could be felt landed on their bed and a softer cry could be heard. Oh great, now Dawn was joining in. “What!?” Branch snapped as he sat up and glared at the two dragons, “What do you two want?!”

Both squawked at him at the same time, seemingly trying to tell them something when a deeper more louder cry sounded from the direction of the stable. Branch blinked, Poppy sitting up beside him rubbing her eye, as he listened again. When the cry registered to Branch as his Night Fury calling he quickly got up with a 'It's Celeste' to Poppy before he was down out of the loft. Poppy quickly scrambled after him, shivering as the cold night air met her bare legs with the Terrors following after her. She jogged into the stable's open door and found Branch standing there in front of Celeste's pad with the Night Fury herself curled around two rocking eggs.

Celeste warbled happily now that her two humans were present for the birth of her hatchlings and went back to watching the eggs move. Branch blinked, coming out of his shock that it was happening, and sank to the floor with a sigh as he gently tugged Poppy down with him. Smiling, she scooted close and laid her head on his bare shoulder as they watched one of the eggs, the darker of the two, wobble more and more. Soon a crack formed with more quickly following before a loud crack sounded and out popped a small black form of a dragon with too big wings and floppy head fins. Poppy cooed as Celeste carefully sniffed at her hatchling as the baby Night Fury rolled around to it's feet.

Sitting up, the small dragon cocked it's head to the side as it gazed at Branch and Poppy with bright blue eyes. Curious, it clumsily climbed over it's mother's tail and approached them, nostrils moving as it took in the new smells. It looked almost identical to Celeste but there was a small patch of white scales on it's chest. The newly hatched dragon boldly came close enough to sniff at Branch's offered hand before giving a small roar and climbing over his lap. Poppy laughed as it happily climbed up Branch's chest to his shoulder before perching it's upper body happily on Branch's head and giving a victory warble.

Branch glared halfheartedly up at the it as it ran it's snout into his hair, “Really?! This is happening?” He sighed when the hatchling made no response to move.

Poppy and Celeste both laughed to Branch's dismay before Poppy held out her hand for the baby to sniff, “What do you think it is?”

“It's a boy.” Branch answered with certainty, “His build's a little different from Celeste's.” Said mother dragon crooned in agreement before turning her attention to her second egg.

Poppy returned her gaze as well, letting Branch deal with his little friend, to watch and see what the second hatchling would look like. It took a little while longer but just as Poppy was getting worried something was wrong a crack appeared on the smooth surface of the egg. The shaking got a little faster, though not as violent as the first's had been, before more cracking sounds echoed around them. Soon enough a nose broke through the shell and a small glistening white dragon fell out. Poppy cooed again as she watched Celeste tend to her newest baby as Branch laughed softly.

“So that's where she went.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Poppy asked, looking at Branch.

“We've come across a Light Fury a few times in the last few years. I guess Celeste decided he was worthy of becoming her mate. Though I'm surprised he hasn't been around if that's the case. I've heard Furies tend to mate for life.” He explained, petting the male hatchling as it finally settled down.

“Hmm...” Poppy hummed, “Well maybe he likes just likes to travel and knows Celeste wants to stay by you?”

Branch chuckled softly, amused by her theory, “Who knows. I may have learned a lot but even I don't know everything yet. They're still so mysterious,”

Poppy nodded and turned to look at the smaller hatchling as it cried out softly. Celeste carefully picked it up and placed it upright so it could look at Branch and Poppy. Poppy held back an excited coo, this one was almost cuter than its brother, with its bright green eyes the same shade as Celeste's, and she carefully held a hand out. The hatchling, smaller and more streamlined looking, shyly backed up before looking up its mother. Celeste carefully nudged it toward Poppy and it slowly approached, eyes watching Poppy's every move. When it was close enough, it sniffed at her palm before giving her a shy lick, which made Poppy giggle softly. Blinking, the small reptile decided her lap looked warm and carefully crawled into it, curling up and closing its eyes. Poppy's heart melted then and there and she promised herself and all the gods that she would do anything to protect this precious bundle. Well, bundles, she'd protect the little boy too of course.

“Looks like you've made a friend.” Branch said softly, the male hatchling happily gumming at his hand as he laid in his lap.

“Yeah...” Poppy gently glided her hand across its back, electing a small purr, “Tell me...is it a girl?” She thought so but she wanted to be sure.

Branch nodded, “She is.”

Poppy smiled, letting her head fall back onto his shoulder as she gazed at the small female in her lap, “They need names.” When Branch hummed in agreement, she bit her lip in concentration before smiling, a perfect name in her head. “How are about Freya? I don't think the goddess would be too offended at this beautiful little girl being named after her.”

“Fitting. Very fitting.” Branch said as Celeste rumbled her own approval. Looking down at the little Night Fury in his lap, the dark haired man made a suggestion of his own, “How about Bitey for this one?” Celeste snorted and growled her rider for the ridiculous suggestion which had Branch chuckling, “Okay, okay...How about Storm? Appropriate?”

Celeste rumbled, finding the name suitable, before climbing off her pad and curling around the two humans. Settling herself down, head beside Branch and tail curling around them, she let the two leaned back against her as they held her hatchlings. Poppy yawned and shifted slightly, feeling her eyelids grow heavy now that they excitement was over. This had been one of the best days in her life and she couldn't wait until the next year when it happened again. She felt Branch lay his head on top of hers and smiled lightly, she was getting to experience all these wonderful things because of him.

“Thank you,” She mumbled, sleepily.

“Mmm...welcome.” Branch murmured back before they settled down, safe and sound surrounded by their draconic family and each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~

BABY DRAGONS!!! Look at all that fluff, hope you all got cavities XD So yeah, it was (and is) a little hard to put Branch and Poppy into this verse as Viking's were very different from fun loving trolls but hopefully I've done alright with the little clues I put in there concerning where these two come from. Anyway, You will see more of Celeste, her babies and the Terrors in whatever future fics that are set after this one, alongside Poppy's eventual partner dragon (I'm keeping a secret until said shot, heeheehee) But here's a list just so you know who's who;

Branch's dragons; Celeste (Night Fury), Trouble (Green Terrible Terror)

Poppy's dragons: Dawn (Pink Terrible Terror)

Celeste's babies: Storm (Night Fury), Freya (Light Fury) (And don't get me wrong I love the Night Lights, I just wanted less mixed babies)

Anyway, see you all next year! (Haha, new years joke XP)

#Dreamworks Trolls #HTTYD #Branch #Poppy #Broppy #Fluff #Fanfiction #HTTYD AU #Dragons #Baby dragons #Dragon OCs #dreamworkstrolls #Human AU

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solidburnreturned · 6 years

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Every Single Night

A look at what Branch’s evenings are like.

(fic is set before the movie. mega angsty and borderline dark; about how his depression, anxiety, and paranoid ocd manifests at the worst of times.)

Murky grey clouds poured rain onto the forest below. Thunder clapped, shaking the earth, followed quickly by lightning. The storm was upon Troll Village and didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon, drenching every inch of the area. Most trolls were tucked away safely in their warm, dry pods, hunkered down for the night, letting the rain form a sort of soothing lullaby.

Most trolls, but not all.

One troll, as grey as the sky above, slogged his way through the muddy grass, shoving along a large apple. The fruit was as big as Branch was, and was proving to be more of a hassle in the rain than he had anticipated. He wasn’t prepared at all for the storm, and that bothered him. Being prepared was his whole life; it consumed almost every bit of his time. To not be ready for something was to take a huge risk. To be in danger. At least it was in his eyes. He wanted to get out of the rain ASAP. The loud thunder and the large drops beating against any wand all surfaces was loud enough to drown out any noise that an approaching predator might make. No matter how much he strained, swiveled, and pricked his ears, he couldn’t hear anything other than the steady beat of the downpour. It was also much too dark to see anything beyond the surrounding foliage that could be lurking, eager to strike and claim a tasty meal of troll with fresh fruit. Paranoia put a hot spark under his feet and he picked up his pace.

Soaked to the bone and shivering, Branch finally arrived at his unwelcome mat. He threw it open and kicked the apple in, jumping in after it and latching the hatch shut. A sigh of relief and exhaustion mingled with the hammering raindrops above the hatch. Storms like that were unusual this late into Fall. Unexpected. Anything unexpected was really inherently threatening, if you thought about it long enough. And Branch gave anything threatening plenty of thought.

Wringing out his hair with one hand, he used the other to start his elevator down to one of his storage rooms. The biggest one was where he stored his apples. They were a sizable food source for him, and very versatile as well. Fine if eaten raw, but could be dried, made into pies, crisps, soups, stews, the seeds could be roasted, and even the occasional hard cider could be made from fermented apples when he needed to wind down after a particularly hard day. Just one apple could provide him with all of this. Definitely worth the trouble.

Coming to a stop at the apple-filled mini cave, Branch quickly booted the fruit in with the others and continued down. He was cold, tired, and desperate for a change of clothes. The bunker was already chilly enough without icy, dripping fabric clinging to his shivering frame. Wonderful for the hot summer months and quite comfortable in the spring, but nothing short of damp and miserable the other half of the year. He’d have to clean his chimney out before the first frost if he wanted any chance of staying warm during the winter.

Arriving outside his bedroom, he peeled off his vest and threw it onto a stray chair, not about to toss it into his hamper and make all of his other worn clothes damp and possibly moldy. His shorts soon followed and both were replaced with dry equivalents. Satisfied, he wandered back to his elevator once more. His internal clock (a.k.a. his growling stomach) was hinting that it was well passed time for him to make himself dinner.

Thunder rumbled again from above, prompting Branch to glance upward. Fitting. The mood within the bunker was not unlike that of the one above; dreary, gloomy, and lonesome. Although, lonesome seemed to be around whether it was raining or not. Especially this time of day. He stretched his shoulders with a grunt, trying to distract himself from getting into a bad mood.

The lift settled at the bottom of the bunker with an echoing clunk. Branch plodded towards his meager kitchen, debating if he was up to actually cooking something or if he should just have some cold leftover acorn gruel. He had done so for the past few nights. Next time, he’d tell himself. Poppy had given him a handmade scrapbook-style cook book a few weeks earlier with recipes she loved and hoped that he would enjoy, too. She’d even included little cutouts of her and Branch cooking on each page, smiling, covered in flour or chocolate or whatever else they could make a mess with. Some dishes had actually seemed quite good: Pancakes with raspberry filling and blueberry sauce. Coffee cake with strawberry chunks and cinnamon. Smoked fish with roasted carrots and acorns. Recipes that had delicious results, but required a good amount of time and effort. Time and effort had seemed to be in short supply for him recently, resulting in his current cycle of leftovers. He didn’t want to start making it a routine, but he just hadn’t had the energy to prepare anything. Ironic, after days of nothing but preparation.

A low sigh was released through his nose. A calloused hand rubbed at his eyes. Exhaustion was hitting him hard and fast. He had already been running on little sleep when he had been caught in that storm and had exerted himself on top of that trying to rush back home. The last few days of constant foraging, manic energy, and anxious insomnia were now starting to drag him down mentally as well as physically. Rather rapidly, at that.

Yeah, it was another leftovers night. Next time.

---

Sitting in the middle of his old couch felt better than pressing himself into one of the corners. He’d learned this some years ago. More room to spread out...stretch...scatter some books around for easy reading...feel like it wasn’t meant for a group of trolls to share, but rather one single troll to sit by himself on...

...stretch some more...

A bowl of watery, unheated, straight-from-the-fridge acorn porridge sat dejectedly on the small stump table in front of a pair of grey legs. Not much had been done to it. Branch was staring at it like he was attempting to make it to start floating, or maybe even disappear. Like it was the last thing he wanted to have in front of him in that moment. He scratched his chin before resting it in his hand, leaning forward to stare at the dirt wall instead. Had his stare been able to bore holes, it’d have dug more than halfway through that wall to troll-knows-where with the amount of time he’d spent glaring at it over the last several years, daydreaming like he was now. He imagined a happy pink troll being there instead of the cold earth. The clammy acorn sludge was instead a hot, homemade soup that she’d brought him. To put some love in your tummy! He picked up the spoon and scooped up a bit of the bowl’s contents. He looked back up at Poppy, who was grinning, eager for him to taste what she’d made just for him.

“Cheers,” he muttered with a half smile, popping the spoon into his mouth.

As soon as the bitter taste hit his tongue, his imagined Poppy was gone, replaced with dirt once more. The hot soup tasted as though it had been swapped out for dirt as well. Lovely. He swallowed quickly and tossed the spoon back on the table. The bowl was snatched off the table as we walked back to the kitchen towards the sink. Rather than torture himself by eating that slop spoonful by painful spoonful, he tipped the whole thing into his mouth in one go. Swallowing with a shudder, he tossed the bowl into the sink with the others and went to sit at his desk instead of that awful couch. The clatter of a tower of bowls tumbling over made him jump as it pierced the stillness he had been in previously. He should probably do some dishes soon. Tomorrow, for sure.

Another rumble of thunder mulled through the thick silence in the bunker. Branch picked up one of the many charcoal nubs lying on his stump desk and sat heavily on the rock chair. Practically nothing in this bunker was comfortable to rest on. Even his bed had grown rigid over the years, and that old couch was like a brick with a thin layer of moss. Unyielding, stone-like, cold to the touch. Hmm.

One mindless drawing session later, the grey troll found himself staring at a rather unpleasant image. A scratchy, smudged version of himself in the craggy jaws of a bergen. Its eyes were bloodshot and wide with anticipation for the high it would soon get. Branch’s eyes were wide as well, with terror and desperation instead, as his hands seemed to reach off the paper to his creator in a last-ditch effort to get to safety. Branch scrunched up his face. That acorn gruel was at the back of his throat for a moment until he shoved the drawing away roughly. He didn’t want to think about that right now. Not that what he wanted mattered very much when it came to his thoughts. They came and went as they pleased, intruding almost constantly, bringing disturbing and upsetting images like that at the best of times. A twitch of the ears, and he was back to drawing, trying to depict something a bit nicer. A bit softer.

He tried to make the charcoal glide over the page, ignoring his usual urge to make scratchy, sketchy, hard marks. Gentle curves, swooping lines. His nose was almost touching the paper, he was leaned in so close. His thumb carefully smudged here and there to add shading. Small dots for freckles. Curly marks for flowers. One quick swipe of black for a grin.

He leaned back, dropping the charcoal next to his finished piece. Poppy’s smiling face beamed up at his sullen expression, almost willing him to tug up the corners of his own mouth. An all-too-familiar ache settled in his chest, turning his almost-smile into a definite frown. Thunder clapped. He tore the drawing into pieces. Best to get ready for bed.

---

Scrubbing vigorously at his teeth, Branch avoided eye contact with his dull reflection as he stood at his old sink. When was he going to get rid of that stupid mirror, anyway? He made sure to get rid of any lasting traces of that gruel before finishing and heading off to his bedroom. He shrugged off his vest and carefully hung it back in his closet. An hour or two of wearing did not warrant it a wash. He wasn’t that grungy.

He stared into the left corner of his closet for a moment. A small box sat in the shadows, a bit dusty from being left alone for a good while. A cobweb had even appeared on one of its wooden sides, one of which read “G.R.”. Still, he decided not to touch it. Not tonight. He closed the closet door with a click and walked over to his small nightstand, reaching up to tap the bioluminescent mushroom growing from above, encouraging it to give off a bit more light. A small journal and a bit of charcoal was gathered in his large hands from off the table. Lying back into his bed, stiff pillow propped up for extra support, he flipped to his latest entry and began writing below it:

October 12

Averaged 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Cloudy. Windy. Thunder storm in the evening and into the night.

Supplies gathered:

- 32 pieces of firewood

- 12 blueberries

- 10 acorns

- 5 jars of fresh water

- 1 apple

Notes: Growl Beasts are becoming more aggressive as they prepare to hibernate. Should attempt to warn the village tomorrow. Thunderstorm despite storm season’s passing. River may start freezing soon. Should go fishing beforehand and stock up. No bergens spotted.

Poppy encounters: 0

His shoulders sank a bit as he closed the log book. He was tempted to leave the last bit of information blank, as the night was still fairly young, but common sense beat that hope back down. The princess would not be out in this rain just to come visit him and get yelled at to go away. She was overly cheerful and friendly, yes, but not stupid. He knew that much.

The log was traded out for a larger, more personal journal. Once a blank page was located, he stared at it carefully, rubbing his temple and brow with two fingers as his thoughts swam. He drew up his knees closer to himself, almost to become smaller, more hidden from...no one, he supposed. He started to write:

A storm rolls through

Grumbling, heaving, heavy

Longing to pour out what its been harboring

But too afraid

As others would drown.

And what then?

Branch paused and grunted before flipping to a clean page. He tapped the charcoal against the page for a moment, thoughts drifting back to the princess. He began again:

Take me in your gentle hands

Our contrast as stark as warm sunbeams shining through murky skies

Mold me into something softer

More in your own image

Smooth my sharp edges

Touch me with tenderness that I haven’t-

“Ahh,” he hissed, aggressively swiping to a new page. Stupid.

A dog that bites every hand that attempts to feed it deserves to starve.

It bites to protect those who it has bitten

But-

He scratched viciously at the paper, teeth bared, before slamming the journal shut. He held it with white-knuckle grasp, fighting the urge to throw it across the room. A couple deep breaths, and it was roughly placed back on the table. Not a night for that, it seemed.

Another roll of thunder.

He slid down further to lie flat on his back, staring at the softly glowing mushrooms above him as he calmed back down. In his mind, they became twinkling stars in a clear summer sky. He turned to face his right. Imaginary Poppy was back, magenta eyes fixed up above to the stars above them. She turned to face him and gave him a small smile. That little gap in her front teeth could’ve melted him right then and there. She reached a hand over and traced the crows feet in the corner of his eye. He shut them, just for a moment, a bit longer than a blink, just a bit too long. The princess was gone as soon as he opened them again. The stars were back to being mushrooms on the ceiling of the muggy, chilled room.

With a shiver and a sniff, Branch clenched his eyes shut and rolled onto his side. He needed sleep, he was starting to lose it. He yanked his patchy blanket up over his shoulder in one swift motion, trying to nestle down into the bed. It pushed back against him stubbornly. A heavy exhale. He hated how big this stupid bed was. Big, lumpy, cold, empty, lonely, made for two, occupied by one. Why did he have a second pillow. Why did he always sleep in the same spot, as if the left side of the bed was reserved, claimed by another troll. He couldn’t even bring himself to edge a bit closer to the middle. Ridiculous.

He shut his eyes tightly, trying his best to clear his clamoring mind enough to get some actual rest.

---

The sharp sound of feet kicking against sheets ripped through the air as Branch jolted awake with a gasp. Sweat beaded on his brow and his skin felt clammy. He sat up with a cough and tried to catch his breath. Same dark room, same dirt and root walls, same uncomfortable, barren bed. Reality was hardly reassuring to him, but better than the alternative his brain had conjured in his sleep. Sweaty palms pressed into his eyes before being dragged down his face with a sigh-ish grumble. The small clock on his table told him is was barely passed midnight. His growling stomach affirmed this information.

It was a bad habit, but he couldn’t shake it, no matter how hard he tried. It was either get a midnight snack or lie there with his own thoughts all night, too hungry to fall back asleep. Cruelly, sometimes the food wasn’t enough, and he’d be up all night anyway without rumbling demands from his gut to distract him. It would just be him and his thoughts. Those intrusive, unwelcome thoughts. And silence. But maybe tonight would be different.

He slid off his bed with a huff and made his way to the storage room across the hall. His legs were a bit more like jelly than he liked. He tapped a dimly lit mushroom and it immediately brightened up, illuminating the pile of blueberries that nearly reached the ceiling. Dipping into his emergency supplies made him anxious, but not anxious enough to stop him from plunking himself down next to the pile and helping himself to however many he wanted, blank faced. However many it took to fill this gnawing hole inside him, he supposed. He’d just mark how many he ate in the dirt, and then go out and collect enough to replace them tomorrow, and then some. His collection was already impressive. 734 berries tucked away for safekeeping.

...733, now.

He wished he could feel a bit proud about it, but really, it was just the product of a monotonous routine that he’d grown tired of. At one point he quite enjoyed it, felt accomplished, found comfort in the fact that he was so prepared. Now, if anything, foraging was a manic chore that had become an unpleasant compulsion, and the results were just a foreboding reminder that something was going to go horribly wrong one day. A bergen would arrive at the village and, like a coward, he would run away and hide. He would stay deep in his hole in the ground for another 10 years, truly by himself. No cheerful morning songs to wake up to, no booming late-night parties to keep him up. No one sneaking up on him to give him a spine-contorting bearhug. No more glitter-vomiting invitations being shoved in his face. No more visits from his princess, offering kind words, encouragement, inclusivity. No more adorable smiles, pink blushes, tucking of hair behind ears, mischievous winks. No more hurt expressions after harsh words. No more teary eyes or downcast looks. No more dejected walks back to the village. No more second, third, fourth, seemingly endless chances. That would end, and the village would be destroyed, and everyone would be gone for good. Except him, in his bunker, alone, for ten long years, until his supplies finally ran out. And even then he would remain down here, rather than face whatever horror was above ground, bergen or bergen-caused.

Branch shakily wiped his eyes and shook his head. That was enough. Plenty. Time to go back to bed.

He paused in the doorway for a moment. Down the shadowy hallway was another desk, smaller than the one in the main room of the bunker. Beside it were two small shelves, hidden behind ratty curtains, unlike the many other selves and cubbies on the surrounding walls. Unconsciously, he traveled to the desk and sat down, staring at the curtains. Carefully, almost fearfully, he drew them aside. The blast of color was visible even in the low light. His favorite invitation was selected and gently placed on the table. His eyes felt so heavy. Everything felt heavy. Crushing. If his hand were to even touch a single corner of this invitation, it would surely turn to dust. Destroyed by his rough hands. His ears drooped down, the silence heavy within them as well. He should go back to bed. Get some rest before going back out to forage tomorrow. Everything out there would be heavy, too. Sodden with the drenching rain. Unmovable, maybe. No matter how much it was pushed or pulled or encouraged or hugged, it would stay heavy and solid. Stubborn. Anchored by the product of a looming storm.

He blinked rapidly and drew in a deep breath. Reigning in his imagination was difficult when he was awake and alert, let alone half asleep and groggy. The invitation was nudged open. Two little figures popped out at him, stood atop a neon orange mushroom. Warm pink and dull grey arms were wrapped around each other, and big smiles stretched on little paper faces. Happy Valentine’s Day! was written in glittery, swooping letters across a rainbow of pinks, purples, reds and whites. Hearts on little springs danced lazily around the pair. Branch felt taunted by them. He frowned at the small grey figure. How dare it be there, honestly. An ugly smudge in such a beautifully colorful scene, embracing the happiest troll that could ever exist. What had he done to deserve that? Deserve such a loving gesture from someone so sweet and kind? With the awful things he’d done?

The invitation was slammed shut with both hands. He couldn’t take this torment his brain was putting him through. Couldn’t he just enjoy anything anymore? Not everything had to be upsetting, or miserable, or depressing. This downward spiral he could feel himself entering needed to stop. Somehow. At least that’s what he thought for the most part. There was always that small, nagging feeling to just let it happen, let his mind run wild, painting whatever horrors and torments it wanted. To just hit rock bottom and stay there, away from everyone and everything external that could hurt him. Internal, he’d have to deal with on his own. But really, he’d had practice, so maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Probably not.

He recoiled with a sharp inhale. Sleep. Back to sleep. The card was hastily tucked away back in its place and hidden behind the curtains.

His feet dragged as he entered his bedroom again. This really was his least favorite room in the bunker. The bed was cold when he climbed back in, drawing the covers up. He faced the empty space beside him, breathing shallow, mouth slightly ajar. He could feel his anxiety starting to build as he stared into the blackness before him. Shapes formed in the nothingness, but disappeared as soon as he attempted to focus on them. Ghosts? Burrowing predators? What was it. What were they. Anxiety turned to a fearful panic. It festered at the very base of his skull. It spread slowly to his temples, just behind his eyes, into the tense muscles of his neck, up and down his spine. Settled right in his gut and festered some more. Stabbed at his nerves, squeezed his lungs, churned his stomach. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped his arms around himself and tucked his legs to his body, trying to squeeze out the throbbing ache. The silence was overwhelming. It was just unreal, paranormal...there must be something causing it. Something waiting in the silence to take him, rip him to absolute shreds in the space where he should feel safest. Just beyond the edge of the bed, it was waiting. He could feel it, sense it, hear it in the silence. It was so loud. He clamped his hands over his ears, worried he was already deaf. The thing would join him in the bed any second now, fill that empty void that he was saving. Years and years of saving. It would come creeping over over to him, engulf his entire body. Trace the wrinkles on his sweaty face, count the dark freckles on his cheeks and ears. A freezing cold touch. No tenderness, just ice. It would crawl into his ears through his fingers, seize him by the brain and destroy every bit of him from the inside out in one swift scream of pure nothingness. Fill him with silence as well.

The icy touch slapped him across the face so suddenly, he couldn’t hold back the scream of shock and terror he’d been holding hostage in his throat. The blanket was ripped away and the mushroom was hammered on until the whole room was alight with an eery blue glow. Ragged breathing was strangled into sobs. The room was empty. He was alone. Another small drop of water fell down from the ceiling and onto the end of his nose. Above, he could see condensation had gathered on the mushrooms, waiting for gravity to pull the moisture down onto him.

He screwed his eyes shut and reopened them, chest heaving. He was alone. It was just water. He was alone. It was all in his head. He. Was. Alone.

He buried his face in his knees, pulling at his mussed dark hair. Enduring these constant fights with his mind, clinging to slipping rationality, every single night...he didn’t know how to cope. He wished so badly that someone was there with him to hold him, pull him back to reality, tell him everything was alright. Ground him and give him reassurance. Tell him that he wasn’t alone, that he was strong, that she would be there for him always, that she cared for him. But he was alone, and she was in the village, surrounded by people she cared about instead down in this dank hole with him, the troll who had barked at her to go away every time she tried to get close. So instead he just sat, still as possible, and tried to get control of himself, tried to not let everything pour out of himself in a white-hot blaze of guilt and raw emotion.

“Poppy,” he whispered into his knees, voice breaking, “...I’m sorry...”

---

The clamor of his alarm ripped Branch from sleep in an instant. He hadn’t even realized he’d managed to fall into a dreamless sleep at some point of the night. What a blessing. His body’s position was less than favorable; sat up, head in his arms, resting on his knees. Wincing, he stretched out, locked up limbs cracking and popping. He twisted his sore back with a groan until he earned a few pops from there as well. A lazy hand was slapped onto the alarm. Silence once again. It was early morning, before the other trolls would be up and singing.

He cleared his throat loudly and slid off the bed, trudging to his closet. A fresh leafy vest was pulled on with a firm roll of the shoulders. Clicking his teeth together in a rhythmless fashion, he went to check on the damage he’d done on his berry supply in the night. Seven jagged lines were drawn in the dirt. No wonder he wasn’t particularly hungry this morning. What a shame, he’d have to miss out on acorn porridge for breakfast. A real tragedy.

He scoffed to himself and went to prepare his backpack. Slingshot, frying pan, rope, blanket, first aid, field notebook, charcoal, and a small jar of water. His usual arsenal for the day. It was all tucked away securely and slung over his shoulders with a huff. Maybe he’d forage closer to the village today. The terrain was more flat there, and probably wouldn’t be flooded. He did need to warn the other trolls about the increase in aggressive tendencies of the local Growl Beasts anyway. Poppy should really be the first to know, as the princess. It was just logical.

The elevator’s platform vibrated slightly under his feet as he ascended. His face was blank, staring straight forward, thick eyebrows slightly knitted together. Thoughts would normally be buzzing about in his brain, but he felt strangely clear and calm this morning. Like he’d had a reset. The fresh air felt wonderful against his skin as the bunker’s hatch was thrown open. The forest still had the smell of recent rains. The chill in the air was crisp. His breath was visible in front of him. Early morning in the forest was one of his favorite times. It wasn’t silent, but there weren’t any noisy celebrations happening either to attract hungry bergens. Just gentle wind blowing through bare tree limbs, the crunch of dried leaves under his feet, distant song of birds, and his own breath leaving his body.

Time to get going. Night would be approaching again before he knew it.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #branch #fanfic #my art #SORRY BRANCH #lowkey based on my own lowest points so...yeah...lmao

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misssophiachase · 6 years

Note

Klaroline + youre crazy famous and got my number somehow after my indie band covered you song, um, hi? Please! Please! Trade you prompts?

Haha this is fantastic Jenn, sorry for the delay. I have sent a royalty prompt your way too, which I hope you’ll enjoy if you have the time and inspiration, of course : ) This song choice was unusual for sure but think it works given the subsequent covers (like Travis) that I’ve heard and loved.

Hit Me Baby One More Time

Klaus strummed his guitar slowly, the sound travelling throughout the large room given just how good the acoustics were in one of the oldest venues in Brooklyn. It was mid-morning and the darkened bar was deserted this time of day while most of the regulars slept off their Friday night hangovers.

It was just the way Klaus liked it when he was practicing. It meant he didn’t need to hear Kol, Enzo and Lucien’s incessant whining and opinions about what he was doing or not doing in some cases.

Klaus was a creature of habit. Believe it or not he didn’t want to chase fame, he was happy playing his local bar in Brooklyn by night and working at his day job in Manhattan. He could practically feel the day’s stress ebb away as he played and sang each note, it was his release. He didn’t need anything else in his life. Well, that’s what he told himself.

His bandmates thought he needed some post-gig entertainment of the female groupie kind but Klaus had grown tired of that lifestyle fast. He’d been hurt before and more mindless flings weren’t the solution.

“Niklaus!” Kol interrupted his reverie, making his way toward the stage jovially. “You missed a fantastic party last night, big brother, apparently I’m God and I suggest you all call me that forthwith.”

“Pretty sure that was the alcohol talking,” Klaus quipped, knowingly.

“Alas, it was true,” Enzo shared, bass guitar case in hand and wincing slightly at his reluctant confession. “But it’s only because he’s trying to steal your thunder.”

“No surprises there,” Lucien grinned, mounting the stage and running his hands along the ivories of the keyboard.

“Well, if someone would just own up to the fact he arranged that inspired cover then God could keep going about his days getting laid and playing the drums,” he chuckled.

“It was just a little fun,” Klaus shared. He’d been unable to sleep one night a few months back and turned on a VH1 special to try to facilitate sleep given some of the mind numbing music they played but what hit him was a pop tune that had barely left his brain since.

He didn’t like the original composition but found himself wondering how the attractive girl on screen could still pull off high school in those plaits and extremely short school uniform.

A visit to wikipedia had allayed his fears that she was indeed now legal and the song had actually peaked in the charts eight years ago on its initial release. Apparently it was well-known but Klaus had spent that time studying and building up his prominent law career.

He’d stayed up all night, the melody begging itself to be written. Klaus wasn’t sure whether his bandmates would applaud his unusual creativity or give him grief for the rest of his life. Turned out his rendition had silenced them all and in a good way. Kol liked to tease him for his Caroline Forbes crush but when they performed it social media had erupted.

Klaus wasn’t used to such attention and when her management had contacted them directly, he thought it was a joke and had instructed the band to ignore it. But the contact persisted and he realised it wasn’t a hoax. The last thing he needed was some pop star, no matter how attractive, to arrive and get his bandmates excited. For them this was everything and to Klaus it was just a fun hobby.

“It’s one song,” he muttered. “Last time I checked we didn’t want to be known as a cover band.”

“Well, if you’d let us grow at all then you’d appreciate a big break when it’s dangled in front of your face, Nik,” Enzo growled.

“The artist herself wants to record a duet and a live performance but you won’t budge,” Lucien agreed.

“Aren’t we just having fun?”

“What’s fun if you can’t make it last?” Kol implored, Klaus was tempted to respond when another voice interrupted.

“I couldn’t agree more,” an American accent added. His blue eyes flickered to hers immediately. She was even more beautiful in person and Klaus was finding it hard to breathe.

He’d wanted to comment online about all the cruel comments from trolls on social media given her long but rollercoaster of a career. She was successful, ambitious and beautiful. Something he’d witnessed while watching that video on loop while writing the alternative arrangement, Klaus was that inspired.

“What, cat got your tongue?” She added, regarding them all curiously.

“Not at all,” Kol recovered after an extended pause. “I’m God.” She narrowed her eyes in his direction. “I mean, Kol.”

“I know who you are,” she advised pointing at Enzo, Lucien and Kol in turn. “Happy, Bashful and Dopey.”

“Way to make an impression, love,” Klaus teased, watching as Kol realised just what’d been said. “Do you always goad people you want to work with?”

“Only those who block my extremely reasonable offers, Grumpy,” she huffed. Klaus couldn’t miss just how gorgeous she looked in a pair of fitted jeans and simple, oversized, white shirt, her blonde waves cascading over her shoulders. Their eye contact only intensified while Kol attempted to intervene.

“I have to object.”

“Any chance I could get a minute alone with your frustrating brother, Dopey?” Klaus could sense his ire by the muttering but obviously knew not to mess with their future music opportunities.

The room cleared. albeit reluctantly, and it was just them. Klaus would be lying if he said it wasn’t messing with his composure. Her alluring scent of vanilla and strawberries was utterly addictive but he had no intention of giving into her demands.

“I bet you were one of the mean kids at school.”

“Hate to burst your bubble but I was a book worm, looks like my inner mean girl has finally resurfaced but for the greater good. Look, your rendition was beautiful,” she exhaled slowly. “I’ve never heard anything so emotionally raw or honest. I wish I could of had the strength at the time to portray my song like you did. ”

“What? Are you trying to tell me that high school kids don’t understand anything about real loss?”

“If only there was a sarcastic dwarf,” she rolled her blue eyes. Klaus couldn’t deny it wasn’t causing a few unfamiliar feelings that’d been lying dormant for way too long. “Look, I was naive, sixteen and wanted a singing contract, what can I say?” She admitted sheepishly. “I still cringe at my original version and hearing your rendition just awoke something inside.”

“Oh really?”

“I’m not that easy, not matter what Kol has indicated by way of unreliable gossip mags.”

“As hilarious that account of my dear brother is,” he chuckled, grabbing his guitar again and motioning for her to sit down. “How about we write something else?”

“Something else?”

“I wrote that version because it was new to me,” he implored. “For you that’s the song you wish you could change or even delete. How about we create something new you can make your own? Just you and me.”

“Are you sure you’ve got time, Mr Hot Shot Lawyer?”

“Did you read every single article on me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she teased. “I just stumbled upon your wikipedia profile searching Kol.”

Caroline was no Snow White and Klaus no Prince but turns out their collaborative song writing skills were second to none, so too their undeniable attraction. And they lived happily ever after.

#hit me baby one more time #klaroline drabbles #misssophiachase #gooddame #thanks jen #fun prompt #hope you like it

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herecomesnaya · 6 years

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you know, in the shower, I started thinking about this website and having some Shower Thoughts(TM) about internet safety as a whole, and how much better a place the internet is than it was even a little over a decade ago. safety-wise and convenience-wise.

back when I started using the internet, YouTube didn’t exist. if you wanted to listen to music, you had to haul your ass over to Yahoo Music and watch the video. if it didn’t have a video, or if you wanted to own the song without paying for the album? you download Limewire and hope to heck you’re actually downloading Britney Spears - Lucky.mp3 and not some virus that’d skullfuck your whole system. sometimes you’d get the actual song, but with some digitally-added person saying “Music - ON demand!” every minute and fifteen seconds, and you just had to deal with it.

and if you wanted to watch funny videos? you went to Ebaumsworld, or Funnyjunk, or Newgrounds, and watched them using Flash, and hoped that whatever you were about to see was actually what it claimed to be. does anyone remember that Flash video about the cute little strawberry who would go on to shriek and swear up a storm until its cartoon baby companion started wailing? that was OG Elsagate right there.

and screamers were all the rage. there was no central site to say “hey, this video/game/animation that’s being passed around is a screamer, so avoid it if you don’t like those things.” every new video you clicked, you watched 5 feet away from the computer with your hands cupped over your ears if it seemed suspiciously pleasant. you have anxiety? fuck you! epilepsy? fuck you! a normal, human, deep-seated fear of disfigured corpse faces and sudden loud noises? fuck you! the internet delighted at your torment.

not to mention, it was just a pain in the ass to navigate at all. you got the virus protection software your computer came with — McAfee, probably — and no adblock. you just had to deal with the occasional pop-up that bounced around the screen, singing “YOU ARE AN IDIOT” and literally laughing at you as you chased it around with your mouse, trying to close it without clicking inside the box and redirecting you to a malware-infested hellpit of a site. ads for new animated emotes and colorful talking desktop buddies tempted children and adults alike, until Internet Explorer had 15 extra toolbars and your computer tower wheezed for death with every pitiful sputter of its overworked fan.

want to talk to someone? find a geocities fansite, or a forum. how do you find one? well, you can try a search engine, or you can go onto the AOL chat rooms and try and scope out people with similar interests. chat rooms which, by the way, came with easy links to the 18+ rooms, with no age verification necessary. a few clicks, and you were in with the Mature People, getting 5 private messages a minute from people named BigDickDaddy and chatwu6969 asking for your ASL. getting harassed? fuck you! they can just come right back in with a different display name.

back then, there was no automatic 18+ filtering, no warnings for sensitive content, no support for people’s triggers built into a site’s functionality. you heeded the warnings (IF the content creator was kind enough to post some), or you played a risky game of click-a-link and hoped you didn’t stumble across Goatse or Lemon Party this time. if you got offended, even by the most heinous things like IRL rape or pedophilia, you were laughed at, told to suck it up, had your breakdown posted on 4chan until a bunch of bored trolls found your home phone number and decided to flood it with cruel prank calls.

I hate to be all “kids these days,” but kids these days truly won’t know what it’s like to try and navigate an internet barren of pretty much every staple we have today. there was no looking someone’s name up on Facebook to confirm they were who they said they were; no block/report/spam buttons on everyone’s usernames; not even any fucking lyric videos for your favorite songs. it was truly the Wild West of the internet, a lawless wasteland filled with terrible people and tricks waiting for you at every turn.

so sure, websites today aren’t perfect. we shouldn’t stop trying to improve them. but you have so many ways to protect yourself from seeing things you don’t want to see nowadays, and you really shouldn’t take them for granted. turn on 18+ filters. blacklist tags. block people you can’t stand. friend and follow only people you trust, who post content you like. you have the power to tailor your internet experience to your personal tastes. use that power in every way possible, THEN find the flaws in the system and work to fix those. don’t just complain because you went into a fandom tag without blocking a ship name and had your poor eyes assaulted by, GASP, content for that ship.

this has been your Long Mostly-Pointless Ramble of the Day, thanks for stopping by

#the shitscourse

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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From Takis to Duvalín to Pelon Pelo Rico, Mexican snacks are spicy, sweet, sour — and well worth seeking out Mexicans have a vibrant snack culture rooted in the essential flavors of the chucheria: lime, salt, caramel, chamoy, tamarind, and chile. For Chicanos like me, the snacks that were part of our family gatherings and trips to Mexico have always been easy to find in neighborhood abarrotes, liquor stores, and supermarkets, keeping us connected to Mexican flavors and culture. The only privation we have these days is when one of our beloved brands goes mainstream and becomes easier to find in Ralph’s than at our mercaditos — I’m talking to you, Topo Chico. During the pandemic especially, I’ve relied on my nearby Oaxacan tienditas and regional Mexican supermarkets to stock up on my favorite spicy, sour, and salty treats. Below is a brief taste tour through the Mexican snacks that should fill your pantry to add more spice to your snack time. Note that where I am in Los Angeles, Mexican snacks are ever-present, pero no hay pedo (but no worries): If you don’t live near a Mexican enclave, you can find any of these online. Gansitos Gansitos This is the gold standard of Mexican snack cakes, consisting of an irresistible filling of strawberry jelly and cream atop an airy cake with notes of coconut, covered in chocolate and topped with chocolate sprinkles. Marinela, a division of world’s largest baking company, Grupo Bimbo, created Gansitos in 1957, and the treat counts generations of fans in Mexico and Mexican-American communities. If you want to eat these without getting trolled by your Mexican friends, be sure to put them in the fridge, because Gansitos congelados (cooled) are even better. Banderillas When you pick up a 50-piece container of these tamarind- or chamoy-flavored chile-dipped straws, no one knows if you’re having a kid’s birthday party or selling micheladas in your backyard in East LA. You can easily snack on the spicy fruit pulp that surrounds the plastic straw, or place the treat into your Chicanofied michelada like a Mexican-American bartender. Takis Takis Do you know anyone who hasn’t tried Takis? These highly popular rolled chips come in a variety of spicy flavors and can be found at any convenience store, but if you want to go to Takis heaven, head to a Mexican supermarket like California-based chains Northgate Gonzalez or Vallarta. There, you’ll find the better-known Fuego, Original, and Nitro Takis flavors, as well as more than a dozen others, including Titan, Crunchy Fajita, and cucumber, lime, and habanero-flavored Zombie. Cacahuates Japones Many Mexicans might not know the story of Japanese immigrant Yoshigei Nakatani, who came up with the now-ubiquitous cracker nuts (peanuts in a crunchy, wheat-flour dough shell with sweet endnotes). But any convenience store, market, or truck stop is likely to have Mexico’s favorite nut, which is also an ingredient in tostilocos, a Mexican street snack usually prepared inside a slit-open bag of Tostitos along with cueritos (pickled pork rinds), chamoy, sliced cucumbers, lime juice, jícama, and hot sauce. Like many Mexican snacks, you can also serve cacahuates Japones in a bowl with a squeeze of lime and generous streaks of hot sauce, or you can buy them coated in chile or chile and lime. Duvalín Duvalín Sometimes an international favorite may seem like an odd choice to an outsider, like Duvalín, a dual-flavored, sticky pudding that comes with a tiny spoon used to dig into combinations like hazelnut and vanilla, hazelnut and strawberry, and strawberry and vanilla. Like Americans who grew up with Jell-O pudding, Mexicans learned to love their more petite-portioned Duvalin for its “bi sabor” (two flavors) tagline, and now the brand has added packages with three and even four different pudding flavors. Maruchan Mexicans don’t want regional ramen made from shoyu, miso, shio, or tonkotsu base flavors — we want Maruchan instant ramen with lots of Tapatio and a squirt of lime. The Toyo Suisan company entered the Mexican market in the ’80s, coinciding with the arrival of microwave ovens, the preferred cooking device of instant ramen fans. Today you’ll find Maruchan sold at fondas, street stands, and comidas economicas south of the border; in the U.S., it’s in birriamen at Mexican food trucks and street stands and is the preferred brand for Mexican seafood trucks making seafood ramen. Mexicans eat so much Maruchan that hot sauce company Tapatío has entered the instant ramen market to capitalize on the growing trend among millennial Mexicans and Mexican Americans who are mixing their ramen with traditional Mexican dishes. Pelon Pelo Rico Pelon Pelo Rico These are like Push Pops filled with tamarind paste. They come in a variety of flavors, including original tamarind, watermelon, and sour lime, and with just enough citrus and spice to make this candy the gateway to micheladas. To get your fix and put some hair on Pelon, the candy’s bald mascot, just hold on to the plastic wings and press down. Vero Mango When there’s no Mexican fruit stand nearby, Vero Mango is the next best thing: a mango-flavored lollipop, adorably shaped like a tiny mango covered in chile powder. A candy that reflects Mexican street culture and features one of the most requested fruits should be on your shopping list at the abarrotes. Like a cup of prepared mango with lime, chile, and Tajín, it’s the perfect Sunday afternoon treat. Marias There are many Marias-style cookies, the round, embossed tea biscuits sweetened with brown sugar and first produced in England, but Mexicans prefer Gamesa, which has been around for almost 100 years. There’s no tea time in Mexico, so Marias are dunked in coffee or Mexican hot chocolate, and used in making desserts, including flan. Marias is even a favorite ice cream flavor in Mexican ice cream shops. Lucas Muecas Chamoy Lucas Muecas Chamoy If you want to teach your kids to expand their palates to include chile, try chamoy, a dehydrated fruit salsa that’s sweet, spicy, and sour, used on fresh fruit, ice cream, snacks, micheladas, and the Mexican seafood dishes of northern Sinaloa. Here, it’s in the form of a lollipop with an accompanying chile powder dip. Consider it training wheels for the flavors of Mexico. Sabritones Sabritones, airy chicharrones de harina (wheat cracklings) with lime and salt, are possibly the biggest name in Mexico’s puffed-wheat snack genre. The Sabritas brand, now owned by Frito-Lay, has been around since the 1940s in Mexico, where the company once delivered chips and other snacks on bicycles, slowly winning over the hearts and stomachs of generations of Mexicans. Duritos These wagon wheels are one of the most popular puffed wheat snacks sold at street snack carts, raspados carts, and even at cantinas, or centros botaneros. There is a recipe that one must follow to honor this bar bite classic: fill a bowl with duritos then add a squirt of lime and an even coating of salsa Valentina. If it’s good enough for likely half the cantinas in Mexico, it’s good enough for your Netflix party. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2FLd4be

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-ultimate-guide-to-mexican-snacks.html

#EasyFoodNetwork #ComfortFoodRecipes #EasyRecipes #GoodFood #BestComfortFoodRecipes #TastyFoodv

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sleepytrolls · 6 years

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Bye Bye Birdie

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

__________________________

Even as white painted over your eyes again and again, it still lingered. It licked at the corners of your vision even when you knew it was not there. It felt so far away. The ceiling, the couch, your body. When had been the last time your mind and body were one? You couldn’t remember. The distance felt like miles and the moments felt like hours. Everything tasted stale, like ash in your mouth. No movement felt like moving and what should be feelings lacked emotion. Haze clouded over everything you did, everything you felt like you were forever lost in a fog of yourself. Blank white fog. Nothingness. You were nothing. It was okay. Nothing mattered after all.

The fabric of your gloves felt like nothing. Were they really there? Were you really here? You didn’t know. The only noise was the distant echo that was of your bloodpusher, the cars so far down below were almost silent, it was so quiet. When had it gotten this quiet? Like a dream left on repeat, everything always went the same. Over and over. Nothing hurt, nothing excited you. Nothing, nothing, always nothing an endless loop of haze and silence. Lost in a fog of yourself. What were you suppose to be doing again?

Hours and minutes and days alike were lost to your mind. A constant beeping kept what you called a schedule the same, it reminded you of where you were and where you should be. It was there, far off lost in your pocket. The beeping that drew your attention from the ceiling. A phone. Not the only phone, but the one you kept closest to you. The other sat forever plugged into the side of your bed. Always there, never changing always waiting for something or someone to call. Someone who would never call. Who were you waiting for to call again? The smooth screen of the one that fit into your palm felt easy against your thumb, gliding and tapping endlessly. Just a swipe and the noise was gone and once again you were drowned in silence.

While your mind was forever a drift, your body kept living—but not alive, you didn’t feel alive. Just living. It functioned on autopilot, going in and out of your day with nothing to show. It was a wonder how it hadn’t stopped yet. Rising you from the couch and directing you to the kitchen. Any feeling of hunger had left you long ago, why eat? There was no reason to. Still you did. Warm and rosy coloring of strawberries met the cutting board. Sweet juices dripped down from the long dulled blade and you managed to catch yourself in the reflection. Nothing. For a bit, you just stared at it. Watching the color melt onto the board, staining it til its next wash. It was such a pretty color to see drip from the blade and you wondered if for a moment if it would hurt if the blade would drip from you too.

Traveling from the strawberries to your finger you tapped the tip of your finger against the cool metal, a soft tinking noise called from afar for you. You would answer the call. Pressing the tip to your finger you pressed down. Nothing. Harder. Nothing. Harder. Nothing. Harder. Nothing again. After so long, a small river ran from your finger down the blade, crashing like a waterfall to the board where it mixed with the red of the strawberries. It was all numb. No stinging pain or heat. Just numb. For some reason, something like relief washed through you.Standing there you watched the color trickle and flow. There was no reason to stop it for now.

Finally you took the blade away, it wasn’t doing anything for you. Lifting your finger, you placed the cut appendage into your mouth. While the pain might have been stale, as your tongue nursed the cut you found the taste lively though. It was vibrant, sharp like the knife it had been cut with. Part of you knew better, but another part wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. Would it taste the same if you did it to someone else? Would it feel different? You wouldn’t know. You’d never hurt another person before, it was something you weren’t too sure about.Actually, you weren’t sure how to feel about most things considering it all. It was doubtful that you would ever find out, despite the idea seeming almost…appealing? If you couldn’t feel it, why would they?

A sharp noise broke your dangerous train of thought. A rasp at the door. With the thought still bouncing around in your head, you set the knife down. You could use it again later. Removing the finger from your mouth, you expected the fresh sting that always followed, you found nothing though. Nothing, nothing, nothing. What continued to be odd was that you hadn’t expected anyone or anything today. So why a knock. It was startling to some level and part of you felt something that couldn’t be named. You should likely get the door.

It felt like floating in a strange way. Walking, running or moving in any other way. Would it feel like this forever? You didn’t know. It was okay you guess.

The knob felt cool in your hand as you opened it, it was nice. Sitting there in front of your door was a box, simple and plain. No name, no address, nothing on it. Was this for you? You didn’t remember ordering anything.Perhaps you had forgotten, that seemed to be happening more and more lately. Still, with nothing to mark it how did you know if it was really meant for you? Dipping your head out the door, you looked around. No one stood there but a janitor whose name you couldn’t remember.

What an odd occurrence. It was very possible you had ordered something where the packages were meant to be anonymous but what? Picking up the box, you brought it inside and moved to place it upon your table.

Next to the table was a large wall made of windows, it allowed you to look down below and hear the light noises of the cars passing by in the city. It was something to fill the silence that now often rung throughout your hive. It was also very good for taking pictures, something to pass the now overwhelmingly large amount of time you had. For a few moments you stared, just watching the cars go by, the lights of the night flickered on and off and in its own strange way it was beautiful.

Back to the box though. Simple fingers fumbled with the tape unsuccessfully incapable of prying it off even with your nails. Perhaps you should have kept the knife. You had known you were going to need it again.

Another noise stopped you, a soft ringing. So far off, so familiar. Why? No one ever called you. Why would they, it wasn’t like you could speak back. This ringtone though, it wasn’t yours. While it was familiar, your new iphone sat on a coffee table in sight. No, this was not your phone at all. It was hers. Hot stabs of something rushed into you, like a sword being pulled out of the forge just to be shoved into your chest. It took your breath away, it felt good.

Like a ghost you traveled to it. It had always been kept by your coon. Plugged into the wall, always on. Always waiting. You didn’t know why you kept it there. Perhaps because it was the last thing of hers you had. It had pictures of her in it, of you and her together. You had gone through and deleted all the ones of her and him together. You wish you hadn’t now. Never had you been able to tell him. No matter how many times he had called you or her, no matter how many messages he sent or how much he had pounded on the door. You never could bring yourself to answer or open the door. What would he say? What would he do? You had murdered the love of your lives. She was gone and you both were left without answers.

You wonder if he cried as much as you had.

The phone vibrated in your hands, the peppy old pop song recorded off a radio cheerily ringing out. The number was one you didn’t know. Perhaps he was calling again after all these sweeps just to see if maybe this time someone would pick up. Well maybe this time you could. You couldn’t provide many answers nor could you speak, but at least one of your minds could be at ease. Flipping open the phone, it was brought to your ear.

“Hi, It’s ‘Kaiteh’ from Hotline Miami’s dating service. We have set up a date for you this evening! She’ll be waiting for you at Southwest 53rd place.Please,make sure you wear something fancy!”

The voice that came through made you blink, not just once but twice. The troll on the phone, her voice was bright and bubbly. She seemed so excited to be delivering this message, but there was no way that this message could be for you. Never in your life had you signed up for a dating service. Why would you date anyone? You weren’t in a spot to commit yourself like that. You didn’t want to commit yourself like that just to have it ripped away again.

Click.

Before you could do anything, the line went dead.Now some poor troll was going to be waiting at Southwest 53rd place, with no date. It was a miserable thought to imagine, them just waiting alone for someone who would never come. It sounded familiar. Like a bad echo of memories that rang through your head. More red hot shoots through you. As you snapped the flip phone shut, you needed to take a deep breath. For a moment you wanted to look through the pictures, to soak in the ache that could still rest in your bones, but you decided against it and into your pocket it went.

Leaving you to think,why would a dating service call her phone? She had been dead for almost a sweep and a half now. It made no sense. So you kept it close just in case it would happen again. More questions without answers.

Speaking of questions without answers. The box once again came into view. Oh so calmly on the table. Just part of the series of odd events of today. That call sealed your resolve to open it. There was no way that these things couldn’t be connected somehow. It sparked something in you, a rush that you wanted to know. Stimulation. Not feelings but stimulation. Passing through the kitchen on the way back, the knife met your hand. You were going to open the box. It was easy, opening boxes always was. It was being careful that was the hard part, since you didn’t know what was inside something could break or be easily ripped or stabbed if you were too rough with it. Once the tape was sliced, you set the knife down and hurried to open the box. There was a letter on top and then a piece of paper covering whatever was below. Fumbling a bit, part of you wondered if you should open what was in it first before reading the letter. No, no you needed to slow down. You wanted answers. Picking up the piece of paper it was simple. No fancy font or anything, just plain typed black text.

‘Dear Ms. Morzzo,

It is a pleasure to welcome you to 50 blessings from us to you. Alternia is a tune, we must sing it together~ We are here to help you on your date tonight and those to come with our divine judgement.

Your goal of the date is to prove you would be a worthy match of your date! Our judge and jury will inform you later this evening once you’ve dropped your date off along with their briefcase at 819th Barker st, how well you’ve done and how you can improve for next time! We are sure you will do great and your date will simply be quite the hit!

We’ve included something fancy you should wear tonight and recommend you bring a weapon, you never know what kind of weirdos could be out there and your safety is always our top priority!

We will be in touch with you soon!!

— Blessed be is 50 Blessings’

This…This was no date. This was a call to murder, there was no other way to look at it. They were the judge and jury, and they wanted you to be their executioner. It sent shivers down your spine. Killing someone is something everyone thought of now and again, and some trolls did it. You were not some trolls. You didn’t want to kill anyone, there was no thrill of it for you even if the thought sent tingles to your fingertips and toes. It was tempting though almost enough so to actually go and do it. To see if the rush was real. But you had already done more than enough.

Far too much. It should have been you. You. Not her. Thoughts like this haunted you late in the morning, when you stood on the edge of your hivestem, watching the cars below wondering if you should take a walk and join them.

It would be meaningless though, whatever waiting for you beyond this wouldn’t be her. You didn’t care really what was past this.There was no point to living for you and no point to dying either. So you just muddled, meaningless, lost and stuck in an endless loop of empty.

There was no point even musing upon this either. Setting down the sheet of paper, you perhaps would take the time to inform someone later, probably not. The paper would likely sit on the table until you had the energy to throw it away. Maybe you would go waste another few hours with netflix, just to have something to do. It wasn’t like the shows interested you, they just kept you busy. Before turning back your eye had managed to catch the other thing in the box. Oh right, there was that as well. Well, now that you’ve read your call to murder you might as well look.

Lifting the paper, whatever it was was soft against your fingers. You could see it more than feel it. Cushioning softness of feathers. What was this? Turning and turning the strange ball of feathers you finally found what it was you were looking for. A mask. It felt like you couldn’t breath. Heat crawled out of under the collar of your jacket, creeping and biting its way up your neck and face. Your fingertips for a moment felt the soft plush of the feathers under them and your legs just a bit cold from your air conditioning. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t understand, but it clicked somewhere in the back of your mind where you couldn’t reach. Oh Mothergrub.

You would do it. You had to. You didn’t feel like there could have been any other choice in your mind. After the biting heat melted you could feel the icy air hit your face and electricity danced from your fingertips. You should drop it, get away from it far away. Yet you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. It felt almost meant for you, something deep inside you said it felt right. It would be your shield, it would make everything better and you could feel alive again. Okay. You would go for them. See if the rush was real. This one thing had tipped the scale, it had been the winning point for them. They had got you and you would do what they asked. All because of a chicken mask. But only because for a moment, just for a moment. In a deep ringing voice from somewhere you couldn’t name, it spoke.

‘There’s the Birdie’

(A giant thanks to Alternyans who helped make this happen with their wonderful art!)

#wow an idea of what doarch might look like???#amazing #im a genius thank u #doarch backstory #doarch things #d-chapter-3 #ic #doarch speaks #i wrote 6 pages so heads up #it long #//suicidal thoughts #//self harm #my writing

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hubertspala · 7 years

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INKTOBER2017 #7 - The Fisherbot

Today one was a first hard one to draw. Not because of topic, scope or anything technical, but simply because I dedicate every Saturday to the Goddess of Laziness, to the glorious Muse of Numbing Entertainment. When I work hard every other day, reading, drawing, working, writing and more, for the safety of my mind and body I decided some time ago that I need at least one day in a week to completely unwind, to binge cartoons, watch movies, play games, eat trash food and not get out of my pajamas. Saturdays are for this. But Inktober is a daily challenge. It requires you to draw an ink picture every day. Gosh. So against my habit, fighting with the terrible desire to Continue Being Lazy I popped my sketchbook up, got to my pen brushes and rather haphazardly drew a wonky little robot with a fish as a brain, that inexplicably goes fishing. Because hey, why not. Also, it might be blood in his tanks. Or strawberry juice. Depending on what rating I'd like to attach to this creation, let's keep it E for now and we can figure out R18 later. Phew, my brain is so dead.

Also, I need your help! It’s simple - drawing 2-3 things a day (sometimes 4-5) rapidly ehxaust my creative brain-storage. SO if you have a simple idea pitch for me to draw, just send it to me via the Ask as a single sentence! Like this:

“Little troll with a leaf for an umbrella, protecting a snail”

Or, of course:

“Hargah, the dark insect god of the giant centipedes of Ohryx, who manifest as boiling globules of levitating ichor, shifting into sinous appendages as it wails with its many oozing maws”

#2017 #inktober #inktober2017 #inks #robot #bot #fisherman #fish

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michaelmyersmalewife · 5 years

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LEVIATHAN | 9. The Mass Awakening | MASTERLIST

words: 8k+

A/N: im back!! with an extra long chapter lmao (and i tried to fit as much as i could without this chapter becoming a novel in and of itself ;v; ); anyway this is more of an interlude than an actual chapter but id pay attention to certain sections in this one, they're important (and kudos to the ones that are gonna get it i hope i executed it well enough jsgksf)

you can also support this fic on wattpad & ao3

Sedona, Arizona - Monarch Outpost 55 - Titanus Scylla

Alan drove down the winding road through the canyon that lead to the oil fields, admiring the view as he always did.

For forty years, he'd been taking this same drive, and for forty years he still found something to love about it. He remembered his father bringing him here, telling him that the canyon's stone, carved by mother nature's hands herself, had existed since the Permian period. And he remembered taking his kids, playing in one of the nearby creeks and looking for fossilized shells from a land lost to time. Alan has always been a paleontologist at heart, but that wasn't as reliable a job as working at the pipeline.

When he reached the field, pulling his truck around the small metal shed that passed for an office, he stepped out into the Arizona heat. He stood there for a moment, fingers hooked in the belt loops of his coveralls as he watched the rig's pumpjacks bobbing up and down like the drinking bird toy he had as a kid. They were, of course, drinking oil rather than water - or as his daughter Lucy liked to put it, "sucking the earth's blood".

There were other workers around, and about half a mile away he saw the government guys that hung around the area running around like chickens without heads. He squinted, they weren't usually this busy. A couple years back, they had taken some land near the fields, the reason being some sort of bio-hazard. It didn't matter to him, just so long as they didn't interfere with his work.

"Hey, Alan." Sawyer said, sticking his head out of the shed.

He nodded, clocking in.

"You get my text?" he asked.

"No, why?" Alan asked, pulling his phone out.

"It's your seismograph. Was goin' nuts not too long ago." he led him inside.

"Huh.." Alan hummed to himself. That thing was something he had helped his son, Evan, build nearly thirty years ago. It was mostly for fun, as his son had a knack for that sort of thing. Looking at it now, Sawyer was right. The usually flat line was now a mess of scribbles, as if there had just been an earthquake. As he watched, waves continuing to spike, he felt a rumble beneath his feet. The shed had also begun to rattle.

"You think it's one of the rigs?"

"I dunno, but I don't like it."

Alan stepped outside, looking at the field with a more critical gaze.

"I don't -"

The ground beneath him exploded, and something long and dark jutted out of it, arching over like a giant hook. He stepped back inside so hard he banged his arm against the door.

"Holy mother of.." Sawyer's voice trailed off.

Outside, more of those things were sticking up, jamming into the ground. Jointed, covered in bristle-like hairs the size of the shed, the earth jumped as the thing lifted itself up. With a metallic groan, the pumpjacks slid into the hole it left.

It.

He was barely aware that he and Sawyer were about twenty feet away from the pit it was pulling itself out of. He felt paralyzed, his mind overwhelmed by a primal fear, an instinct coded deep within the brains of his ancestors when they were still prey to things like this. The giant spider legs rose hundreds of feet in the air, holding a bulbous body and a face full of squirming tentacles that hung below a pair of emotionless eyes. It was like a cuttlefish on stilts.

Lucy, Evan, he thought, picturing their faces.

"The goddamndest thing." Sawyer said in breathless disbelief.

It was the last thing he ever heard.

Munich, Germany - Monarch Outpost 67 - Titanus Methuselah

The cork sprung from the bottle with a loud pop, sailing across the meadow with the breeze.

"Don't litter, Hugo." Mila said, not looking away from her canvas.

He ignored her complaint as he took out various snacks from the cooler.

"It's biodegradable."

"Right," she said, looking at the mountain range ahead of her before going back and mixing more colors onto her palette. "Still littering."

With a roll of his eyes he poured the drink into two plastic cups, handing her one. Narrowing her eyes, she took it, taking a sip.

"This was where I grew up, you know." she said, pointing her paintbrush beyond the canvas. "See that mountain there?"

He didn't question the sudden change in subject, so instead he played along, glancing over at the mountain rising above the trees. The same one she was painting.

"What about it?" he asked, popping a cheese square into his mouth.

"My grandfather told me it wasn't always there, that there was a village instead. It was pretty average, you know, quaint. But," she stopped to take another sip of her drink. "They 'wasted the land', he'd say. That the river that ran through town and just down over there," she nodded to the clear blue stream that trickled not to far behind them. "Had turned brown, murky. You know why?"

Hugo chuckled, knowing where this was going. "Maybe. And what happened to this town?"

"No one knows. He says one day the village was gone, and that mountain was there."

"I see," he said, still waiting for the punchline. "How long ago was this?"

She shrugged. "Middle ages, maybe."

"Your grandfather must have been very old."

"My family's been here for centuries." she said, continuing with her painting. "But do you want to know one other thing about the legend?"

He leaned closer, listening halfheartedly.

"That anyone who litters will be gobbled up by the mountain troll that lives on its peak."

He rolled his eyes, taking a swig from his cup. She chucked to herself.

"Of course it was just some bedtime story made to scare me. But," she paused, staring at the mountain with an odd expression. "There were times when I could swear I heard something from that mountain. Like something sleeping."

Hugo said nothing, and neither did she as she knelt down and took a strawberry from the array of food placed on the picnic blanket he sat on.

"Probably just my imagination." she said.

Slowly, his eyes wandered past her, past her canvas, and somewhere behind her. She tilted her head to the side as she saw his eyes widen.

"Are you alright?"

"Th-The - The mountain.." he pointed a shaky finger over her shoulder. She crossed her arms.

"So you're mocking me now?"

"N-No, the mountain, it -" he didn't finish his thought before he shot up from his seat, a scream gradually growing in volume leaving his mouth as he ran back down the trail they came from. It was so sudden it left her uneasy.

"Aren't you taking this a little too far?" she called after him.

But then she felt the earth shift below her.

Turning around, she saw that the mountain was now standing up on four thick legs. It had a stout face like a bulldog but jutting from its head were a pair of horns like a bull. And as she watched, it put one lumbering limb forward, and then another. The patch of forest that sprouted from its rocky back shivered with each step.

Mila didn't scream, but her heart was beating in her ears just as loudly. The thing was about a kilometer away at least, but she doubted it would notice her even if she tried drawing its attention.

Instead, she took one long chug from the champagne bottle and kept painting until the creature was out of sight.

Tingua Preserve, Brazil - Monarch Outpost 58 - Titanus Behemoth

The woman crawled through the hatch and into an access tunnel. Every alarm in the facility was blaring, and everyone was running for their lives.

Behemoth was awake.

He had been sleeping deep in a cave in the Tingua preserve not far from Rio de Janeiro. After the containment was set up, she had volunteered to stay on the team that oversaw the facility. It was an alright job. Behemoth was, to her, one of the more interesting titans. And when she could find the free time, Rio and its beaches were less than an hour away. Her job payed decently, she'd made some good friends, by all accounts the future looked bright.

But now, everything was changing.

She reached her destination, a panel on the wall of the tunnel. She did her job quickly, then continued down the tunnel, opened another panel, and dropped down into the room beyond. Mounted high in the cave, the room jutted out of the wall. And it was mostly transparent, giving her a good view of the titan below.

His legs were folded under him, his tusks curving above him. As she watched, he struggled against the containment field, trying to stand up. He looked like he was in pain.

"Sabine? Why didn't you just use the door?"

She turned and found of the techs - Erik - staring at her, his eyes full of bewilderment.

"I was checking the wiring in the access tunnel." she said. "The meter downstairs showed some resistance. It looked okay up here, though."

"You could've asked me."

"Yeah," she said, staring down at the titan. "But I wanted the view."

"Are you nuts? He's trying to break out like the others."

"I know." she said, voice void of emotion. "So what are you still up here for?"

"Backup. Dr. Singh has us on standby to use the kill switch."

Behemoth roared, almost as if he could hear and subsequently understand their conversation. The titan pushed up hard, swinging his head through the containment field and shredding the equipment that powered it with his tusks. The field vanished, and the floodlights overhead snapped on. Toward the front of the cave, dozens of security guards took their positions.

"Erik?" the voice came from the intercom. It was Dr. Singh.

"Yeah?"

"We've had negative results here, we're not sure why. Go ahead and enable the kill switch."

"Will do, doctor." he said, punching in a code and flipping up the cover. "Enabled."

After a short bout of silence, the doctor's voice rang out. "Do it."

Erik reached out flipped the switch. Nothing happened. He flipped it back, and then again. And again.

"N-Nothing's happening," he reported, trying not to sound nervous. He checked the diagnostics.

"There's no power!"

"No...there isn't." the Sleeper said.

Erik looked at her, eyes wide, then glanced at the hatch to the access tunnel. His confusion turned to anger. "You were in there, you cut the line to the kill switch - y-you traitor."

"Please, I was never with Monarch."

"Oh my god," he said, voice dropping to a whisper. "You're - You're one of -"

"Look at him!" she nodded toward Behemoth. "You think you have the right to just kill a god? He was here long before you were. You've seen the cave paintings of him in here. They're thousands of years old, and that's just after your people got here. This place's indigenous groups still have a name for him, you know - Mapinguary. You heard Dr. Russell. You have to let him go."

"You're insane - how long have you been working with her?"

"That's not something you need to know. If anything, you should be grateful. This planet's seas are dying, rainforests nearly gone, thousands of species exterminated. I'm only trying to help."

"You've killed us all." Erik said.

"..Maybe."

Below, Behemoth rose to his full height. Or at least his full height on four legs, as there was a running bet on the base about whether he could go bipedal or not. The Sleeper was in the "yes" camp. His tusks and shaggy hair made him look superficially like a mammoth, but he was really built more like a giant ground sloth. His limbs were longer in the front than they were in the back, and he rested on the knuckles of his paws with thick, sharp claws. The only way he could use those claws was to stand up on his stubbier hind limbs.

Behemoth leaned back, and his forelimbs came up from the floor. His tusks scraped across the ceiling, and the entire cave shook. He swatted at the soldiers firing rounds of bullets at his hide with his claws. It almost looked funny from a distance, like he was knocking over toy soldiers. She felt a little twinge of sympathy, but this was how it had to be. If the Controller asked her of this, then it had to be done.

"I was right." she said.

"About what?"

"Bipedal."

With a puzzled, fearful look, he climbed into the crawlspace she came from. It didn't matter. There was no way he could fix it, not in time at least.

Suddenly, a blue-white flame spilled toward him. As Behemoth turned away from the gunfire, the titan screamed. He was facing her now, and she could see his eyes. The eyes of a god. An angry god, whose sanctuary had been invaded, defiled.

The same fire spewed at him again, but this time she saw where it came from: a nozzle protruding from the ceiling. The Sleeper hummed to herself. She hadn't known about that. Behemoth saw it too, roaring as he lunged forward.

"Come on," she whispered. "You know what to do."

The ceiling of the cave was high, but as he stretched to his full height, his face was just a few feet away when his tusks smashed into the ceiling. Huge chunks of stone tore loose, followed by an explosion as the reservoir of napalm spilled to the floor.

"Sleeper to X Base, requesting immediate extraction." she spoke into a device she pulled from her pocket.

Behemoth turned back toward the cave's entrance, covered in flames. But the fire seemed to find no purchase on his fur, and soon enough it burned itself out. He didn't look hurt at all. The cave, however, was filling with fire, and debris from the ceiling were still falling. The observation room shook, wobbled and tore loose from the cave wall.

The Sleeper had one last sight of Behemoth, crashing through the barriers at the cave entrance.

Loch Ness, Scotland - Monarch Outpost 64 - Titanus Leviathan

Dr. Noe paced back and forth within the control room.

The Monarch alerts had just began pouring in, and at this point everyone was on edge. Everyone, it seemed, except for Dr. Reid. She sat comfortably at her desk, lukewarm mug of coffee in hand as she stared at her screen through a pair of a large glasses. He had no idea how she could remain so calm in such a dire situation, knowing that hundreds of fellow operatives were falling at the hands of titans - and possibly even terrorists. He looked over her shoulder at the screen, eyes darting between the fluctuating bioacoustics and the murky water just outside the room.

"Relax, even if the containment field fails we still have the blockade." Dr. Reid reassured him, leaning back in her chair as she took a swig of coffee.

"And where does that leave us? We wouldn't have the time to evacuate if she decides to attack the base once she's figured out she can't escape." he said, nervously running a hand through his short, black hair.

The outpost sat a couple kilometers underwater, situated on the side of a submerged rocky outcropping on one of the lake's cliffsides. Nothing much happened around there, as Leviathan (or "Nessie" as the world had unknowingly dubbed her) was usually dormant, unbothered by the traffic the lake saw each year. Which made Noe's job much easier on his overly cautious nature. His colleague, however, wasn't so concerned.

"She won't, she barely even notices us. Why would she think of attacking this place?"

"I..I guess you got a point."

"Besides, it's her getting out that we should be concerned with, and even then we got a backup plan for the backup plan."

"I dunno," he mused. "The lake's far from shallow, and the level of radiation at its deepest point is a little suspect."

She let out a tired chuckle. "God, have you been talking to Rick again?"

"Wh - No! I'm just saying we can never be too careful."

He was a little hesitant to admit that he did, in fact, somewhat buy into the hollow earth theory. Or at least Dr. Brooks' vision of it. It wouldn't be too out there. He was in charge of looking after the goddamn Loch Ness Monster after all. At this point he was ready to believe just about anything.

"Uh oh." Reid said in a steady tone, hiking her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

"'Uh oh' - what do you mean 'uh oh'?"

She gestured to the screen with her mug.

"Looks like 'ol Nessie isn't taking to the field so well."

Looking at the security feeds, Noe could barely make anything out - a long, paddle-shaped tail whipping about, kicking up mounds of lake muck into the water around her as she thrashed within the field, maybe a plesiosaur-like fin or two.

"What's got her all worked up? She was fine just a second ago." he said, getting increasingly nervous.

Reid shushed him, turning up the volume on the bioacoustic feed. The room quieted, only the sound of Leviathan's rapid heartbeat thudding through the walls. And something else.

"What is that?"

"Not sure. But it's not Leviathan."

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, trying to search for the source of the sound as the titan continued to struggle within the field.

"Uhhh, Reid?"

"What." she replied impatiently.

Hearing no answer, her eyes flicked up from the screen. "Spit it out, I don't have -"

Noe was pointing at something beyond the window, eyes wide. Looking up from her post, she saw that the struggling had stopped. As the dirtied water settled, she could see that the containment field was now empty.

"What the h -"

Noe let out a surprised shriek when a massive fin leisurely passed in front of the window. Leviathan made another pass at the base, her long neck bending as she peered inside with an indescribable expression. Slowly, he backed away from the glass. Reid was paralyzed at her desk. The titan let out a throaty grumble before turning away from the base with the flick of her tail. The tail made contact with the room, shaking it so roughly the lights flickered for a moment. But somehow they remained unscathed.

"Reid.." he gulped. "Blockades."

"Got it."

Across the lake, massive steel doors closed, damming off the lake from the sea. Leviathan wasn't going anywhere.

"How is she?"

"Looks like she's on the move, but..she's not trying to leave."

"Th - That's good, right?"

"Hold on, I'm picking something else up. Sending a probe."

Both of their eyes were trained on the drone's feed as it cut through murky clouds the titan had left, the floodlights illuminating the dark water. It was slow-moving, and Noe didn't doubt that they had long lost Leviathan's trail.

"Anything?"

"I'm still getting her radiation signature. Bioacoustics too but she's on edge. Like she's looking for something."

After what felt like forever, the probe came across a sudden dive in the lake floor. The radiation readings spiked. Reid raised her brows.

"Well," she said, taking a sip of her - now cold - coffee. "That's new."

"What is?"

"Was that cavity always like that?"

Soon enough, Noe could see what she was referring to. They had followed Leviathan to the deepest part of the lake, where the radiation was far more prominent anywhere else. But this was different. It was an underwater tunnel, going down - much, much deeper than anything their scanners had picked up. It was almost like something had carved it out themselves. Reid led the probe through the pathway, jolting when its speed increased as something like a vacuum pulled it under.

"Jesus -!"

"Damn, guess I owe Stanton those twenty bucks."

Noe gave her a puzzled look before realizing what she was talking about. The screen in front of them was showing a sudden increase in O2, and CO2 - an air pocket.

"You're kidding."

An incredulous smile grew on Reid's face as the probe's camera was picking up a dim, yellow-orange light. But the closer it got to the source, more static appeared on the feed.

"Shit, radiation's already taking affect."

"Can you get closer?"

"Dunno. I can try." she said with a shrug.

As the probe's camera breached the surface of the water, the floodlights barely illuminated what looked like a large cave. And on its shore was Leviathan, slowly turning to face the small probe that bobbed on the water's surface. Noe felt a chill down his spine.

The titan bared her teeth in a snarl, and in one swift movement Leviathan's tail whipped toward the probe, and with that the feed cut off.

"Aaand she's gone." Reid drawled.

After a long bout of stunned silence, Noe began pacing again. About a million thoughts were running through his mind but only one managed to make it past his mouth.

"What the hell are we gonna tell Castle Bravo?!"

Indian Ocean - Monarch Outpost 25 - Titanus Kraken

In his office beneath the sea, Dr. Ikande lay on his cot and watched the surface of the water ripple above him.

He had tried to take a nap - he hadn't slept in nearly a day - but sleep eluded him. He was too troubled. With the extremist attack in Yunnan to Dr. Russell's betrayal, it was too much to process. He knew her, his grad school dissertation had been based on some of her early work. He even had the privilege to meet her at a conference. It was there she recruited him for Monarch. And the fact that she had snapped like that was almost too hard to believe. Two titans were already on the loose because of her, and the running rumor was that she would try to release more.

He silently thanked himself that this underwater containment facility was probably one of the safest, simply from how far away it was from land. Anything that approached it would be noticed with ease. But that hadn't stopped him from worrying, of course.

He let the nap go, might as well get back to work.

He made his way out of the habitable part of the base - the living quarters, the control room, the labs - which were all relatively close to the surface. He kept walking until he came to an elevator - the one that took you straight down to the observatory, to Kraken.

They had discovered the sleeping titan on a seamount in relatively shallow water, curled around the remains of a nuclear sub that had been missing for decades. Monarch had ended up building the facility around him, but he was in such a deep hibernation he didn't seem to notice it at all. In the time since then they had learned quite a bit about him. Numerous x-rays, DNA analysis, and sonar scans had built a picture of what he must be like. His central brain was huge, far larger than it needed to be to control his body. And he had dozens of smaller brains associated with his limbs. Along with that, he had multiple hearts. There was no doubt in Ikande's mind that the creature held a certain amount of intelligence, possibly enough to rival a cephalopod's. Or a human's.

But unlike his octopoid cousins, his head was protected by a dense, curving shell not unlike a nautilus'. And his camouflage abilities were far superior to any of his smaller relatives. DNA suggested he could also change the color, pattern - even texture - of his skin and shell. When they found him he was nearly invisible, only being able to pinpoint his location by his radiation signature and bioacoustic emissions. But one of his more fascinating features - at least, in his opinion - was his ability to regenerate limbs, or virtually any part of his body.

As the elevator came to a stop, Ikande stepped out. One of the techs, Dr. Harris, looked up from her post and gave him a wave. Otherwise, the lab was empty.

He walked up to the window, and just outside lay one of Kraken's eyes. It was closed, and they had been closed for god know's how long. Dr. Jin, their resident paleobiologist, theorized he was in the middle of a sleep cycle that might last another decade at least. Unless he was threatened, of course.

They had taken great care to make him as comfortable as possible.

"Anything new?" he asked.

Harris shook her head. "Same as always. Bodily functions are normal, but at fairly low levels. How's topside? Any more titans on the run?"

"If there has, we haven't been informed. I almost feel slighted, why wouldn't our friend here be invited to the party?"

"Don't even say that." she replied, frowning. She leaned closer to the screen in front of her.

"What?"

"Nothing, I guess." she shrugged. "There was a little spike, but it went right back down."

Suddenly, the com light blinked on. He answered it.

"Ikande here."

"Doc? It's Teresa. We just got a flood of reports, titans have been released in at least four other outposts. Simultaneously."

"Released? By who, those extremists?"

"It's unclear. Things are kinda chaotic at the moment."

"'Course they are." he muttered, looking back at Harris, whose brows were deeply furrowed in confusion. "What is it, is he waking up?" he demanded.

If he was, at least the containment field still functioned. At least it was supposed to, there was no way to be certain, really. As much as it hurt him, their best bet was to use the kill switch. He was determined it wouldn't come to that.

"No, the opposite." she said. "His hearts are shutting down...he's dying."

"What - why?"

"No idea. It's like he's having an allergic reaction or something. Everything's dropping off, even his radiation signature."

Ikande stared at Kraken's lidded eye, trying to decide how he felt. The titan was put under his charge, and he had failed it. He knew how many Monarch scientists - Serizawa, Emma, Chen - felt about them. And even now he felt a twinge of sympathy for them. But on the other hand, if he died naturally, he wouldn't have to pull the kill switch.

"I..I don't understand." Harris whispered as she continued to watch the titan's vitals plummet.

"Call it in," he said. "Tell Castle Bravo we'll be sending them our data. Maybe whatever happened to -"

His mind stopped, voice catching in his throat. Kraken's eye was open, and it was staring right at him.

"Harris.." he said slowly. "Turn on the containment field."

"D-Done." she said. "But doc, I'm still getting nothing. All our scanners, they say he's dead."

"His eye just opened!"

"Maybe some postmortem reaction -" but then her voice broke off too.

One of Kraken's tentacles was suddenly right at the glass, pushing against the containment field - no, pushing through it. Effortlessly.

"Harris.." he said urgently.

"Th-The field, it only works on living titans," she said, getting up from her station so fast she knocked over the coffee cup that sat on her desk.

Ikande's skin prickled with goosebumps, suddenly feeling very cold as he pieced it all together. Shit.

The tentacle was already reaching for them as he sprung for the kill switch. But with a force greater than he ever could've anticipated, the pane of glass shattered as gallons of water poured into the room. Along with a river of limbs. He tried to swim toward the surface, desperately trying to reach the elevator but Kraken was far faster, grabbing the entire segment of the base and dragging it down to the depths.

Karnak, Egypt - Monarch Outpost 74 - Sekhmet

Chief officer Nadia Zaahir drummed her finger against the desk.

Surrounded by techs that busied themselves with their work, she was restless at the sudden gap in action. It wasn't that she was bored, but looking at the thing in the facility filled her with unease. The big cat in the heart of the temple had been sleeping like a baby for the past couple decades, but it wasn't until earlier that day that they were forced to use the emergency sedatives under Monarch's orders. As the hours passed, and the alerts poured in, it became startlingly clear as to why. At least they had taken affect, the titan's vitals holding steady. But in the blink of an eye something seemed to snap her out of the medicated haze.

With another rumble that shook the temple and its surrounding facility, everyone's panic only increased.

"What's going on? What woke her up" she asked one of the techs - Ibarra, if she remembered correctly.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, everything's working fine." she said. "It's like something told her to wake up."

Zaahir spoke into her earpiece. "Squads, you see anything?"

The aircraft that hovered around the facility reported negative, and the scanners remained empty. The entire desert was quiet.

"It's Sekhmet." Dr. Halla said. "The sedatives, weren't they enough?"

"Containment field?" Zaahir said.

"On it." Ibarra said, switching it on with the flick of her wrist.

In that moment, the giant feline roared - yawned? - as saber-like teeth unsheathed like swords the size of a car. The titan struggled against the field, quickly rousing herself from hundreds of years of sleep. The coarse fur on her back raised itself in alarm, eyes darting around the temple at the scrambling security personnel below.

"What the hell's going on now?" Zaahir shouted.

"She wasn't happy about that," Ibarra said. "And I'm getting something else, something on the bioacoustics monitor."

"Is it her?"

"Yes, and no. Her heartbeat's definitely increasing but I'm getting something else. It's out of our range but just barely detectable."

"Uhh, Zaahir?" Ibarra interrupted.

"What?"

She motioned toward the temple. Behind the glass, Sekhmet looked ready to pounce, repeatedly ramming herself against the field and yowling in frustration.

Zaahir spoke into the intercom. "All security personnel, ready your weapons."

"The field's collapsing," Halla said, nervous.

Outside, the containment field flickered the more she rammed into it. As if figuring out it wouldn't budge, she clawed at it, her massive claws sinking into the earth through the field and uprooting it from the temple.

"Shit, shit - all personnel, evacuate immediately." Zaahir shouted into the intercom.

The moment the words left her mouth, the field was torn apart, a rumble shaking the entire temple. Zaahir didn't have to tell them to get out before they all began scrambling for the exit.

As they ran through the hall of the facility, the ceiling was caving in on itself, pieces of stone falling all around them. Dozens of Monarch operatives were crowding the halls as well, pushing past each other for the exit as the big cat was undoubtedly ready to break out at any moment.

Looking behind her, she lost Ibarra and Halla in the stampede. Above the heads that sped past her, she found a hand flailing in the air. With a grunt, she pushed back, tugging up the tech by her arm before she was trampled.

The lights in the facility had already begun to flicker, the deep rumbling behind them getting louder before exploding altogether, sending debris flying their way. Everyone hit the floor like dominoes, and as Zaahir finally came to, she found many that had been similarly flattened. Chunks of wall and ceiling had crushed a good portion of the people in the hall, but that wasn't what caught her attention.

Eyes wandering to what remained of the containment field, Sekhmet was slowly rising to her feet. Zaahir was only a meter or two away from the exit when Ibarra started screaming next to her.

Immediately, she covered her mouth, shushing her as the cat's eyes zeroed in on them. Ibarra's leg was swallowed by a chunk of stone, and it didn't look like she could walk any time soon. So she stayed still. Not moving, her breath was caught in her throat as the creature's eyes assessed her form through the ruins. Not a creature, she thought. A god.

In her eyes, Zaahir didn't see the malice she had expected to find. Instead, it was something tired, irritated at most. The titan turned away, tail swishing behind her as she lowered her body, coiling to pounce.

Frantic, she pushed the stone from Ibarra's leg, the other biting down so hard on her lip to hold in the pain that a drop of blood dribbled down her chin. It was broken, a splinter of bone jutting out from skin, and she was bleeding pretty badly. Not wasting any time, Zaahir lifted her in both arms, running out of the ruined outpost as fast as her legs could carry her.

Outside, wind and sand whipped around them as one side of the remaining temple suddenly burst into nothing but crumbling stone. As they both scrambled through the burning sand, they could see the cause of the sudden explosion - Sekhmet, her matted fur flapping wildly as she shook herself free of the debris. Zaahir turned and stared.

She definitely resembled something like a smilodon - a slightly hunched back with a scruffy, mane-like crown circling her neck and fading down her back, long claws poking out from heavy-looking paws, a long whip-like tail with a thick wisp of fur at its tip. And of course, her two long canines. But her fur was far from any of her native cousins. Spots and stripes melded together like a natural camouflage, her sand-colored fur blending into the environment around her. Standing at her full height, nearly dwarfing the temple that had been built for her, she looked like a sphinx statue come to life.

The cat looked down at her feet, a confused hum building in her throat. Parts of the facility were still somehow intact, almost like the titan was trying to be careful. Nevertheless, survivors were scrambling from the building, screaming and tripping over one another in sheer panic. Sekhmet watched them like mice, and with a low careless sweep of her tail she knocked over at least a dozen people.

Just then, a squad of Ospreys flew over their heads, ready to unload what they had on the titan. But before they could even focus on her form, Sekhmet's ears flattened, hissing at the flying objects before pouncing on one. The rounds that landed didn't seem to bother her at all, but it definitely pissed her off. With an earth-shaking growl, she swatted an Osprey, easily knocking it out of the air like a fly. The barrage only continued, but it didn't last long as Sekhmet's claws shredded the aircraft with ease, splitting another in half with her teeth. Tired of the unwelcoming welcome party, she bounded away into the desert - straight toward Luxor. The remaining Osprey followed her trail.

Ibarra passed out in her arms before she could flag down an emergency evac.

Jebel Barkal, Sudan - Monarch Outpost 75 - Titanus Mokele-Mbembe

The ground twitched beneath Sergeant Carole Deschene's feet.

She almost didn't notice, but then she saw that nearly everyone in the control room was looking around, puzzled. Then the floor lurched, and everyone began to scream.

"Satellites?" she snapped.

"I've got nothing." one of the techs - Larson - said.

"Squads," Deschene spoke into her headset. "What are you seeing out there?"

None of the helicopters they had sent out had seen anything approach the outpost from the air, nor had they seen anyone on the ground. Nothing on any of their radars, either. The desert was quiet.

"It's M&M," Dr. Keller said. "He's moving."

"Hit the kill switch." Deschene said.

He shook his head. "We still have the containment field."

"Way ahead of you." Larson said, turning on the field.

In that moment, the floor kicked up hard, overturning tables, sending people and equipment into the air.

"What the hell's going on now?" Deschene shouted.

"Radiation levels are rising," Keller said. "And I'm getting something on the bioacoustics monitor."

"Mokele?"

"Yep. His heartbeat's speeding up. But there's something else - something more distant."

"Sir, he's pushing against the field." Larson interrupted.

Deschene switched on the radio. "I want all choppers back here, now. Recon units, you too - be ready to fight."

"He can't get through the field," Keller reassured her. "He can push all day but that thing won't budge. Yunnan was sabotaged, ours is still intact."

"Well, I call bullshit. He's trying to break out - you know what you have to do, and if you don't, I will."

"Sergeant, these creatures -"

Suddenly, the lights dimmed.

"Jesus.." Larson muttered.

"What?" Deschene snapped.

"The containment field, it just overloaded."

"Evacuate the base. Now." Deschene demanded, pushing past Keller and bolting toward the kill switch.

It was only a few feet away before the entire building flipped. Flailing through the air, she hit a wall so hard she swore her lungs would tumble out. She came to with the taste of blood on her tongue, the smell of something burning, and a sound like a rockslide that just wouldn't quit.

Bodies littered what used to be the containment facility, and the whole place was still shuddering. The power was dead, but light poured in through cracks in the metal ceiling.

As she rose to her feet, the room tilted again, slower this time, until it steadied itself. She was only a meter or two away from the exit. But as she made her way towards it, the door burst open with sand and debris pouring inside. The facility was sinking.

"Everybody out!" she called.

Keller was clearly dead, half-swallowed by the sand that had begun to fill the room. Larson was still moving, but dazed. Blood leaked from an ugly gash in her temple. Not wasting any time, she ran to her, throwing her arm around her shoulder as she lifted her out of the room.

Outside, the once level ground was now sloping down into a cavity in the earth. As they both scrambled up the mound of sand that was quickly forming above them, the building dropped another few feet, burying the door. Deschene turned and stared.

It was like watching a plant sprout from dirt, Mokele-Mbembe emerging from beneath one of the pyramids that surrounded the facility. Most of the outpost was still somehow intact. Monarch personnel were scrambling from the building, screaming and running with their arms flailing in fear.

The titan's back emerged first, pebbled like most lizard's hide. But then enormous five-clawed limbs pulled at the edge of the pit he created, and a long curved horn jutted out like a knife from the sand, followed quickly by his head. He looked like somewhat of an earless elephant, except his tusks turned down rather than up. His tail uncoiled like a snake, it was twice as long as his body. Then his trunk flared out, trumpeting an awful noise as if announcing his own arrival.

An Osprey whizzed over their heads, and then another, shooting out rounds of ammunition at the titan. Deschene looked back in time to see one of them hit Mokele on his back, but it didn't seem to bother him at all. Still, he whipped his trunk about, like swatting flies. In seconds he had knocked over dozens of people, taking out at least one Osprey in the process. As he stepped out of the pit, lurching forward on four strong legs, his tail sliced through a pyramid.

This world never belonged to us, she thought. Now they've come to take it back.

Skull Island - Monarch Outpost 33 - Titanus Kong

Alone. Quiet. Peaceful.

Kong sat on the mountain ridge, gazing upon his territory. The water around him glimmered with the rising sunlight, the waves crashing on the shores below. The grasslands and the jungles between the mountains were all hushed in the mellow morning. Creatures chittered to themselves as all began to rise. He scratched the space along his ribs, feeling the first rays of sunlight warm his fur. The last of his most recent wounds were already beginning to heal, and for the first time in a while he felt at ease.

Once the sun had reached its peak, he climbed down from the ridge, walking down his old paths, to the places where the world of night and day crossed into twilight - the hollows where the crawlers lived. He found that they were quiet too, their scents faint and old. He did not feel the rumble of their burrowing, so he went from valley to valley, searching. Maybe they had already made their way above ground to hunt.

He passed by the little ones that spoke to him in voices like wind, but they hadn't seen sign of the crawlers either.

Kong huffed, returning to his ridge and watched the colors of the sky fade from blue to orange to red, eventually fading to a deep purple. The sun burned behind the clouds until it too started to vanish, the moon rising in its wake. But there was something else in the evening breeze, something from a distant place - a place he did not know.

That was when he heard the call.

He had heard calls before. Not from the enemies who had slain his parents - the crawlers. Others somehow more like him in ways he couldn't explain. When he was young, he did not hear them often, but in recent seasons the calls were more frequent. Once he had heard one very near - too near - the island. His island. But it had wanted nothing of him, so he did not care.

But this one wanted something. Wanted him to leave his island. To hunt with it.

And from that call he heard responses. Dozens of them.

For decades upon decades, each season had been the same. The rains came and went, the island's subjects lived and died. And he went on as always. But something had changed now, made him restless, like an itch he couldn't scratch. It made him a little angry. He knew change was good, that was the way of nature. But this change wasn't good, wasn't right.

Let them hunt, he thought. He did not care about their islands, their kingdoms. Best they did not come after his.

But then he felt a familiar rumble in the stone beneath him, and his anger grew stronger. The crawlers had heard the call too, and they were waking.

Alone. Quiet. Peaceful. All of that was over.

With an irritated chuff, Kong began to hunt.

Yunnan Rainforest, China - Cocoon Site - Titanus Mosura

Dr. Houston Brooks woke up to a humid, misty morning in the Yunnan Province's highlands. Taking a science team and a squad of soldiers with him, they drove down to the waterfall.

The storm continued to roll above them, high winds bending the tops of the trees. Rain thundered down in nearly solid sheets, and he nervously gripped the radio in his hand. There had been another titan released - Rodan. And now all hell was breaking loose. They had lost contact with Monarch HQ, and all outside communications were sketchy as hell.

By the time they reached the camp, the road was close to being a river. As he pushed his way into the command tent, Brooks was met with chaos. He pushed through the rabble to Dr. Gillian, who stood hunched over a radio.

"Castle Bravo? This is containment team Mosura, do you read?" she shouted into the radio. She looked worried.

"Anything?" he asked.

"No, sir, we've been completely cut off." she yelled over the cacophony. "We've been trying for hours but we haven't been able to make contact with the Argo, Castle Bravo, and the other containment sites."

"Which ones?"

"All of them." Brooks hadn't known Gill for being easily spooked, but hearing the fear in her voice gave him a chill. "Angkor Wat, Skull Island, Stone Mountain - all the titans, they're escaping."

Gill played back the last transmissions they had received from the other outposts: Behemoth shattering buildings in Rio de Janeiro, Methuselah stomping through Munich, Scylla stalking through Phoenix - among dozens of others.

"Jesus.." he murmured.

Only one monitor was different - Monster Zero, the three-headed dragon, sitting atop a volcano in Isla de Mara. They were roaring. And then something clicked in Brooks' mind.

"It's him," he said. "He's the one doing this. They're all responding to his call."

Out of nowhere, the power within the tent flickered for a moment, then fading out altogether. He turned to Gill.

"Where's Dr. Ling?"

_____

Ling stood before the waterfall, staring through the glistening curtain of water at Mothra's cocooned form within. Feeling her presence.

From the moment she arrived at the site she had not informed her superiors of everything she knew. She felt a little bad about it, but there were simply some things she could not explain with words. If she were being honest, she wasn't sure of all the facts herself. Only what her mother and aunt told her, and her grandmother and her great-aunt. The stories they had passed to her and her sister were not collected from their culture, but instead passed down from an endless line of mothers and daughters.

We're connected to her, she'd been taught. Connected for numberless generations.

She had wondered if it was true. How much of her matriline's mythology was real, and how much was mere fantasy created by time? Her sister had always been one to easily believe such things, but Ling needed more proof than what was essentially a long game of telephone.

But there was no denying that Mothra was real, she could never deny that. She had learned of her existence at a very young age, and not just from stories. Firsthand. It was so long ago, and it was so strange that sometimes she thought she had dreamed it. But the connection was tangible. She'd felt it then, and she felt it now, growing ever stronger.

In the past couple hours, something had changed. In the cocoon, Mothra shivered, as if she felt a jolt of some sort. All scanners within the camp confirmed that her metamorphosis had quickened in response.

In the back of her mind, Ling felt a presence pushing through. She let her in.

In an instant, she was met with a flurry of images - lightning, fire, death, the sea, light. It took all of her concentration not to fall unconscious right there, but her lineage had prepared her for this moment. But unlike the stories she had been told, she was alone. Dr. Ilene Chen was half-way across the world, but Ling couldn't fail the sleeping goddess, not now.

As the typhoon continued to swell overhead, she stood in the rain, ignoring the chill - listening, urging Mothra to hurry toward her second birth.

_____

Gill had known where Ling was, although it wasn't hard to guess. Since arriving at the site she was almost always at Mothra's side. Running out into the rain, Brooks following close behind, they found her kneeling with her backs to them. Rain pelted her from all sides, and her coat was more than soaked. And yet she remained as still as a statue.

"Dr. Ling?" she shouted, trying to cut through the howling wind. "We've lost contact with Monarch!"

She didn't turn around.

For a brief moment, the rain slackened, winds dying down to a harsh whistle. Above, the clouds seemed to part, and somewhere beyond the treeline creatures of all sort began to stir with unrest. Or in worship. A trail of what looked like fireflies began pouring from the jungle and the roof of the grotto that held the waterfall, flickering in tune to a rhythm Gill couldn't hear. And the cocoon flickered too, rippling, glowing with bioluminescence. Tears began to form in the fabric of the chrysalis, the fireflies dancing around it like a thousand tiny supplicants.

But as they passed before Gill's eyes, she could see that they weren't fireflies at all - but rather hundreds of bioluminescent moths. And they were all converging around Mothra's cocoon, almost as if they were assisting her entrance like minuscule handmaidens. A tiny smile grew on her face as they fluttered past her, watching in awe.

"Dr. Ling?" Gill said as she got closer to the woman.

Over the sound of the waterfall and Mothra's increasing thrumming, she heard a voice. It was soft, faint, and it almost sounded like someone singing. It was Ling. As she knelt before the cocoon, hands clasped together, a stream of words in a language she didn't understand streamed from her mouth. Though Gill didn't know the words, it almost sounded like a prayer, a plea.

In that moment, the cocoon split, one long insectile leg stretching out. Ling's singing became louder, more passionate.

Everyone in the camp was outside now, bathed in the light that encompassed the waterfall, watching in wonder at the goddess' rebirth. Despite knowing that she should feel afraid at the thought of another titan breaking free, there was something different about this one. Something more important.

From one second to the next, a head slowly broke through the curtain of water, more legs landing on the ground almost gracefully. Carefully.

Ling rose, lifting the hood of her coat as her gaze followed Mothra's rising form. As she sang, her words seemed to harmonize with the titan's own vocalizations, until they both seemed to be singing the same song. But much bigger and far more meaningful. Gill could only watch in reverence as the titan unfurled her wings, a wave of light surging from Mothra's body to its gossamer tips. Gill could almost feel her throat want to close up at the sight of it, instead taking a deep steady breath.

She was beautiful.

The other titans were free, and Mothra had heard their cries. Now it was her turn.

As Mothra stepped from the waterfall, looking down at the tiny beings all staring back up at her, Gill felt something stir in the back of her mind. Mothra leaned down, antennae twitching as she locked eyes with Ling. The doctor looked a little otherworldly in the blue light, and her expression was nothing short of reverential. Slowly, as if asking for permission, she outstretched her hand, placing it on a patch of the downy fuzz that covered the titan's head. But then Mothra's gaze went past her, towards Gill, and Ling's followed soon after.

Ling brought out another hand, gesturing to Gill. Confused, it took her a moment before she pointed a finger at herself, questioning.

"It's alright," she said. "She remembers you."

Remembers?

Gill nearly gasped. All those times back in the temple - where she would examine the pupating larva with Ling, Chen, and Emma - she would talk to it. She thought that maybe, it would comfort the larva, prepare it for the strange new world she would surely be born into. She never would've thought it'd have any impact. Sheepishly, Gill took Ling's hand, letting her guide it to rest on top of Mothra's head. It was soft, if not a little damp from the waterfall. Gill let out a breathless laugh.

Suddenly, one of Mothra's forelimbs raised itself, stopping just between Ling and Gill. Ling hoisted herself upon it, sitting on the rough chitin.

"Wh-What are you doing?"

"There's no other way to contact Monarch HQ, right?" once again, she extended a hand. "She knows how to help."

"I-I don't - um.." nervously, her head whipped around at Brooks. He looked just as clueless.

"Well?"

She knew there wasn't any time to waste, so with a giddy smile, Gill took her hand. Mothra lifted them closer to her head, allowing them to climb comfortably to the space just between her antennae. Jodie's not gonna believe this, she thought to herself.

With a loud, melodious cry, Mothra pushed herself off the ground and took flight.

#godzilla #godzilla king of the monsters #kotm #godzilla fanfic #leviathanfic

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