Tumgik
#the dungeon is alive
convexicalcrow · 8 months
Text
Hermittober Day 5 - Sand
what came before: day 1: frost - day 2: time - day 3: fortune - day 4: bound
-
Doc grumbled as he realised his compass was pointing at that cursed artifact location in Pearl's area. He wondered idly if Tango had fixed it or not yet. If he hadn't, well. This would be another wasted run.
He didn't exactly run up the stairs. Doc didn't really run per se in the dungeon. At times he did, when it was needed. But mostly he carefully picked his way through, aware of a need to not dawdle while also not caring enough to run through like a ravager in a museum gift shop. He was careful, methodical, his demeanor calm and focused in spite of any internal panic that might set in from time to time.
The berry bush hadn't regrown. Doc cursed it out too. The dungeon was feeling a little grumpy today, it seems. A lot of berries were not regrowing quick enough, or so Doc thought.
He sighed and threw the compass at the right location. It didn't go in. It sat on the sand, its needle spinning pointlessly around it. Hem ight have kicked it into the berry bush in annoyance.
"Goddamnit, Tango. Fix your stupid game, already!" Doc muttered as he picked it up, scratching himself on the berry bush as he did so. "Stupid bushes. Stupid compasses. Well. Might as well go find a ravager now, hmm? Nothing else to do at this point."
He didn't leave just yet though. He checked the compass one last time and threw it in a slightly different spot, and this time, the compass went in, and the dungeon boomed with ringing bells. Doc didn't have time to take in much else before the floor collapsed underneath his feet and he was falling through sand into a deep, dark pit that seemed to have no end.
-
He hit the ground with a hard thud, landing hard on his cybernetic arm. He heard a couple of awful crunches; he'd definitely damaged it somehow. And then, he felt sand falling on him, and he scrambled to his feet, trying to not get buried. He backed up until he was against some kind of solid wall. There was only a glimmer of light now, though his redstone eye could see just as well without it if he switched it to night vision mode.
"Man, this must be some troll right? Tango fixes my broken compass spot and turns it into a trap. How am I even meant to get out of here? I can't climb up that sand pile, it'll collapse under me! Hmm. I wonder if there's anything down here, though. Maybe Tango would be helpful here?"
Doc started looking around, but there wasn't much to find. Bare sandstone walls, an empty chest or two, some sticks, and a piece of coal. Well, at least he could make some torches. That was allowed, right? Doc didn't care about the rules at this point and set them around the room, lighting it up. It didn't help ease his sense of foreboding, but at least he could see better.
But now he could see some carvings on the back wall that hadn't shown up in his night vision as they'd needed the shadow cast from a torch to appear.
"Oh, do I have to do a puzzle, hey, Tango? Is that how I get out of here?"
There was no response, of course. Well, none save for what Doc could only describe as the dungeon laughing at him. A low, cackling kind of laugh that did sound a little like Tango, but also very much not. Doc scowled, but didn't let it get to him. Maybe if he just...
-
Doc didn't see the skulk veins closing in around him until it was too late. They had his legs, and pulled him down sharply, submerging him into the skulk until he was nothing. Doc didn't even have time to protest. But when he realised, he panicked.
-
Tango found him easily as he was writhing in the skulk, unable to escape. He didn't show his form, though. Instead, he travelled through the skulk to whisper in his ear as the hunger in his stomach roared.
"Don't you ever insult the dungeon, my dear Doc, or I will turn against you," Tango murmured.
Tango imagined Doc might have screamed at that point. He didn't know, not really, though. The skulk simply dissolved him and Doc respawned elsewhere, ready to die again to feed the hunger that was never satisfied.
16 notes · View notes
ruporas · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
dragon meat, you, and me
13K notes · View notes
erros429 · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
MARCILLE'S DESPERATION FOR FALIN THE ENTIRE TIME. TO THE POINT OF NEEDING TO BE HELD BACK SO SHE DOESN'T RUSH IN AND GET HERSELF KILLED. THINKING THAT FALIN, HER FALIN WOULD NEVER HURT HER. GOD.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THEN DEFENDING HER DURING AND AFTER FALIN IS MERCILESSLY KILLING PEOPLE IN FRONT OF THEM AND BEGGING THEM NOT TO KILL HER. GOD. SAPPHICS PORTRAY DEVOTION LIKE NO OTHER
12K notes · View notes
Text
Danny finds out hes a clone/ adopted, and instead of processing that like a normal person he decides, "Well its not like they can find me so imma mess with my bio parent(s) while venting my frustrations. Two birds with one stone."
Hence (hero or villian of your choice) begins receiving letters via untraceable magic of him telling them he's thier clone/son and just telling them about his day/past adventures.
Unfortunately most of his adventures are horrifying and the person is desperately scrambling to find thier dumb (possibly undead) child and rescue them.
It probably doesn't help that Danny only signs his name as Phantom and is careful not to give clues to his location.
5K notes · View notes
eviltext · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
the laios-proximity disgust meter
5K notes · View notes
annabellebuns · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
And their pet cat…
613 notes · View notes
keepin-it-on-the-d-l · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Everything stays, but it still changes.
1K notes · View notes
rocketbirdie · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
deranged picnic
800 notes · View notes
novikjpg · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
My beloved Christian malewife is soooo back.
1K notes · View notes
084392 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
its nice to feel wanted
2K notes · View notes
littlelightfish · 2 months
Text
Mr. & Mrs. Folke
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
318 notes · View notes
the-nothing-maker · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Home is where the heart is
(Alastiel is a vampire lord NPC from @luposlipaphobya's D&D campaign, Une Cour de Chair et de Charme!)
495 notes · View notes
ruporas · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media
your love returns in tragedy (ID in alt)
6K notes · View notes
nesperus · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
me and the besties !!
489 notes · View notes
senseearly · 28 days
Text
For a moment, imagine yourself in Mithrun's brother shoes.
Your brother - stronger, prettier, more charismatic, but also distrustful and disdainful of everyone especially you - is to be sent to the Canaries. It is the rule, it is the duty of all noble houses. But you know what goes on there, Mithrun knows what happens there. Yet you see him off, bidding a temporary farewell as you do, because someone from the House has to go and it won't be definitely you. Mithrun knows this, you know this. And you wonder, very briefly, if Mithrun hates you now more than he does already.
Your brother - powerful, agile, a good soldier just as he is as an heir, if he could only be an heir - suddenly disappears. The unit he belonged to suddenly disappeared. And you're speechless because - how? why? No one wants to answer you; they will instead try to bring back a body, they promise to you. But that is not what you want. You grieve for your brother. but your own family doesn't grieve with you. Wasn't Mithrun family too?
Then you found out: MIthrun is alive.
Your brother - now weak, despondent, his eyes always looking for something that is not here nor there - is to be sent home where people can take care of him. It is not your first choice, you want him home. But he is - sick. Not quite there. He needs someone who can look after him and you look at yourself - your gait, your constitution - and you know it can't be you. So, you follow the advice of your family and pour out all your resources to find him the best of healers and caretakers. You ask yourself, almost daily, if Mithrun would ever return to who he once was.
Your brother - strong, pretty, uninterested of anything and anyone else aside from what he calls 'the demon' - is now better. He can walk on his own now, eats without throwing up on himself. The color on his skin is back and the scars of his injuries have faded into thick bumps and discolored skin. But he still isn't quite there; still needs help and probably will for the rest of his life. And you can live with that. You can provide that. Just as long as he comes home.
But doesn't. Your brother - now a husk of his former self, and you hate thinking of him that way, but you can't help yourself, the Mithrun you knew is gone - runs straight back to the Canaries. His mission is not over, he says. He doesn't care how long it takes, he says. And you see him off, again, because someone from the House has to go and it still can't be you. Mithrun knows this, you know this, and you can't help but wish, very briefly, if things would've been different if you went instead of him.
267 notes · View notes
glorioustaxidermist · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
798 notes · View notes