#this is like. his little map tile thing... yeah

[you-get-the-gist]

Doing this for a D&D campaign and it got. a little too silly!!

[princessbrunette]

when did you know you loved me? pt.1 /4 ♡

for puppy!reader, being john booker routledge’s girlfriend meant asking random questions at random times. would you still love me if i was a worm? what would you do if someone tried to kidnap me? who would win in a fight between you and a shark?

what you loved about john b, was that he always had an answer. that was this thing — always having a solution, a plan A, plan B, it was all he knew, so he never had trouble thinking of ways to answer your innocent, inquisitive queries.

it was on a stroll through the neighbourhood, hand in hand when the question occurred to you. this was the first time you’d ever loved someone — so you wasn’t sure how it was supposed to work. sure, you’d said ‘i love you’ to eachother, many times — but you wasn’t sure if you could pinpoint the moment it happened. the moment you realised.

“i thought of a question to ask.” you swing his hand in your own as you walk carefully alongside him, careful not to trip on any loose tiles in the sidewalk like you’d done five minutes prior. you seem to have snapped him out of some thoughts, possibly a conundrum he was facing with the pogues or about some maps, but he seems happy to escape his thoughts — head snapping towards you with a small smile.

“yeah? shoot, pup.”

“when did you know you loved me?” you’re a little quieter today, perhaps timid to ask such a vulnerable question. as you ask he feels your eyes flicker up from your shoes to his hand, up his arm and then to his face. it wasn’t like you to be shy, not with him — which only filled his heart with more of that warm admiration.

“ohoho— that is a good question. one i actually, have an answer to.” he smirks, and you can’t help but grin, already feeling at ease. there was always a story with john b, it was never a simple answer.

“yeah?” you sound hopeful, staring up at his profile as you walk now, trusting him to guide you away from anything that could cause you to trip once more.

“uh-huh. i even remember what you were wearing that day.” he hums, enjoying the element of you having to draw it out of him, although he would have definitely have just told you anyway without any convincing.

“tell me!” you gasp with an elated giggle and he chuckles in response.

“okay, okay— but look, don’t expect anything crazy. it was uh… kind of a regular old moment? you know? like… you’re gonna be confused.” he nods as he gathers his thoughts. you come to a brick wall, one with chipped white paint, and pink flowers sprouting from the overgrown grass around it. you take the moment to let go of his hand and leap, clambering up to sit on top of the wall. instead of telling you to be careful like he usually might, he joins you — sitting side by side on the wall.

“okay.” you ready yourself.

“we’d maybe known eachother for…” he blows a puff of air from his cheeks as he thinks. “six weeks? you’d started coming to the chateau pretty regularly, kind of just showing up without an invite which i didn’t mind ‘cus you know, i was falling for you pretty fast.”

you smile, remembering what it was first like when you were getting to know john b.

“so… you’d fallen out of that tree. you remember? the one out the front, just… dropped right down from the branch. what you were doing up there, i don’t know, i mean i told you not to climb it, but there you were, climbing it anyway… and…” he rambles comically, gesturing you falling from the tree eliciting a small laugh from you, he trails off, thinking back on the moment with a softness to him. “you were wearing this cute little blue shirt and a skirt, and when i was patching you up i remember thinking how blue is like… definitely your colour.” he nods, and you find yourself mirroring his nod, so entranced in the way he speaks.

“anyway, uh — i was patching up your knee, and despite everything you still had your headphones over your ears. i gestured for you to take them off so, you know — i could ask if you’re okay, and uh…” he chuckles, shaking his head. “you said no. because your favourite song was still playing and you wanted to let it finish. yoooou and that damn walkman.” he shakes his head again in faux disappointment as you grin proudly, beginning to remember the day he spoke of.

only then he breaks out of his storytelling trance, turning his head to look at you from where he was staring ahead. “aaaand… yeah. love kinda just… happened? i know for a fact i knew in that moment that i was in love with you.” he finishes, his voice low and warm as he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. john b was never one to shy away from affection— he was a loverboy at heart and this only proved it. you bite your lip, feeling your nose get a little runny like you wanted to cry. noticing this, john b smirks, tilting his head a little.

“what, too sappy? didnt wanna make you cry…” he jokes, reaching over to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb over it like he was wiping the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“it would be a happy kind of cry… because you make me happy.” you’re lost for words, but you swallow down the lump and smile anyway, kicking your legs on the wall with glee.

“well that’s good. i definitely like making you happy.”

[koiiqqqq]

"OUT FOR A LATE NIGHT SNACK... BUT THE CASHIER SCANNED MY HEART"

➴ Cashier felix! x gn!Reader! ☢ None i think?, slight self cringe, indirect confession, crushing‹��

व्युत्पन्न♡ ─═┈CMNTS&RB=KISSEZ >3<┈═─

It honestly wasn't your fault that you always needed something for the convenience store at 12 pm every. Single. Day. It was the same time you got off work, plus the store is on the way back to your home.

Blame capitalism or something, The cute freckled boy who stands behind the register this late, was just a bonus...and maybe the actual reason.

Were you a simp for the cashier? Yes, but could you rightfully blame yourself with heart palpitations he causes everytime? Not really in your book.

Despite the self confidence possing you, you were yet to ask for his number. You were a frozen deer every time and he was the bright headlights.

You headed in the store, grabbing whatever bag of chips you laid your eyes on, walking up to the counter. "Uhm this and the mints behind you" you smiled at him, nerves thrumming. He smiled back " mhm just this?", gold on his wrists and stars of eyes. You nodded, with a loony style heart shaped pupils. taking out the cash.

"Thanks" You blabbed, he neared his eyes and wider smile. "of course!" How perfect can he get?! and quickly walked out, yet again freaking out. Not that you'd actually ask for awhile. A problem for your bank account, but sensible thinking was a large lacking in front of him.

the stars took place again as your shoes clanked against the tiles, entering the convenience store just like you did everyday by now.

Used interaction like a broken record player. But can't think of a complaint, if it was the only thing you were able to think of. You headed left, the store mapped out better than your house.

Grabbing whatever pack of noodles you saw. After the completion of the bulk you panicked and bought. Feet turned and moved to the blond, placing the pack on the conveyor belt.

He grew a smile, scanning the pack humming some tune to himself. You leaned unconsciously, cheeks rouge "a-also-o the-". Biting your tongue immediately in a physical cringe at the stutter. Does god hate you?

He chuckled deeply "mint gum, i remember" almost clutching his stomach, staring at you. You looked away, considering the chance of a hole appearing and sucking you up wasn't statistically that low.

"i guess—good you remember" you looked back in his way, rubbing your temples.

He stiffled a smirk "hard to forget the only person who comes this late" he said rather too teasing instead of the expected mockery for your ass? Was he flirting? Nah. That's too insane to think about, even for you.

You shrugged "maybe i keep coming for you?" In the same tone, crossing your arms. You weren't lying if the salvation wasn't obvious, Pushing a little closer on the counter.

He matched your moves, leaning closer as well, "really?". You widened your eyes but swallowed and nodded "yeah" in a tiny mewl.

You quickly took the money out, handing it to him. Fingers grazed, lingering longer then usual. You might get a heart disease by now with it's ruined state.

You took the bagged items, a paper slipped in, size of a bill. strange you always decline the receipt and he remembers. he turned to his shelves while you dashed out, heavens blessings with that lengthy reaction with your crush. Highschool teens would say so.

You reached to throw the receipt away, breath still frayed.

but met with a 10 digit number.

Oh god.

[theatrevelyan]

So since Map of Dreams is out it’s time to go batshit crazy with theorizing over music videos again.

Here’s some thoughts I had and/or things that jumped out to me while watching it.

- the designs are really cute, the song is really cute, I have no idea what the text on screen or the lyrics are saying because I don’t speak Chinese but this is such a vibe and I love it

- CXS in particular was super cute, especially at the end when he stumbled and LG came back for him 🥹 so cute, let’s not think about how that could be a metaphor for him dying and LG coming back in time to save him, yeah no they were just being cute right guys?🥹

- Xia Fei with his little crown omg too cute!!! Also he low-key seems to be having a thing for Qiao Ling? And her seemingly turning him down? I mean, again I have no idea what they are singing about, but all the cute pink hearts around him and their interactions in the MOD trailer seemed to hint at that?? I’d be so funny to see them actually interact in S3 in a silly dynamic like a one-sided crush like that lol. Let’s ignore how tragic they could spin it if they wanted to.

- LG looks really good in his mage fit! Also it’s interesting how LG and Liu Xiao are a mage and a wizard respectively! It’s a parallel yet with a slight nuance in their roles as mages, usually, are more instinctive magic users in stories while wizards have magic derived from their studies and understanding of the magic system. This make me think a lot! Like, is this hinting that LG while the more analytical of the trio is still going in blind when it comes to powers/time travel meanwhile LX has full understanding of how abilities work?? It would fit so well with LX being the big hidden mastermind and we do see LG winging it at times, not fully knowing what consequences will wait for them. I just find it really funny, though, that if I’m right, in LX’s eyes, extremely cautious and analytical LG is basically going “ah fuck it we ball!”

- Wait what about QL being a priest then? Priest in rpg usually get magic from a god… is Xixi the ‘god’ in this case? If she got her powers it might make sense

- And CXS being the chosen hero? Why? I mean he and LG are deuteragonists why is he the MC for this game? Is it because he’s the one that can actually go back in time? Am I reading too much into these classes for this fake rpg? Yeah probably

- Anyway, there is also the way LG and LX contrast each other’s palette wise: LG is predominantly in white and light blue while LX is in black and gray.

- Also, I never thought I’d say this, but thank you LX for bringing back Kitty Guang, Woof Xiaoshi and Bunny Ling, it was super cute

- Wait… are they collecting animal themed snacks? lol CXS is getting bones and QL is gathering carrots but I can’t make out what LG is getting? Also, THE KITY CLOUD!!! That’s too cute 🥹

- Dragon Vein is as cool as I thought he’d be.

- And we defeated the evil dragon by playing mahjong? I mean fitting given that Vein has ties with the mafia and gambling seems to be a thing in Bridon but I wonder if this has a deeper meaning. Mahjong is kinda complicated and I’ve never played it so I might be wrong but you win by pairing the titles together and scoring points, right? I’ve had this theory since S2, but I think that abilities come in pairs that complement each other, like the twins or our boys, so what if they win the game (saving CXS) by pairing the right abilities (the tiles) together. Just spitballing here but it’d be interesting to see!

- We are also definitely setting up QL vs XF, LG vs LX and CXS vs Vein. Maybe that’s why LG wasn’t able to to perma-kill Vein in Bridon, his match has always been LX, not Vein

Aaaaaaa I have so many thoughts, I can’t wait for S3!

[lilmissasap]

agape- nicholas britell

summary: miles is takin down ur braids 

published: july 27, 2023

warnings: Grammarly hates me, the patriarchy, a dash of toxic masculinity, miles being a product of that grrah grah boom type masculinity, aave (no im not translating shit for you yall got access to urban dictionary and its not really a warning), i edited it myself so lmk if there are any mistakes

sueñito- little dream, bonito- handsome/ pretty boy, no me importa- i don't care/ it's not important to me

w/c: 1.5 k

reader's black coded cus im black so deal w it <3

i think this something every black boy be needin deep down

“Stop movin, ma” 

“It’s knotty,” 

“You had these in for how long?” 

Silence. 

“There's your answer right there, mama,”  

“Sorry,” 

“Nun to be sorry for, just hold still,” 

Currently sitting on the bathroom floor criss-cross apple sauce, Miles was sitting on the toilet, your head between his knees, while he was taking down the frizzy lemonade braids that barely hugged your scalp anymore. 

“Miles?” 

He hums in response, rat tail comb in one hand, a tub of coconut oil in the other, threading the tail of the comb through the extensions down your back  

“You’re the prettiest boy in all of Brooklyn,” 

“Shut up” 

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” 

“Nuh-uh,” 

“Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’? The little freckles all over your cheeks? Cutest things I’ve ever seen, especially how they’re all slightly different shades, like lil polka dots all over your face, gives me a map a’ where to kiss. The little tiny dimple on the left side of your face? Adorable, 10/10, no notes. Also very kissable." He's still now, staring at the back of your head, using bundles strewn over his shoulder, mouth agape. “Them thick and long ass eyelashes? I could stare at ‘em all day, they look like teeny tiny butterfly wings when you rest your eyes.” 

“Shut up,” he whispers, still unmoving, the little dab of coconut oil on his fingers slowly dribbling down his wrist 

“Your mind pretty as hell, too, I like listening to what you have to hear when you let me,” you mumble, pressing tiny kisses into his cargo pant–clad kneecap. 

“Stop doin that shit, ma” 

“What?” 

“Talkin all crazy like that,” 

“I’m not talkin crazy, miles I’m being honest,” 

“You makin me out to be some weak ass lil boy,” 

“Miles.” you turn around abruptly, staring at him dead in the eye. “I’m jus being honest wit you. What's going on?” 

“It’s nothin, ma, turn around”  

“Sueñito. Lemme know what's up,” 

“It’s nothin,” 

You huff, turning around to face the bottom of the sink again. Silence bellows throughout the bathroom, Miles rubbing oil on your braids to detangle them to later drag the comb in once again and throw the discarded hair extension over his shoulder. The only sound between the two of you is the Marvin Gaye spinning on the record player, rooms away, dull basslines thrumming through the apartment. 

“Ion like this,” 

“What?” 

“Whatever jus happened, we talk about what's bothering us,” 

“Ain't nothin botherin me, ma,” 

“Then why you start buggin' the second I get to complimenting you?” 

“Cus ian wit all that girly shit,” 

“Fuck you mean girly shit, I’m jus tryna love up on you Miles,” your nostrils flare as you stare ahead of you.  

“Baby, I’m all for that but–” 

“Miles, did someone tell you boys can't get that?” 

A silence. 

“Baby.” 

“What?” 

“Jus cus you a boy dont mean you don't deserve love,” 

“Aint nobody say allat–” 

“Shut up Ian done,” you say, swiftly turning around and snagging the oil and comb from his hand “jus cus you a boy doesn't mean you don't deserve to feel shit miles. Ion know what it was like wit your last girl, but Ian her. Okay? You allowed to be a person wimme, you know that right?” 

“Ma–” 

“Shut up I still ain't done yet. Miles I’m real, I’m right here. real like you, I promise you I’m not goin nowhere right now,” 

“You done?” 

“Yeah,”  

“C’mere,” he motions to his lap, taking the comb and oil out of your hands and setting them on the tiled floor, laying out the discarded bundles.  

“ ‘s oil all up on my hands” 

“No me importa ma, come up on here,”  

Obeying and wiping the excess coconut oil off your hand, you do. Straddling his lap, and looking into his eyes, examining the twinge of sadness in his eyes. 

“Talk to me, mama,” 

“I want you to know that you deserve love and that you’re allowed to feel some typa way. I want you to talk to me, Miles. I care about you so much and I wanna make sure you’re good. I love hearing you talk, but Ion like havin to beg you to talk to me. I love jus bein in your presence, but I hate feelin like that Miles. I don’t know who told you whatever's going through your head right now but they dead wrong. I wanna know how you be feelin, I wanna know.” 

“Why you even talk like this to me?” 

“Cus I’m your girl, n I like to kiss up on you and love all up on you,” 

At this, he averts his eyes, trying to escape your gaze, his breath audibly speeding up. 

“Mm mm, don't do that Miles. Please breathe,” 

You plead, subconsciously pressing your middle three fingers under his jaw trying to measure his heart rate. Almost as a reflex to hide from you, he shrugs your hand away from under his jaw and pulls his hoodie over his mouth.

“Nah nah, don't hide from me neither,”  

“Ain’t nobody hidin from you,” 

“Jus cus you a boy don’t mean you don't deserve them random ass cuddles, or someone to tie up your durag or wash your hair. It don’t mean you shouldn't get flowers or hugs or them lil hickies behind your ear. Don't mean you not allowed to be sad or mad or wanna cry. Now Ion know who told you or made you feel that way but they dead wrong Miles. You allowed to feel with me,” 

“Ian some lil boy runnin around though, that shit ain't for me,” 

“If you wasn't supposed to feel and acknowledge your feelings, why would you be able to feel them? They there for a reason,” 

Still straddled on his lap, he looks up at you with the tiny leverage you have on him. His eyes are big and doe-like, almost as if he’s scared to make this next step, say this next sentence.” 

“Ion know why,” he mumbles, voice soft and scared. suddenly he’s kissin up on you, gripping anything he can get his hands on, like he’s making up for lost time, lost feelings. It's urgent and a little rough, though his lips are soft and velvety, a twinge of menthol chapstick on them.  

“Yo yo yo, slow down. Ian goin nowhere” you whisper into his mouth, nails gently raking across his neck “ ‘m right here Miles, see?” you ask, guiding his hands to feel on the left side of your chest, right above your heart. “ ‘s my heart under there, I'm right here okay? I’m real, Miles I swear,” 

“You’re real?” he whispers, breath shaky and uneven fisting the thin fabric of your camisole under the evergreen zip-up, in an attempt to feel more of your heart. 

“You allowed to feel your feelings the same way you feel my heart,” 

He still looks astonished, scared, and frozen. suddenly it wasn’t him you were talking to anymore. it was the scared little Brooklyn boy who had all these feelings stored away inside him, unsure of what to do or who to show them to.  

“ ‘m sitting right here miles. I’m your girl, okay? This is real, and you are real,” 

“I’m real?” tears begin to swim in his eyes. 

“You’re real miles. and those feelings in that big heart of yours? Those are real too. And if you let me, I wanna hear all of 'em.”  

His body stills once more against you, a small tear gliding down his cheek. 

“I love you,” 

And then he’s sobbing. 

“Sshh, hey it's okay” you whisper, holding him close to your chest. “I love you so much I can’t hardly breathe when I'm around you. It’s okay and you're okay, Miles. I’m real and this is real and you. You are real.” you mumble into his braids, holding him with the protectiveness of a mother with a small child. 

He just sat there, his head buried in your chest as he cried quietly, letting everything out. You just sat and let him cry and vent through his tears. All the things he had bottled up, discouraged to show to anyone. Sooner or later the tears slow to a stop, his face puffy and hot. 

Gently tugging the ends of his braids, he looks up at you. 

“You feel better sueñito?” you ask, dragging the cuff of your sweater to dry his face and pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks in its wake. He did nothing but nod lazily, seemingly lighter, and nuzzling his face into your chest. 

“Lemme finish wiping up your face n then you can be all up on me, bonito, okay? 

He just nodded, dropping his head back to rest against the bathroom wall, the half-taken-out braids on your scalp no longer th task at hand. Reaching behind him you grab a baby wipe and swipe the tears and snot off his face, leaving his skin with a glossy finish. Holding his chin up, you look dead in his eyes. 

“You so beautiful Miles.” 

And this time, he nods. 

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

[aroacebrucewayne]

when I grow up, I want to be nothing at all

CHAPTER 1.

summary: ‘Bruce hasn’t looked at himself properly in the mirror for months.’ {batman? more like notman.}

a/n: 1. character referred to w he/him pronouns for a while because she doesn’t realise she’s transfem. She’s also Misgendered because the batfam doesn’t know yet. 2. I haven’t read any comics except for the first one w/ penguin in it!! All my knowledge is from other fanfics!! Do not come at me for not knowing lore please!!! 3. Story title is from “the end” by mcr because I’m cliche trash. 4. yes, I know Dick lives a city over. Why he’s randomly returning to Gotham on this day is unknown to me. But I have gone on overnight trips to visit my grandparents in the past and they live in another city too, so I guess it’s fine. Maybe he missed his family :) [also if you’re wondering where everyone else is/what their roles may be: patience. I’ll add to this au soon hopefully!]

5. Enjoy! Idk when I’ll be writing more for this but uh. Yeah. Have fun :)

Bruce hasn’t looked at himself properly in the mirror for months. He figures that it’s the scars crossing his body, riddling his torso and limbs with a map of his past victories and losses. Sure, he looks at his face to shave and occasionally cut his hair, but that’s about it. He’s still pondering this when he his phone chimes sharply.

Tim: hi bruce. dickhead coming for dinner 2day

The text, short and to the point, only reminds him to hurry up with his dressing. The batcave, while cool, isn’t an “acceptable substitute for fresh air and human interaction, Master Bruce.” So he swiftly pulls on a sweatshirt and pants, and goes back upstairs to wash the dirt, grime and facepaint off his face.

The bathroom tile he rests his forehead against is cool against his flushed skin, offering slight reprieve from the steady pounding in his skull. Bruce forces himself to look up at the mirror. Heavy dark circles, downturned mouth, and tired eyes stare back at him, and he trudges out into his bedroom.

The room isn’t really messy, he’s never allowed it to be. But there is a jacket flung over his full-length mirror, and a chair shoved in front of it, and both of them obstruct the full view of himself. He pushes the chair aside and grabs the jacket, convincing himself with some difficulty to look at himself fully and truly.

He looks normal. Maybe a little beaten down and weary, but otherwise he looks like a normal, regular, alright guy. The moment the thought manifests in his mind, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ward off the feeling of WRONGWRONGWRONG thrumming under his skin.

Fuck. Fuck. Maybe there is something wrong with him, something twisted. Self hatred is nothing new to him, but this feels different. More painful. He takes one more look at the mirror - Face your fears - and leaves the room, jacket tossed to the floor. He can’t waste time thinking about himself: Dick’s coming for dinner, Tim and Damian are coming home from school soon, and the sky is clear and cloudless. It’s a beautiful day, and Bruce has spent most of it in the cave, burning case details into his mind.

The thought makes his headache spike up again, and he casts his mind to other things. Chiefly, the sound of voices coming from the dining room. Tim and Damian are sitting at the table, eating sandwiches, while Tim chatters excitedly about his day to Alfred.

Bruce steels himself for a moment before he enters with a smile, jumping into the conversation with ease. All his worries and anxiety melts into the background, his chief attention being on this sliver of his family, here and now. His mind hones into the present, and he drops his earlier train of thought with ease.

He can always figure that thing out later.

[redbleedingrose]

i think eris collects fancy wine and lucien has a lot of old maps what do u think

Oh, I have been waiting all DAY for someone to send me an ask about my favorite Vanserra bro’s! I am so excited tehehhe!!

Hobbies for the Vanserra Bro’s

Eris Vanserra

Okay, starting with the love of my LIFE!!!

He is a master of all trades tbh. He has so many hobbies, especially once Beron goes bye bye LMAO. He has so much more free time, he was already practically running the Autumn Court, even when Beron was alive. But now, without the added stress of his father, he is trying to explore all different avenues for hobbies, especially when you can join him.

He absolutely collects fancy wines. I think Er is a collector in general. He likes collecting wines that you both can share after a long day of hard work, he likes to collect unique and rare editions of his favorite books that he can display in the library he built for you, he likes collecting rocks and geodes and seashells that he will use as decorations in Marwa and Twila’s nursery. When they are born, Eris becomes a collector of all things for his favorite babes. He collects dresses and jewelry that they will use when they are older, he loves collecting shoes and handbags for them. Eventually, a new wing to your home is added just so he can store all of things he has collected over the years for them that they have unlimited access to. I also think Er would collect children’s stories and books for them, he loves encouraging them to learn and grow into smart, young ladies. He absolutely expands the library for them, creating a little play space for them along with hundreds, if not thousands of books that all belong to them.

I also think Eris would become involved with creating DV shelters. He would absolutely love being involved in foundations and charities that specialize in helping women get away from their ab*sers, and building a new life for themselves. He has created a whole new job sector for these women, and often finds himself visiting these shelters so that he can help the older ladies running the home cook and clean. You can picture him in his apron, scrubbing away at the tile with furrowed brows trying to get the grout out. He would also bring his pups to the shelters so that they can play with the ladies and the children.

While Beron was alive, he did have a secret hobby that only you know of. One that you and him will take to the grave. One that was the reason for your first oathe to him, the reason that you have a tattoo that matches his on your left forearm.

Tehe.

You know those smutty books that Nesta reads?

Yeah…… He ghost wrote those.

Don’t ask questions, but he did.

The poor male had to express himself and his desire for you somehow.

Anyway, only you and him know that he is Prythian’s best selling romance author. And thats the way its going to stay.

That secret follows you both to the grave.

Oh and Eris is for sure an animals rights activist. He loves his horses and his pups so much, even though he will never admit it, but he has spent a lot of time creating laws that provide protections for endangered species and animal rights in general. He has limited hunting grounds in Autumn Court to allow for safe areas for animas to roam and exist freely. He absolutely tries to convince you to move onto a farm with him. He wants so many animals on that farm, he wants pigs and goats, dogs and cats, horses and cows. He also really loves the idea of having chickens.

One day you will give in from his incessant begging.

Not today, but one day.

Lucien Vanserra

Lucien is also a collector, just like his older brother. He absolutely collects old maps. He also collects coins that he finds on the ground, claiming they are lucky, and he also collects stamps from different courts, using them to depict his travels and act as an homage to his journey through life that lead to finding you. I think Loosh also collects art and pottery, and I know he himself, has dipped into the talent of pottery as a hobby. Even if all of his vases are a little crooked and his mugs are kinda cracked and a janky orange color.

He tries his very best, and thats all that matters to you.

So you will absolutely display his crooked vases in your home, and use his janky orange mugs, even if he glares at you while your coffee leaks in dribbles onto the floor and you smirk at him over the rim of the mug and you wiggle your eyebrows as you “cheers” him. Because you are a loving, good mate who displays your mates talent of course.

Even if it is just to make fun of him

But I also think he is a nature freak. He loves cultivating and collecting rare herbs and plants that he can grow in Day Court. He loves using those herbs and plants to create herbal remedies. He is a big naturalist. I think before you accepted him as your mate, he spent a lot of time in the Day Court libraries trying to get his mind off of you and he did that by studying old medicine. He studied different healing techniques and herbs that he could use to create medicinal potions. Over time, it grew into collecting these herbs and creating these potions for those who are sick, especially the elderly where he ended up donating a lot of his creations.

He also loves going fishing, he could spend hours in the ocean or in a lake or river swimming and fishing. He always releases them back into the wild, but I think there is something he finds peaceful about being in nature and being able to use nature in different ways. He loves going on hikes with you, and he absolutely is a camping nerd. His first holiday with you included going no-contact with every other person he knows for a week and spending that week in nature with you. He taught you different ways to find fresh water, and he would catch fish and cook them for you over the fire he stoked. At some point, he became really really good at cooking outdoors and was creating meals that are almost impossible for the most experienced chefs to make out door using nature.

Anyway, it was fun, and while it may not be your cup of tea for every vacation you take, you will go with him on this camping trip at least once a year to get away from society and spend time with your favorite male.

But!!! This does spark an idea for Lucien.

He loves to take young children out into nature to teach them about it, teaching them how to fish and how to survive in the outdoors just for fun. So he creates a little group of 5-10 year old children similar to Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, encouraging all children to join him as he takes them out into nature. He teaches them how to swim, and how to tie sailors knots, and how to safely make s’mores. The children of Day Court look forward to it all year, excited to spend one on one time with their high lord who teaches them so many things, who is so kind to them, who is so funny and cool to hang out with. Story time in front of a campfire slaps for those kids. Eventually, when your children grow of age, he brings them with him, giving you a whole week for yourself to rejuvenate and vacation in peace.

With that being said, Lucien does take action similar to his brother. He creates national parks and conservation areas to protect nature. It is something that he finds incredibly important and he knows that one day, his children and grandchildren, and future generations as well, will appreciate his efforts to protect the world. He goes as far as convincing other courts to join his efforts as well, expanding protected areas.

Masterlist

[kiwibirbkat]

Sasha Elizabeth Waybright. The perfect, funny cheerleader. A bad student but a good enough friend. Her perfectly designed personality had almost everyone wrapped around her fingers.

What's not to love?

If you asked her parents, everything. Well, her dad has been too busy with his pretty little girlfriend recently to critique her, so you'd have to ask her mom.

But don't worry, because her mother had enough hatred and criticism of Sasha to make up for the loss of her fathers complaints.

And of course, some of her points were right- Sasha was self aware enough to admit that she wasn't perfect. But the other points her mother made were just plain wrong; She wasn't a goody two shoes, or a wimp, or whatever other words her mother threw at her just because Sasha wouldn't tell her who her dad's girlfriend is.

So, yeah, Sasha didn't have the best relationship with her parents. She wasn't "abused" or "neglected" or any of those other buzz words people used to pity her, but she and her parents weren't exactly the picture perfect loving family. Divorced parents and their shitty, bitter kid. How nice.

Not that any of that mattered, but Sasha liked to provide context for her inner monologue. Because she was nice.

Finally getting to the present moment, it was a Saturday. Which meant she was at her mothers house. Which meant that there was no food in the house (as always). Ignoring this, her mother, who was still mad from their screaming match hours earlier, had gone to dinner without her. Again.

So Sasha Waybright, a middle schooler, was stomping the streets full of weirdos, alone, at 7:25, only 30 minutes away from the place she was heading towards closing to minors.

At least, she was pretty sure she was going there. The shitty barcade/restaurant/probable money laundering scheme she was looking for wasn't on Google Maps. Mentions of it were all over the Internet, but the actual location wasn't available to view anywhere. (She later learned that there weren't any legal records of the place, either, when she got Marcy to check for her.)

Hell, Sasha only actually knew about it because her mom had stumbled into her room blackout drunk last weekend, complaining about the bitch of a bartender kicking her out. Her mom had gone on and on about how even though the food was cheap, the service was horrible.

"Cheap," however, always piqued Sasha's interest, and she managed to force an address and name out of her mother before she passed out on Sasha's bedroom floor.

And cheap was exactly what Sasha needed as she marched towards "The Owl House" with a measly 10 dollars crumpled in her clenched fist.

Sasha shoved the door open with a scowl, prepared to fight through a crowd to get her fucking food.

To her surprise, however, the only person in the little restaurant other than Sasha herself was a strange looking employee. And actually, the place was kinda nice. Cozy. The wallpaper was warm and only peeling in a few corners, and the floor was a pretty swatch of wood. Under all the scratches and smudges, at least.

And it was just packed enough to seem small but not claustrophobic. Two picnic tables were placed along the wall and one was situated right from the entrance, near the front wall. The left wall was occupied by the order counter. Four arcade cabinets sat back to back in the middle of the room, making a little square. Towards the very back of the space, when the wood was switched with a grimy checkerboard tile, a bar sat.

Sasha blinked, calming down. She quickly skimmed the menu for the cheapest option.

Her scowl returned, however, as she realized the cheapest thing on the menu was mac n cheese. One of her least favorite foods.

She trudged towards the counter, resigning herself to her fate.

"What would you like to order?" An obnoxious voice said. She finally looked at the employee, and almost did a double take.

They were the strangest person she'd ever laid her eyes on.

They had beady eyes and an uncanny smile on a pimply, pale face with a short (and pointy) nose.

Their greasy brown hair stuck weirdly to their scalp, sticking up in some places and laying flat on others. It sort of looked like feathers, if she squinted.

And, Christ, they were tall. They had to be at LEAST 7 feet, if not more. On their gangly body, pinned to their oversized, raggedy T-shirt, a name tag sat.

The name was crossed out, but easy to read anyway. It said Henry. Underneath the crossed out name, in the same marker that was crossing the name out, "HOOTY" was sprawled in sloppy handwriting, signed by nothing but a shitty crown.

Sasha took a wild guess that Henry (Hooty? Sasha didn't actually know which one he preferred) didn't write it.

Underneath it, there was a little He/Him! :) scribbled in different, slightly less sloppy, handwriting.

Sasha cleared her throat and, realizing that she still hasn't responded, muttered a quiet "Mac and cheese, please…" before sliding her 10 dollar bill across the counter.

Hooty smiled again, accepting the money and sliding her 2 dollars back (did he not tax her?).

"And what flavor of lollipop would you like with that, hoot?" He chirped.

Sasha blinked.

Hooty chuckled. "Every customer gets a free lollipop, hoot!"

Sasha stared at him. His smile quickly turned awkward under her piercing gaze. He hooted a couple times, nervously. Hoot. Was that, like, a vocal stim? Marcy had those. Was his name tag making fun of him, then? So he probably preferred Henry, then.

"Surprise me."

Sasha walked away, immediately beelining towards the arcade cabinets.

She walked faster as she realized they were already wired to run for free, jogging towards the Pac-Man cabinet.

That kept her occupied until shoes stomped heavily down stairs and a voice cut through the air.

"Hooty!" (Did he actually prefer Hooty, then?) "Did you read my diary again!?"

Sasha looked up at that, staring at the lady.

She had grey hair with ginger roots. She looked 40(ish???) but wow, she wore 40 well. Or maybe it was just the way she dressed.

She had a red dress, with the top half and sleeves being a darker shade. There was a slit down the bottom middle of the dresses front and a lighter red triangle thing falling down the front.

Her boots were high heeled, too.

"Oh, there's a customer! Hello! Hooty, we'll talk about this later." Her voice was nice. Sasha felt her face heat up.

"Y-Yes, Eda! Hoot!" Hooty/Henry blurted, giggling nervously.

Sasha shrugged, putting her head back down to her game and furrowing her brow and making a sound in the back of her throat in protest as Pac-Man was eaten.

She was about to smack the machine, as if that would change the result, when Hooty/Henry called out again.

"Hey, your food is done! Hoot!"

Sasha sulked as she walked up to the counter, snatching her tray.

Her mood worsened when the customary lollipop was grape flavored. She stared at Hooty/Henry incredulously.

"Hey! I like it!" He protested uselessly as Sasha just stomped over to a bench.

She scarfed down her mac and cheese, which was actually tolerable for once.

She finished the food quickly and dumped the trash into the trash can, leaving the tray on top.

She walked out with an acknowledging hum at Hooty/Henry's goodbye.

Random people brushed by her to push into the building.

Huh.

Guess the place is more popular as a bar.

She flipped them off, and started the walk home.

She popped the shitty grape lollipop into her mouth, thinking.

Hooty/Henry had read Eda's diary?

Sasha was pretty sure Eda was his boss. What a weird workplace relationship.

…Regardless, he was nice, if annoying. And the arcade machines were cool. And the food was pretty good.

Although, Sasha didn't see who was working in the kitchen. Maybe they were as strange as the other workers.

She would have to go back there sometime earlier.

Rewrite of this little fic

Cross posted on AO3

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

The FE5 cast rules and is a perfect example of doing a lot with very little, wich is why I love the old FE game.

Like take Ralph. At first glance he look like an extremly generic pre-promote : mid but usable base, generic portrait. But that the point ! He is the embodiment of the common folk that still choose to rise against atrocity. Or the Leonster knight scrub squad. Yeah they suck, because they are just a bunch of guy cosplaying as knight while Dryas remince of his "glory" day. Do you think it is a coincidence the two shitty cav you get are named like knock-off Abel and Cain (it's Alva and Kain, btw). Shannam is a garbage swordmaster who only worth is buying thing 50 % cheaper, because is a conman ! He is pretenting to be Shannan ! Xavier and Misha are horribly to recruit because they do not want to be recruited (You want to kill Xavier because his recruitement is the worst objective in the franchise ? Good news, he also want Leif to kill him !)

But my favorite example is Eda. At first glance, she is just a unpromoted, worst version of her brother who join as the same time. But here the thing : one, she has the best death quote in the franchise, and two, she is actually the perfect embodiment of one of the game theme. You see, while Genealogy is mostly focused on divine bloodline and a continental spaning war, Thracia take step back, being about one rebellion in one province in much smaller map (there a map in Thracia that take place in just one tile of chapter 8 of FE4), and one of it main point is that everyone can be a crusader( Ced just write it out in his chapter 23 dialogue) And here the thing : Deen and Eda are, physically, carbon copy of Dáinn and Njörun, despite having zero holy blood. So does holy blood really matter ? And what does it say about the high and mighty nothern thracian when they founder reincarnation is born in south thracia ?

Also she has a weirdly gay ending

.

[sxnshinebag]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡 | 𝙰 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚗

| 𝘈, (𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵) 𝘍 |  𝖬𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒, 𝖥𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒, 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘪𝘢, 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘉𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨,

| 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘪 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 |  

↳   𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝖥𝗍. 𝖪𝗎𝗎 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

↳ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 - 𝘠/𝘕 𝘓/𝘕, 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘪𝘢. 𝘜𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘠/𝘕 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱.  

𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦.  

𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯?

(𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘯” 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴)

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 - 𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 [𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥]

𝘞𝘒 - 3.7k

𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷 | 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Moving into the next room where there were three clouds of dust moving around, there was a map of the world against the clear glass wall.

And there were bulbs in all the countries, but none of them were on. A machine in the corner was turned off. Is that why the map wasn't on?

Y/N stared at it a little longer and turned her eyes to the long brown table on the other side of the room.

The only thing on the table was a hand mirror that was slightly cracked on the surface. But it was not reflecting her when she picked it up. She turned her head to the closest cloud of dust.

"Hey, Dust," she called out to it. "How do you use this thing?"

The cloud of dust jumped. "It's a mystical mirror!" It answered happily. "Just think about where you want to go and you'll go woosh right there!"

"Really," Y/N muttered. That's useful. She placed the mirror in her bag and continued on into the path, but she froze when seeing reflections of herself from rows on down. Even the tiles were glass to reflect her. "A room of mirrors." She held her stained hand out and walked forward till her hand hit the mirror.

Taking some details in, she looked even worse than before. Did bags form bags under her eyes? Y/N couldn't look at herself any longer and continued to follow the path.

Her eyes were looking at anywhere but her face. Hand hugging the right and she had easily gotten out of the room. 

But surprise, surprise, Jimin was sitting at a round table. Three big red trees and two small trees and green bushes scattered around. "Hey, Y/N," he lazily waved his hand when she noticed him. "Still wandering around?"

"Jimin," Y/N breathed out, walking up to the table. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't I be wherever I want to be?" Jimin raised a brow at her question and gestures his hand to the table with two empty cups. "I thought about tea with Sandman, but he seems busy. Really, he should take it easy since he's got no work."

From the last sentence, Y/N suddenly felt like a deer in headlights. She cleared her throat. "Yeah," she extended her word and quickly walked around the table and into the next room.

Only a goddess statue in the middle, a bucket of water, and two windows. 

Y/N's eyes longed at the statue as if it looked like someone familiar to her. Was it her mother? It looked like her mother when she was younger.

But she couldn't keep her eyes on it as she went around the statue and tried to open the door. It didn't budge. Y/N shook the door even more, but nothing. She sighed and went to the other door, maybe Jimin can help her.

But it didn't budge.

"Huh?" she knocked on the door. "Jimin! Jimin, this isn't funny!"

Her head tilted up when sudden singing echoed in the room. Then she turned to the statue. Was it coming from there? First, it looked like her mother, and now it sounded like her.

Is this Jimin's doing? Her body was shaking, feeling weaker with the seconds passing from how angelic this voice was.

Feeling more tired. Y/N had to stay awake. Anything. She had to stay awake. Her first thought was to dig her phone out and blast the loudest music she had, and it was slightly working.

But still so tired.

Looking around, her eyes went to the bucket and she staggered toward it. Picking it up and tilting it upside down to drench herself in water.

So cold, but it woke her even more.

And she grasped the window ledge and yelled from the top of her lung till she slowly went down on her knees. 

Breathing deeply, Y/N looked over at the statue. She had one last idea in her tired mind. Weakly getting up, Y/N toppled to the statue and flattened her palm against it to keep her balance.

Leaning her head back and slamming her forehead on the stone. Y/N hissed in pain, but she still felt tired.

Again and again, feeling liquid fall between her eyes.

But she couldn't stay up.

Her body gave up on the balance and she fell on her side. Was it over? Too heavy to move a muscle. And the doors opened, Jimin coming through.

"Oh, dear," he sympathized, looking at the state Y/N was currently in. "I told you you should've given up."

Y/N's eyes opened slowly and her orbs went up to the voice. "Jimin," she called out silently. "Please stop... the song." 

"Why?" Jimin asked, hands in his pockets as if it were his signature pose. "Weren't you wanting to fall asleep? Now you finally can."

"Yeah, but," Y/N sniffled and tears mixed with her blood and went over the arch of her nose. "I don't... want to sleep forever. Please." she tried to reach for Jimin but it hit the ground in seconds.  "Jimin. Don't let me fall... asleep." 

Jimin stared at Y/N a little longer and soon the singing disappeared. "Alright, it's off," he stated softly and let out a sigh. "I feel bad seeing you so worn out. That's what you get for acting rashly."

He walked up to her and went down on one knee and grasped her shoulders and had her head rest on his shoulder. Y/N tried to smack him but it only laid on his chest and went down.

Jimin smiled lightly and a rag appeared in his hand as he wiped off the blood.

"Enough," Y/N whispered, wincing when the rag touched her forehead where she slammed it on the statue. "Enough." her voice raised lighter, eyes tightening to try and keep tears away.

"Why did this have to happen?! After all that putting up with being sleepless, you try to put me to sleep when I have to be awake," Her hand raised again to Jimin's chest and clutched his shirt. "Please, Jimin! Tell me how I can stop the Sandman. I've had enough of this. I just want a normal sleep!" 

"How should I know how to do that?" Jimin spoke softly to her, placing the rag on the ground beside him when he wiped off the blood. 

Y/N opened her eyes but couldn't look up at Jimin. "Well, you tell him," she pleaded. "Tell him to give up on putting people to sleep forever." 

A sigh left Jimin as he began to move her and slowly help her up to her feet. "I can't do that," he denied, still having Y/N lean on him. "Sandman made me, so I can't defy him."

When hearing that, Y/N pushed off of him and stared at him. "So I just have to give up?" She asked with disbelief. "Give up and sleep forever?" 

They had a slight stare-off, and Jimin blinked first. "Well," He blew out a breath, having to look away from Y/N again before looking back at her. "If anybody had a plot to stop Sandman, I know who it'd probably be."

"Who? Could they stop him?"

"Leave the house and go east," Jimin pointed in the direction. "There's a lake with pink trees along it. That's where you'll find him."

Then he turned around to leave. "Wait!" She called out to him, but he only stopped without turning. "What kind of person is he?" 

"Someone Sandman hates," Jimin answers, still not turning to look at Y/N. "The traps in this house are to keep him out." he raised a hand with his pointer finger raised.

"Oh, and he was also the one who exposed me to you back in your world. Loves to get in the way of work, he does," Finally, he turned around. "Be careful, Y/N. It's up to you who to trust, but." he looked her up and down. "This lowlife has a thing for cute girls like you." 

And he walked off, letting a shocked Y/N stay frozen in her steps. "C-Cute?" She repeated with a squeak.

That had to be a distraction. And that wouldn't stop her as she was getting the mirror out of her bag, almost dropping it as she was becoming slightly clumsy.

The words from Jimin entered her head. But she tried to throw that to the side as she thought about the entrance.

And in seconds, she was outside of the castle. Y/N turned to look at the large home and down at the mirror. "It really did work." 

Y/N placed the mirror in her bag and reached out into the log, having gone back to normal size when getting sucked through the log. Turning around she saw the small castle and pumped the air to prep for herself before heading east.

But it only took fifteen steps when she realized the pond was right there and a black unicorn stood right in front of it.

"Oh! Y/N!" the unicorn spoke, noticing the insomniac walking toward him. "You're late. I was waiting for you."

"And you are?" Y/N asked, taking in details the closer she was getting to him. His blond mane looks soft and his blue eyes look like crystals. They really are majestic looking." 

"Come on, you have to know," He neighed lightly in the end. "I'm the Unicorn!" 

Well, that was much she could take from his figure. Was hoping for a name. "I saw you back in my world," it would only make sense of seeing a sudden shadow. "Did you want to bring me over here?" 

"Yep, that was the plan!" Unicorn confirmed. "I hated letting Sandman have his way. Plus, you're just so cute!" he shook his head with his male flying around, his tail also going a little crazy. "Hey, Y/N! Do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything?"

"Huh?" Y/N had to register the question with a few blinks. "Well, no."

"Weeell, anyone you like?!"

Y/N waved her hand. "Shut up!" she blushed, huffing in annoyance at such questions. "And if there is?! It's none of your business!" 

"Tight-lipped, are we?" Unicorn chuckled, tapping the ground with his hoof. "That's how girls always are!" his tail flicked. "So, I hear you want to stop Sandman? Oh, I know how that feels! He's such a detestable fellow!"

Her lips thinned for a few seconds. "Can you tell me what I should do?" She asked.

"You bet!" Unicorn hummed. "But not for free. I want a favor too!"

Of course. "A favor?" 

"Sandman hides lots of pretty jewels in his house," Unicorn looked over Y/N toward the castle. "I've asked to see 'em again and again, be he's all, never to the likes of you!" he dragged his hoof into the dirt in frustration.

"So I tried sneaking in for a peel, but he made these weird traps to keep me out! I'll-natured old coot, isn't he? So if you can show me one of those jewels. I'll give you something great and useful! How 'bout it?"

"Just bring a jewel?" Y/N repeated Unicorn's request in wariness. 

"Yep!" Unicorn nodded. "The jewels I mean are round and glossy. They come in all sorts of colors! Oh, but I specifically want a pink jewel, Not interested in any others." 

Unicorn is Y/N's only hope, so does she even have any other option? "Alright," She gave in. "What if the Sandman sees me and I can't bring it?" 

"Well then, I'll run you through with my horn!" Unicorn threatened with glee. Blood drained from Y/N at the threat as Unicorn giggled. "I can't way! Good luck, Y/N!" 

Y/N let out a breathless chuckle and grabbed the mirror to get herself to the entrance room of the home. Y/N took a sigh of relief, no longer having to be with that unicorn.

The fact that he threatened her without a change of tone.

She sighed and looked around the doors she still have yet to go, and chose to go right. There wasn't much in here of a table with a red candle and two sofas, along with a cloud of dust moving around in a panic in front of a fallen painting.

"What's the matter?" she asked, walking up to the dust. 

 "I was cleaning when the painting fell!" the dust panicked. "What to do?! What to do?!"

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Here, I'll help," she offered, bending down to pick up the painting while the cloud of dust cheered.

But she couldn't lift it, groaning and dropping it back down on the ground. "Sorry. We'll just have to leave it here." 

"Okay," the dust spoke. If it had a physical body, there would definitely be a pout on its face. "Keep it secret it was me, okay?" 

"I promise," Y/N smiled, and looked back at the painting. But her head tilted up to see something on the wall. Paintings of jewels.

Blue, light blue, purple, green, pink, red, line, orange. 

He did say how the Sandman created puzzles to keep him away. She thought, now memorizing the colors of the pattern before waving goodbye to the dust. 

Getting the mirror, she thought about that small room with the red liquid. She did see shiny things before Sandman surprised her and chased her through the maze.

Turning around in the opposite direction of the door and shook her fist with triumph and began to reinsert the jewels in the position she remembered in that candle room.

The wall shook and separated to form the same designed doors. Y/N walked through the door and it looked like a room with drawers, shelves, and a closet, and pieces of wood dust all over the floor.

And the wall of the doors had many sacks hanging as the one Sandman holds over his shoulder. Maybe she should grab one in case her bag is full?

It is already with a large jar and a handheld mirror. Surprising how neither broke. 

Going more into the room, she noticed a stick propping against one of the shelves and grasped it.

She swung it around lazily to hear the air whizz. Something to defend herself, better than nothing. Y/N turned and walked up to the door.

Before she could push it open, she heard footsteps.

Sandman.

She took a step back and turned to look at the room behind her. The only place she could think to hide was the closet. Her feet ran to the closet in the corner and closed the doors.

One of them stayed cracked so she could see a bit of what was going on if possible. Her body flinched when hearing the doors creak open and footsteps walking in.

And they happened for a few more seconds till it stopped before the sound of doors closing. 

That was quick.

Y/N sighed in relief, beginning to open the door. Suddenly a cold hand grasped her upper arm. She froze and looked down to see a pale green hand and really long nails that may break off any second.

Hey, pretty lady

Stay with me for a little bit, yes?

A scream ripped from her throat and she flung out of the closet and crawled away from the closet.

That couldn't have happened. It was just her.

Yeah, that's right. 

Y/N calmed herself and brought herself up to her feet. It was gone and thrown away in her mind. As if it never happened. She walked out of the room and went into the maze room.

Following the path, she noticed a staircase. Keep going along with the red line till she was in front of the staircase, but the glass was in between. Y/N raised the stick and slammed it into the glass hard, ducking her head when glass shards flew around.

Barely an indent, so she kept going till it was huge for her to go through. There was one large piece of glass that caught her eye so she picked it up and dropped it in her bag for more self-defense. 

Up the stairs, there was a large table with a white cloth covering and reaching the ground. Five jewels of different colors resting on gold stance, a microscope, a stack of paper, and another piece of purple paper she found earlier.

One of those jewels was pink, reminding her why she was there, and picked it up to observe it. Though it wasn't shiny, and Y/N really didn't want a horn pierced through her body.

Turning around she saw a pair of doors and walked through it. 

Not expected when it was a huge machine with a purple tube on the wall and the ending pointing at the ground and a black wire connected to a silver cup.

But Y/N did notice a water bucket and a note on the wall that was about to fall off. She took it off and placed it in her bag before crouching down and placing the jewel inside.

Rubbing it with her other hand, and watching the water staining, Y/N brought the jewel out of the water, and her eyes widened. "The pink came off?" She questioned, moving the jewel around.

Sighing, she traded the jewel for the piece of paper she had in her bag and looked at it.

Of course, she couldn't read it.

As much as she didn't want to, she had to go to Jimin in that tea room. 

With the mirror, Y/N was in the tea room and Jimin sat in that chair. Sitting and resting like nothing was happening. Didn't even look at her.

"Jimin," and then he did, a slight smirk on his lips when seeing her holding out a piece of paper without looking at him. "Can you read what this says?" 

Jimin hummed and took the paper from Y/N and looked at it. "Ah, from the jewel harvesting room," he noticed. "It's how to use the Suction Machine." he held it out to Y/N while speaking the directions. "Put suction cup on target's head and press button." 

"Thanks," Y/N still didn't look at Jimin, grabbing the paper.

Fortunately, he moved the paper for her to feel. She felt like if she looked at him, emotions would come out when she was in his arms in the statue room.

He was against her but at the same time with her. Wait, was he even against her?

No, no time for that.

Back in the room with the machine, Y/N looked back at the mysterious machine. Could she make it with her mind? She picked up the cup and placed it over her head.

Think about a pink jewel. Pink Jewel. Jimin. Pink Jewel.

Wait what? 

Y/N froze at what she just thought for a split second but slowly moved to press the button to not waste time with the pink jewel still in her head.

Her body shook for five seconds until it stopped and a sound of something dropping to the ground. 

Y/N turned around and took off the cup from her head when seeing a pink jewel under the tube. Cheering in her mind, Y/N grabbed the jewel and used the mirror to get to the entrance.

She quickly made her way through the log and walked fast to the pond, calling out to Unicorn who turned to see the pink jewel held out to him.

"Oh, thank you!" he gleamed, staring at the jewel. "Finally, I can see this wonder—Oh?" he stared at the jewel deeply, turning his head to get his eyes closer to the object. "Hold on, is this jewel yours, Y/N?"

"Yeah," Y/N rotated her head toward her as she looked more into it. "I made it." her eyes went up to the Unicorn in fear. "Is that no good?"

"Um, no, it's fine," Unicorn shook his head roughly to have his body follow with his mane and tail flailing. "Maybe I did something kinda bad."

"What—"

"Oh, nothing!" Unicorn talked over her, walking around her to stretch his legs. "Thanks, I've been longing to see this!" And he was back in front of Y/N again. "Here, you can have this." His horn glowed grey mist and something appeared beside her feet. 

"What's this weird-colored rock?" Y/N asked, staring at the object. 

"It's a Limpstone, and it has special powers!" Unicorn answered, his neck stretching down to the rock. Though his nuzzle didn't touch it. "When you touch it, you go all weak and limp! Great, isn't it?"

"What's the good in this?" Y/N asked as Unicorn brought his head back up. "How does this help me stop the Sandman? First of all, how am I supposed to hold it?!" 

"Oh, you can ask Dwarf about that!" Unicorn answered with ease. "I'm sure he can make it into something you can use." 

Y/N looked at Unicorn. "Dwarf?" she repeated. "A fairy good at making things I assume?"

"You know him well!" Unicorn neighed. "He lives in the cave west of Sandman's house. More open-minded than Sandman, so he should do it." Y/N stared at the creature in front of her a little longer and looked down at the rock. "I'll give you the stone in this bag for now. Wishing you good luck, Y/N!"

She picked up the bag when it appeared and formed around it with Unicorn's magic. "Hey, Unicorn," her other hand still held the jewel, holding it up to show the subject of her spoken question. "Are you not wanting this jewel?"

"Nah, I just wanted to see, but if you need it, you can keep it," he denied. But he added on. "Do you?" 

A light chuckle came from Y/N. "You can keep it," she held the jewel further toward Unicorn who used his magic to make it disappear. 

"Thanks, Y/N,"

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eleven

The birthday boy, Elias, and his boyfriend Leon live in an apartment block in the Charlottenburg district of the city. It belongs to Leon’s father, whose job has something to do with the automotive industry, and is the type of wealthy man who prefers to have his properties blurred out in Google Maps. Jude assured us that their place is massive. “Like, unreal, insane, massive”, and offers to travel there with us, only our dinner runs late and we need time to rush back to the hostel and change our clothes, so we agree to meet at the penthouse instead. 

The apartment, thankfully, has a lift, and it has even more than that. It has a concierge that glances up from his neat little desk as we push through the heavy doors and with a small sigh says “Du bist wegen der Geburtstagsfeier hier.”

“Um. Ja.” I say, and he waves us towards the elevator. “Zehnter stock.”

“Danke schon!” We shuffle inside it and hit the button for the tenth floor. My stomach seems to lurch more than usual as I stand there and wait to be carried all the way up the building. I smooth my hands over the front of my trousers and take a deep breath, somewhat surprised to find it shuddering. I’m anxious. Something feels charged tonight, but it must be the energy in the air from the looming thunderstorm. Huge, black clouds started rolling in over us as soon as we alighted the train, and now, outside of this apartment block, the great, fat raindrops that narrowly missed us have begun to hammer the pavement. 

Our plastic heels clack across the tile as we make our way towards the huge double doors to knock. There is muffled music coming from within, and it suddenly amplifies when the door swings open, and a man dressed as Neil Armstrong stands there. “Hallo.” He says, and stands aside to let us into the apartment, flooded by the sounds of dreamy, psychedelic rock. 

I try not to let my jaw hit the floor as I look around us. It really is massive. Unreal, insane, and whatever other adjectives one could use in an attempt describe a place that is beyond description. It is a marriage of concrete and glass and steel, with floor to ceiling windows that provide a perfect view of the glittering city beneath us. A sunken living room with leather furniture is decorated by the beautiful people who sit in it, and the television, although off, is the biggest one I’ve ever seen. There are paintings, and books, and plants, and stunning decor and everything, down to the door handles and the throws on the couches is like a piece of art. I barely even look at the people around me, I just stare, and stare at the pendant lights and the rugs and the bespoke kitchen table, littered with bottles of wine and loose cups that should certainly all be sitting on coasters and wonder how I’ll be expected to do anything else that evening but stare at this place and its ostentatious display of wealth.

“Come on.” Claire tugs at my arm. “Let’s go say hello to the guys.” She leads me into the kitchen, when Jonas and Jude are sitting on a pair of barstools. They stand up when they spot us, and I can’t help but grin. “Hey, we made it.”

“You did.” Says Jude. “Priscilla Presley?” 

“Yes!”

He makes me spin around. “You’ve done a great job, my God. Your hair.”

“I’m trying not to think about how I’m going to get it to sit back down straight again after this. I tortured it with a comb.” I take a moment to take in his costume, which to my immense disappointment is a 60s style brown suit. That’s it. “Who are you meant to be?”

“JFK.” He smirks. “Is it not obvious?”

“I can’t believe this. You could just be some guy!”

“Well I’m not just some guy, I’m JFK.”

“Well, groovy, I suppose.” I say, throwing up a peace sign in the spirit of it all, and he chuckles. “I’m pretty sure Priscilla didn’t say things like ‘groovy’.”

“Fine, it’s not groovy, then.”

“Yeah that sounds more like her.” We turn to our friends, in conversation with one another and I do a double take when I realise who Jonas is dressed as. “Charles Manson?” I splutter, and he looks at me with amusement and says “Yes, didn’t I do a good job?”

“A great job.” I agree, “Only it’s a bit awkward, seeing as Claire is dressed as Sharon Tate.” He looks at her and bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, I didn’t know who you were supposed to be! This is terrible!”

She curtseys for him. “Only because people tell me that I look like her. It’s not very obvious, I suppose. She really did dress quite normally.” We make them pose together for at least a dozen photographs on Claire’s new polaroid camera, and then Jude and I grin for Claire when she turns it on us, and Jude puts his arm around me while we pull the ugliest faces we can. Then he pretends to kiss my cheek, lips hovering just a few tantalising centimetres from my cheek and I try my best to act like it doesn’t phase me.

After he swivels around to grab a pair of beers from the counter for us, I ask him “Where’s Jackie O?” He peers around us. “I don’t think anybody came as her, which, honestly, now feels like a bit of a waste. It’s a pity that you and I didn’t think of collaborating or something. You could have been my first lady.”

“Or you could have collaborated with me and been my 60’s Elvis, which would have been way more interesting than your dusty old suit.” I say, but he doesn’t seem to have been listening. Instead his eyes are somewhere over my head. I glance behind me to see Astrid enter the kitchen, and her presence in this space makes my skin prickle, like she’s instantly sucked all of the energy out of the room. The last time I saw her her hair was cascading down to the small of her back in perfect, white blonde waves, and now it’s gone. Lopped off into the shortest of short pixie cuts imaginable. For a brief moment I wonder if it’s a wig to suit her Twiggy costume, but as she gets closer to us I realise that it isn’t, it couldn’t be. It’s her real hair. She’s really cut it all off, displaying a drastically different, sharper, more severe and angular look than before. When her light blue eyes meet mine, I swear she almost rolls them. 

“Hello.” I say sheepishly. “Your costume is nice.”

Her expression doesn’t budge. “Can I speak with Jude, please?” 

I heat up with shame and embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry.” I say. Maybe she saw us taking those photos. Maybe she heard what I said about Elvis. Unable to meet her eyes, I excuse myself to go wandering around the party, somewhere, anywhere away from her boyfriend, who I certainly shouldn’t have been retroactively planning a couples costume with. What was I thinking? But he’s so confusing, sometimes I don’t know where his boundaries are. 

There’s a nice group of pretty girls in the lounge who switch to english as soon as they realise I can’t understand them, and I sit and talk with them for a while, learning all of the gossip about Leon’s rich dad, and what he allegedly does with all of his big heaping mounds of cash. They say that Leon takes photographs of models in his studio upstairs for work, while Elias, five years younger and still in college, studies painting and has a dedicated studio in one of the rooms too. I’m curious about it, and vow to sneak up there later to see if I can get a look at it. 

On the whole, people here are very friendly and inviting, and after talking to the nice girls in the lounge I dance to some psychedelic rock with another group of people, whose goofy moves make me laugh so much that I think I might throw up. Everyone is cool, but everyone is kind to me in a way that makes me think that they believe I am cool too, and none of them has even thought to question it. I like this place, I like the version of me that these people are meeting tonight, and think about how if I could erase all of my history, and everybody’s memory of who I used to be, I’d probably be this cool, laidback girl all of the time. 

“It’s so interesting that you’re an illustrator.” The American girl dressed as Cher says as she spins me around on the floor to Season of the Witch. “I should follow you on Instagram. Do you share your work on there?”

“Yes!” I say, and explain to her about how I’m doing my first mural, and how I’ve done window art and cards for a while now. It’s all on my page, and when she nods along with interest I really believe that she cares, she wants to know, and she isn’t just pretending to. As soon as I walk away to get another drink I get a notification that she’s followed me. When I enter the kitchen to find Claire I spot her giggling with Jonas. He says something to her that makes her snort and thump him in the arm, and I kind of feel like I shouldn’t be witnessing them. If they’re flirting with each other, I’m not sure I want to deal with it now. The concept of her having eyes for anybody but Shane is depressing to me. In the corner of the room Jude and Astrid are still talking, but neither of them looks particularly pleased about it. I find myself thinking about what Jen said about her, and how she’s never been any fun, and as I watch them for a brief moment I consider whether Jude is any fun around her either. They look far too intense for that, huddled like that with drooping shoulders and miserable expressions like they’re gathering for a friend’s untimely death rather than his fabulous birthday party. I just take another beer and wander away. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[talentforlying]

inspection/needs ( combo i cannot pick )

[ inspection ] sender holds receiver's face while inspecting an injury they got [ needs ] sender asks receiver what they need

there's something in him that fucking burns.

part of him always thought it would go away with time, with just the right amount of something — like balancing scales, like robbing fire of oxygen by smothering it. alcohol, cigarettes, people. FIGHTS.

tonight has been a burning night, where the pyre in him roars so loud it drowns all common sense; where one taunt becomes ten, becomes twenty, and suddenly he's the eye of a maelstrom made of fists and fury, laughing into the sticky floor as he goes down again and again and again. still grinning as chas hauls him out the back door by the scruff of his coat and shoves him into the back of the cab, snarls at him to wipe that fucking smirk off your face as if a part of him didn't feel the rush, too. as if the things that burn in him don't sear up chas as well.

he knows it's meant to be punishment, bringing him to the house. to lilly. it's because he loves her, see. because chas knows he's always been shit-scared of showing the people he loves all the real worst parts of him, underneath the magic and the mayhem and the mystery. of course, he loves chas, too, but that's different. chas has always known these things about him. it's why they're friends. it's why chas sticks around.

she opens the door, and all there is is a sigh, slow and long, and her eyes are more tired than they are afraid or angry or sad, and . . . yeah. it's a punishment.

he's still burning later in the kitchen, seated on the counter with bruised fingers locked rigid around the edges of the tile, while she stands between his legs and presses wet cloth to every stinging place, every sun spot and solar flare. her other hand is gentle on his hip, but the line of her mouth is hard like diamond and he's close enough to see every time she bites the inside of her cheek, chewing something into silence. every instinct says to flay the secret out for the fire to eat, to make this HURT, to layer fresh hits over barely-old ones, but he knows it won't do any good; they're too intertwined, these days. so intricately bound that a fight would only draw them closer together in their attempts to fix it later — would only make the scars left by their sharp edges something to map in the dark, when it mattered a little less.

he's so lost in the inferno that he hardly notices when the cloth goes away and her fingers come back empty, pushing sweat-damp hair away from his forehead and carding all the way down to the nape of his neck, where they scratch, softly, like petting a cat. the sensation pools in his chest like a good stiff drink, sizzles along the surface of the blaze and cuts through the buzz still rattling along his back teeth; he has to close his eyes against the sudden, heady rush of stillness, chin bowing to his chest, her touch suffusing every limb. he is so heavy. how can she stand beneath the weight.

it could be days, or months, or years before her knuckles trail a path along his aching jaw and tip his chin back up, coaxing his gaze along with it. she still looks tired, tracing every new contusion and fresh abrasion, pressing light to test their depth and sending frissons of sharp and sore spidering through his skull like sickness. how long has it been since she left the house, lately? how long since she smiled at him and there wasn't something masked behind her eyes? the burning in him eats the meaning in little things, like time between and time apart, but he still remembers every one, and when it ought to matter more. remembers that they've been trying this for so, so long and they can never seem to get it right. he can never seem to get it right.

her fingers mold to the curve of his cheek and she's looking right into him, now, with understanding. she's been burning too, he knows, in ways he can't begin to fathom, and she still takes this time to try and save him from his pyre. does she know he'd steal the kindling out of hers, if he had the strength to carry it all? does she know he'd drink the petrol if the blaze would keep her warm? or does she only know he'd fail, in the end, to make any sort of difference at all, except in the degree to which he scorches her when she tries to keep him close?

' what do you need, john? ' half a question, half a platitude. like she doesn't think she'll ever like the answer. like she doesn't think he'll ever really know.

( there's something eating him up like a poison and he thinks it's his father. )

his head tips to trap her fingers between cheek and shoulder, bloody lip leaving smears where he kisses the fate line of her palm. the tendons flex, then still; he curls his fingers around her wrist, her pulse like a bird he's trapped, kisses his toxin off of every inch of skin and buries his face in the well of mercy that he is steadily filling up with red and raw and burning shame.

i'm sorry, i'm too old for this.

i'm sorry, i don't want to be this way.

i'm sorry, i don't mean to keep hurting you.

i'm sorry, i keep trying to get rid of it and it won't go away, i'm pulling him out of me shard by shard and it's not doing any good, i didn't think it would still ache this fucking badly, i'm sorry —

( please, please, please forgive me. keep forgiving me. just this once. just over and over again. )

' hold me. ' his voice splinters like fractal lines in crystal, and her fingers curl against his bruises with a scrape of nail on stubble that warns but doesn't retreat, and there are purple-blue-black universes warping his skin but none are so kind and so undeserved as her eyes.

@asteritm / NON-VERBAL ANGST PROMPTS ( always accepting )

[theadventurerslog]

Discworld | Part 2

The Adventurer's Log

After getting the list of ingredients for the dragon lair finding spell last time, I did another sweep of the University and it's a good thing I did.

First of all in the kitchen I found a bunch of a bananas that I'm sure weren't there before and I was able to take one banana. Of course, I tried giving the banana to the Librarian, which he did eat, but otherwise nothing came of it. I went back to grab another banana to keep.

Then I went back to double check the dining hall. There wasn't much more I got from most of the wizards there, except good ol' Windle Poons. I realized I could interact with his staff. His staff he was occasionally firing off magic with. His staff with a knob on the end. Just like the staff listed in the ingredients. I tried taking it just to see what would happen and got a little blasted, but it''s okay. Rincewind's fiiine. Instead, I wondered if I could swap the broom for the staff--Poons isn't exactly attentive and fairly deaf. It worked! Sorry Poons... It's for a good cause?

I wondered if I could drop the ingredients off as I found them with the Archchancellor, so I wouldn't have them cluttering up inventory space, and indeed you can do so. One ingredient down!

I then headed out into the grounds where I met an apprentice eating prunes and who also knew how to open the gates as the right spell was needed. Conversation led to him showing Rincewind the correct finger wiggles so I could get out.

The glasses make me wonder if he's meant to be Ponder Stibbons, but I have no idea. I'm also wondering if the prunes will ever come into play.

Before I left though, there was a path leading round the back where I found a knobless door, a window too high up to reach and bags of fertilizer. I, of course, took a bag of fertilizer: "New improved Wonder Grow - grows anything, new instant formula."

Then I took off to be faced with a slightly intimidating city map.

Behold, Ankh-Morpork. There were several locations. And sometimes the dragon would fly over and set fire to some buildings, but the fires would get put out. All good.

I had no idea where to start so I just picked a place and went for it. I chose poorly. My first stop was an inn and it was a bust: a locked door, a window and a tree and nothing I could deal with.

Next up: a park. Also a bust with a lamp, bench and sign.

Then because I just had to know, I tried The Shades. The Shades are a terrible place, so I wondered what would happen if I tried.

After Twoflower's little aside to remind me of its terribleness, Rincewind also said he wouldn't go in there without a very good reason and skedaddled. So, technically a bust, but an expected one.

I carried on to an alleyway, which is oh so much better in retrospect. Okay, in comparison to the Shades, yeah, but still... especially after seeing crispy fried drunk in the intro. Anyway I was treated to quite a display from an assassin.

The assassin just swanned off doing whatever he was doing and I was able to explore.

Well, I tried to explore the alleyway, but there was some kind of springy magic(?) tile that launched Rincewind to the rooftops instead. That's exploration as well I suppose.

I had a brief chat with a chimney sweep, found a note that read this was an assassins' training course, and found a ladder I was able to knock down to be caught by the Luggage, yum yum. There was a building with a window I could enter and get back down to street level.

With the ladder I thought I could try checking out that high window at the Unseen University. It did work and I was able to see into kitchen. The chef there was flipping a pancake that went all the way up to Rincewind, and in fact, even higher. I could try to catch it, but Rincewind just repeatedly fumbled it. I figured I'd need some kind of bag or something to actually catch it in.

So, I carried on with my city exploration and went to a Street. Just a street, but one with a few things to do.

First: a toy shop! I got a purple donkey toy and a...and a...

I cannot escape the twine! From Sam & Max to Discworld the ball of twine haunts me.

The toy shop owner also seemed to have a thing for conspiracies and the possibility of my involvement with efforts to overthrow the Patrician. Why not I guess.

I was able to leave with the toy and ball of twine without seeming to ever pay. I wonder if I could have done that if I hadn't found the money pouch. Sadly, I'm lacking a save file I can test with.

I also found a fishmonger and a back alley beside him. The alley had an outhouse and empty fish crates. I could do nothing with either except make Rincewind appalled at the idea of doing anything with the toilet. I didn't get much out of the fishmonger either. He's got a big conspicuous swordfish; maybe that'll be important later?

Continuing along the street there was a barbershop where the barber was doing some work with a woman and daydreaming of a milkmaid. I didn't find much I could do here either yet.

And finally the last thing I did on the street was have a discussion with a beggar that ultimately consisted of Rincewind telling him he needed to work on his appearance to look like more of a beggar if he wanted people to actually give him money. And there was a whole thing about giving status.

I wonder if the Beggar's Guild is in this game. This all seems like the sort of thing they ought to go over.

It was back to the map for me and my next location which was the Square, I assume meant to be Sator Square. Another place that had several things to do and look at.

Gaspode reference! Gaspode the Wonder Dog, the talking dog. He's in a few books.

Then there was the group of old fellow here who all seemed to be former Heroes. Of the battling gods, raiding tombs, Conan type. Maybe meant to be the Silver Horde? Or just playing off them and Cohen the Barbarian--more book characters. There was hero talk, destiny, bad jokes. You know, the works.

Carrying on I got a tomato from a rotten food stall, but most importantly--not to say new inventory is ever not important--I found CMOT Dibbler! That's Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler.

He was selling various dragon protection items of dubious value and of course the classic sausage-inna-bun.

A dragon detecting device. Just one of many 'useful' wares. Technically speaking it does do what it says... That dragon stuff was in the book too so I'm glad it made it here.

Just behind Dibbler to the side was the "Psychia-trickerist." Of course I popped in. There was a waiting room with a grumpy receptionist, and sitting by was a woman and a troll. A conversation between the Psychia-trickerist and clearly the Librarian could be overhead and they were discussing his monkey rage. I haven't mentioned it, but the whole "monkey" thing did come up more times even in the city and sigh. Honestly the fact it could happen a few times just in one conversation with him was running the joke into the ground in my mind. That this keeps happening is just dropping it down those six feet.

Anyway, I couldn't seem to do very much without the receptionist yelling at me to sit down, so I took the remaining seat and was able to talk to the troll. I couldn't reach the woman though, because the troll was in the centre seat and the grumpy receptionist wasn't letting me even talk to anyone while standing... There was also a butterfly net on the wall behind the troll. The net sounded like a likely candidate for pancake catching but because of the troll I couldn't reach it. I ended up leaving for now.

My next stop was another back alley area this time with a giant machine and rubber belt and chickens... I met the man in charge of it and it's for taking care of sewerage.

There was a character in the books that was in charge of taking in the 'night soil' - Harry King, King of the Golden River. He didn't exist yet by this point though, so it's interesting to see this and their own take on the whole affair.

Icky but necessary. And also another place it didn't seem like I could do much with yet.

Back in the square I chatted with a street urchin, or as the conversation developed, street starfish. She tried to sell me a pouch which turned out to be my own pouch but after some back and forth she taught me to pick pockets.

Though after learning it in which pink bloomers were stolen from one of the old guys, I haven't found another use for it yet.

Hopefully I won't forget about it when I do need it. It acts like an inventory item, the icon sitting in Rincewind's personal inventory.

I also spoke to one Red Sorghum. I'm assuming this is a play on the comic book character, Red Sonja by her appearance and name though I know very little about Red Sonja. (Red Sorghum is also the name of a Chinese movie too, I discovered, while double checking Red Sonja was who I was thinking).

She's on a quest and will marry only the man who can equal her in combat. However, she's also under a geas to suffer no insult from any man, including the likes of wolf whistles, lingering looks and passing thoughts of attraction. So, she's been fighting and killing a whole lot of people and is generally bored and disgruntled. And Mothra isn't terribly interesting either and on top of that gave her a magic sword. She can't stop with the whole thing though due to the curse.

I imagine that'll all come into play at some point somehow but for now we move on to go taunt the tax man in the stocks there with puns.

No real purpose served here either, but it's fun.

Before I left the area I went back to the Psychia-trickerist. I still wanted to see if there was a way to get that net or talk to the woman. Now, I don't know if something I did triggered something or if it's random, or just leaving and coming back was enough, but whatever the case the troll had changed seats leaving the middle seat free for Rincewind. I was free to talk to the woman AND grab the butterfly net.

The woman is wearing a milkmaid's outfit and gave herself a tragic backstory about a lost love, because she's gotta have some reason to be here. I'm thinking I may be able to connect her with the barber though I have no particular reason to do so right now, beyond the option possibly existing. Then again isn't doing something because you can reason enough?

But first I had that net which meant it was time to go see about that pancake again.

I was thinking if I could catch the pancake maybe the cook would leave to see what was going on, or put down the pan for the grabbing with no more pancake to flip. Or I'd just get a pancake.

I had to put Rincewind's personal inventory to use since the Luggage wasn't going to be coming up the ladder with me. I'm just glad I remembered to grab the net before heading up.

The butterfly net did work. It took me several tries though and I was starting to get worried I had the wrong idea.

The cook got mad with wizards and spells and antigravity in general and went off to complain leaving his pan behind, so I wasn't exactly correct on the reasoning, but I got the end results I wanted. I wandered back to the kitchen and fetched the pan and that's another spell ingredient acquired: one container made of the strongest ferros metal for me. While I was there anyway, I brought it to the Archchancellor as well. I didn't get to keep the pancake.

Assuming I haven't missed a place on the map I had two locations left that I hadn't checked at all: the palace and the city gate. I tried going to the palace first. It felt like a place I maybe should have gone for immediately, while at the same time it felt like a place that might be too guarded for me to do anything with. Either way figured it was about time to find out.

I was blocked off by a couple guards chatting about their wives and stuff. When I talked to them one of the dialogue options led to one smacking the other and I was able to head on in while they sorted out their grumps and chaos.

I found a line of people and the Patrician and another little Twoflower aside about the Patrician.

They haven't named him yet, but I know he should be Lord Vetinari. It took some time for him to fully solidify in the earliest books, but once he did he's a great character. I'm curious to see how he's handled here...

Which is what will happen next time! I've got a line of people to talk to and the Patrician to attempt to speak with. I also have the city gate to check out left too. And in the meantime I've gotten 2/4 of the spell ingredients and a whole lot of exploring done, so not bad at all.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness - Redux 1. True Beauty

Brown, stained walls, littered with posters of propaganda, advertisements for open positions and services, and local restaurants. Open pipes protruding from the ceilings and poking out from corners of the walls, dripping with sour, bronze fluid.

Such impressions betrayed the exterior, glazed in a silver, metallic sheen and a sprawling military outpost dubbed ‘state of the art’.

Crowds of personnel in white and teal uniforms, some in blue berets crowded about the main hall. Many, in those same uniforms, sat in offices and at desks next to PCs which looked to be from the 1980s. All of the seated individuals wore dull expressions, and while some in the middle of the halls laughed and chatted with each other, crowding around various poles and fixtures, the whole atmosphere was stiff. Vague, elevator muzak, would have been more inviting.

This is where the action happens. The place where I can make a difference.

That was the halfhearted thought of a scrawny, moderately tall beauty in a purple, open leather jacket and dark, skinny jeans. While he kept his thoughts optimistic, his true feelings, like the true ethereal beauty that he was, flowed through. Apprehension, a stiff limp, and darting eyes.

He ran his fingers through his silky, silver hair and let it flutter about.

There he stood: the intersection between a collage of suits and blurry faces. Traffic which gave the young man a dizzying spell. While there was a map in the middle of the hall intersection, there were too many people to make out anything, even if he were to lean over someone’s shoulder.

On his phone, the time showed that it was still half an hour before his scheduled appointment. He still remembered the words ‘arrive 15 minutes early’ pounded against the front of his mind. Such aching words, and yet he drew a slow, deep breath, before exhaling and smiling. He still wasn’t late.

Down the hall, his heels continued to tap against the laminated tiles. Some of which had dark, brown and black stains. Likely mold or coffee spills. Little concern. To his left, against a wall, he noticed two vending machines: those humming, black boxes, one housing sugary drinks, and the other, salty snacks. At that same moment, two other things happened: first, his stomach growled in a rude and unceremonious manner, loud and to the point of hanging his head in shame. The other thing...he was not witness to. But there was a conversation happening, not far from the vending machines, about the exam to be the next commander at this institution.

“Any candidates stick out to you?” One tall man, with gray, thinning hair and glasses, asked a woman in that same teal uniform as him. She had bushy, brown hair, and thick, bushy brown eyebrows. From a distance, she was autumn leaves. But to most, she was simply known as Ms. Temerity.

“If you’re asking me to bet on a winner, I’m not about to go for broke on anyone. There’s some lady named Sapphire who seems interesting, though when I saw her picture, it showed her having crimson hair. What’s up with that?”

“A female commander? That’ll be the day,” the man chuckled.

“Hey, I’m just telling you who’s interesting, not who I think will win. If you ask me, most of these guys who become commander are a dime a dozen in terms of looks and personality.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t the kind of place I imagine a lady being in. Aside from the Selkies, of course.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Temerity smirked.

“Yeah, as an overseer. Your whole job is to look over applicants, not take part in the action. Shouldn’t you have any idea who has a chance of making it?”

Again, that smirk. No sense of hostility, even as her words dripped out like a vial of poison.

“Most of the time, paper tells us nothing. We gotta see ‘em in action, don’t we?”

She turned her head.

This time, the young man looked up, and locked eyes with the woman known as ‘Temerity’. Her void of eyes, a swirling expanse. At first, he thought they were brown like her hair, but instead, they were more like a spectrum starting with red and ending in green. Turtle Dove, whose eyes were as silver as his hair, stood frozen and with a hint of envy.

Again, his stomach growled.

“Ah, Mr. Incense, can you hold on a minute?”

“Oh. Uh. Sure,” Mr. Incense, the tall man, turned to Turtle Dove. “Nice to meet you, Miss, by the way.

Turtle Dove opened his mouth, but could barely make out more than a croak.

No. It’s best not to correct him. He could be in a position of authority, and I’ve already made an embarrassment of myself.

Temerity walked over to the vending machine and inserted a couple of coins. Instead of a rumble, there was a slight clink, and then...nothing.

Temerity, who just a moment ago was calm, kicked at the bottom of the vending machine. It shook and slammed itself against the wall. She once again sent her boot against the machine in two more swift kicks, until finally, a bag of chips flew out of the chute. She grabbed onto the bag and upon returning to face Turtle Dove, he couldn’t help but stare at the heaviness of her chest as they swayed, the uniform not doing any favors to compress her soft, plump breasts in any way.

Yet her stomach below looks so small. If I had breasts that size, I would be ten, no, twenty pounds heavier. How does she get away with it? He thought.

“Here you go,” she tossed the bag his way, and he caught it with ease, his reflexes being one of the few parts of his body not to betray him.

“How did you know?” He asked, able to speak at last.

“I have keen ears,” she pointed to her earlobes. “It’s not much, but should help. You know, in some parts of the world, they’re called crisps, but you can call them chips. Or crisps.”

“Thanks,” he was about to open the bag, but was stopped as soon as she spoke up again.

“You’re Turtle Dove, right? Looking for where to go? Yeah, I imagine those people up front are quite rude. No one ever really stops for others here. Just turn around, and head to the hall to your right. You should find a sign pointing to ‘commander applicants.’ There’s a waiting room. Good luck!”

Wow. I could barely get a word in, but she seems nice.

He turned around and followed her instructions while fiddling around with the bag of chips in his hand. It didn’t take him long to find the waiting room, which was just a small corner, with an orange carpet in the middle and oak, double doors at the end. There was someone sitting at a chair between the double doors with long, straight, black hair and a black, lace dress as well as thick, wool knee socks. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be dozing off. Assuming she was a potential opponent vying for the position of commander, he paid her no mind. He took a seat against the right side of the wall, near the edge so he could still look out into the hall. Across from him were two young men sitting next to each other each with their phones out, volume loud and blasting some fast, electronic music as sound effects like the whirring of chainsaws and moaning played from the glow of their screens. The two boys would look at each other’s screens, react to whatever it was they were watching or playing, and yell.

“DUUUDE! You got her?! How?”

“I whaled. No big deal.”

“Ugh. She’s my wife, but I don’t have any gems.”

“Just use your credit card, bro.”

Those two seemed really close, whether they were friends, brothers, or lovers. Their passion, even if it was for a silly game, was palpable, and made Turtle Dove’s heart beat harder than it did when he first walked through the inviting, yet cold sliding glass door which led into the military base. If it was between him, that dark haired woman, and those two guys...how would he ever win?

Turtle Dove had no answer, and just held tight to his meager chest and whispered to himself a mantra:

“Remember why you’re here...remember…”

He kept trying to repeat those words as he could still taste the sand in his mouth and the dry, desert heat. Back when two, silver haired siblings would play ball and laugh and smile. Her smile, the one which he always looked forward to. But even then, he couldn’t picture his face, and instead only felt a stinging sensation across his cheeks, as if being mangled and eaten alive and a sticky, steamy breath against his own. It was all so wrong.

As the air became more suffocating and he broke into a cold sweat, he was returned to reality through a mere tap on the shoulder. He looked up to see Temerity once more with a taut smile upon her face.

“You look tense,” she said.

“It’s just my first time, is all,” he explained. “It seems like everyone else here is so much more experienced than I am.”

“Don’t worry. Everyone’s first time is awkward.” She reassured.

“Maybe. But what if I don’t know what I’m doing while the others do? I mean, they probably practiced more than I have.”

“From my own assessment, you’re the second most interesting person who’s signed up for the qualification exam, Turtle Dove.”

“Who’s the first?”

“No one you need to worry about. She’s probably a flake. No sign of her all day.”

Turtle Dove’s eyes widened.

“That’s right! You work here, don’t you?” He realized, remembering her uniform and the fact that she was speaking with another military personnel.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Could you give me any advice?”

Her eyes widened, as if he broke a sacred vow, before narrowing, and her thin smile widening in a grin which almost showed off her teeth.

“Stand up,” she commanded.

“What?”

“I don’t bend the knee to anyone. Stand up and listen close.”

He did as he was told while his heart pounded. He chalked it up to excitement. As they stood next to each other, she leaned her head into his until their foreheads touched. While he thought it would be a warm encounter, instead he felt a chill. Out the corner of his eye, the surrounding area vanished into a swirling darkness, the two boys becoming a deep, purple blob. He shut out such images and in the same instance, her hand pressed down on his left shoulder and her fingers dug in deep. His shoulder bone, akin to aluminum foil, crumpled and he was rendered silent, the only sound around him a crack before he listened close to her harsh rasp:

“They may look like women, they may elicit feelings of respect as equals, but once you do, it’s all over. For they are not women, and in fact, they are not human at all. Remember this, and you shall go far.”

Light returned to Turtle Dove’s surroundings and he fell back into his chair, his shoulders still aching.

“You!” He stared up in fear, his voice trembling.

She simply smiled and waved.

“Well, good luck!”

“Wait! Who did you mean?”

“Not who. What. And if you haven’t figured it out, you soon will.”

He shuddered as she walked away. Realizing that all this time, his chips went uneaten, he crushed them in the bag, then poured the contents into his mouth. Salty, lacking in real sustenance, but all the more worth it on his tongue.

Remember why you’re here, Turtle Dove repeated while conjuring images of his sister from one year ago, how she was taken by Correctors. In spite of this, he couldn’t remember her name nor her face.

[sacred-stanning]

Chapter 19 Part 3: Uh...oops!

During enemy phase, the green unit Armor Knights get summarily taken out by the enemy Druids.

I don't think I've ever seen these guys survive this map.

Tana gets attacked too, but she's fine. 13 hit, lol

Yeah, the four green units on the left start very close to enemies, and they are pathetically bad, so they're lucky if they can make it even to turn 2.

During player phase, I move Knoll to the tile with the Secret Shop. Oh boy!

The shop has cool things like Physic Staves, stat boosting items, and promotion items.

Oh, but remember how I forgot to give anyone torches before starting the map? Well, that wasn't my only inventory screw up.

I also forgot to make space in my convoy, so after buying just a couple things, I hit the 100 item limit and couldn't buy anything else.

:(

Anna: "Ha ha ha ... You're convoy is full. Clean it up and come visit again, ok?"

Anna, I'd like to, but this map has a turn limit, and I can't access secret shops from the world map...

:(

So that was disappointing. I considered starting the map over, but then I decided to play it out a bit more to see where the enemies were...and I just ended up finishing the whole map in the end! So I missed out on some stat boosters I could have bought.

The right group, with Rennac and Gerik, gets rid of the Axe Fighters.

On the left, Lute takes out a Druid, and Ross finishes off a hurt General.

Oh, cool, the General drops the Brave Lance! Ross picks it up and...

Oh, right, my convoy is full. I guess I'll toss out his 5 use Iron Axe...

Ephraim wraps things up down here by getting the other Druid.

Up top, Franz has caught up to the small group and can help them out now.

L'Arachel, Eirika, and Seth take care of the two Armor Knights...

And Cormag targets the Myrmidon. There's some risk in putting here where the archer could attack him during enemy phase, but I work under the assumption that the enemies will prioritize the easy to kill green units over even shooting a bow at a flier.

God, these green units are worthless except as meat shields.

I forget exactly what happened here, but I'm pretty sure the archer took out the other green unit, just like I predicted.

And here are some action shots because why not?

Ross eats a Brave Sword (ouch), Ephraim kicks ass, and Franz laughs at the sight of pathetic, little arrows.

Next time: Finally, Myrrh!

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 16: Temples, Legions, and Other Fun Things

Cassandra woke up after falling off the couch onto her head. Above the cold tiles of the apartment was a red carpet which thankfully broke her fall. She let out an audible groan as she stared at the white ceiling. She tried getting comfortable on the couch next to Julian, but he was rearranged in such a way that getting into a sleeping position that didn’t require straight up contortion was impossible.

She checked her phone. No weather forcing the grands to move and change the time, so it was still 5AM like she expected.

“Yo, Julian.” She whispered. No response. Sleeping Julian was little more than a handsome brick, same as usual.

She looked for paper, hoping that Dakarai didn’t already replace it with a calculator that leaves notes or some high-tech future crap like that. She found a bunch of paper, both new and balled up, by the wooden table in Dakarai’s dining room. So she left a note and placed it on Julian’s forehead.

‘going out, call me if you need me. Cass.’ With a little heart by the end for a dash of affectionate professionalism.

Cassandra stepped out into the Inariu morning. The housing platform near the top had a pleasant breeze surrounding it, and the sun was rising without a bad cloud in sight. It was going to be a good day. She checked the map looking to see if there was a church nearby, and luckily there was. Nearby the housing levels too. It was apparently an addition to main housing block three. She was on housing block four, so she walked across the small metal tunnel connecting the blocks, and then on the thin metal walkway connecting block 3 and the church.

It was a pretty small church. A stone building that looked like it was built by Gurut handymen a long time ago. Three pillars stood between her and the door, with a triangular yellow roof at the top. The perfect place for a roof.

She walked into the stone temple, where statues of the twelve Olympian gods lay, even if some were in worse condition than others. Aphrodite didn’t even have a head, for a start. And Poseidon was missing an arm. But the others only had a couple of scratches at most. Including Apollo, her favourite of the bunch.

“Apollo.” She whispered. “May your gift of prophecy guide us to a better future in these trying times.”

She also felt like offering a prayer to Artemis, but losing the most important bow in the world might make relations between the two a little iffy. But thinking of weapons, Zeus was there, all thundery. She could pray to him seeing as she had his powerset now.

“Zeus.” She whispered. “May you give us the strength to fight off our enemies.”

Inside herself, she felt relieved. She was a holy warrior of sorts now, so talking it out with some divine individuals made her feel a little better.

But just as she was about to walk out, a robed figure walked into the building. Then another. And more piled in until twelve hooded figures were in the building. And all of them seemed to be staring at her.

“Oh, hey.” Cassandra said calmly, taking a step back. “Have I…interrupted something? Because if so, I can totally just leave.”

She gave an awkward smile as she tried to walk out of the church. But just as she was about to leave, two of the larger members of the group walked in front of the door.

“Hey, mind explaining what I walked in on?” Cassandra asked, watching as the other members of the group surrounded her. One member stood between the two large members.

“State your name!” The one in the middle commanded, in a booming voice.

“It’s…Megan.” Cassandra replied slowly. The people in the circle kept their distance, not doing anything yet. But just letting them know her name seemed like a pretty bad idea.

“Lies!” The hooded figure yelled. “You’re the one working against the Legion!”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” She asked.

One of the members from behind her reached under her arms and held her. She kicked back, causing the person to let her go. She tried running out, only for one of the large people to punch her in the face, with another man dragging her to the ground.

“Tell me, miss.” The middle man began, removing his hood and revealing a scrawny looking black man underneath. “Why is it that you fight for the current weapon holders?”

“Because the Legion are terrorists!” Cassandra yelled, trying to get out of the man’s weight.

“And what of the Lucians?” He asked. “Are you aware of what they’re hiding?”

“I don’t know anything!” Cassandra screamed, getting out and standing up to meet him. “I just found the axe!”

“Listen, all you have to do is join the Legion. Once initiated, we’ll work to expose the-“

That was as far as he got before Cassandra punched him in the face. He fell to the ground with one punch, wheezing in agony. Another member tried approaching her from behind, but she managed to sidestep them and land a kick to their stomach. Another member revealed a set of claws and dug them into her back. She managed to stay upright, making another bolt towards the door. The larger member once again grabbed her and threw her back into the crowd. But just as she tried getting up again, a clanging noise was heard from behind the man. And then he fell forward.

Cassandra looked forward, and the girl revealed herself. It was the same girl who was in Dakarai’s waiting room.

“Cassandra?” She asked.

“Metal girl?” Cassandra replied.

“What’s going on here?” The girl asked, looking at the people surrounding her. She pressed a button on her arm, and it formed into a blunter form that looked like a baseball bat.

“I have no idea.” Cassandra replied.

“Well, I’ll help you with whatever it is.” She said calmly, swinging her hand into the second large man, knocking him out cold.

The other members seemed to look at each other through their hoods. Three of them tried to lunge towards Cassandra, who leapt out of the way. Cassandra dashed behind one and kicked them in the back, forcing them to the ground. One of the others kicked her as hard as they could in the stomach, forcing her to her knees. The girl ran up to the other two and bashed them in the heads with her bat. The others ran out of the church as soon as possible, with the largest remaining taking their leader with them.

“Gosh…thanks.” Cassandra said in between breaths, desperate to remind her insides how breathing worked.

“No problem.” The girl replied worryingly, looking to the walkway where all of them were running.

“We going after them?”

“They’ll disperse and try to blend into the crowd. I’ll report them later, but we should at least be fine for today.”

“Okay…cool.” Cassandra gasped, standing upright to make one final inhale to fix her lungs. “Thanks…I forgot your name.”

“Chizoba.” She replied.

“Cool. So, what brings you here?”

“Well, I’m just waiting for Dakarai to set up shop, so I decided to swing by here and see what was up.”

“Didn’t take you for the religious type.” Cassandra said.

“I’m not, the place just looked nice. Stonework is kinda rare around these parts, so I just wanted to see what it was.”

“It’s a temple to the Olympian gods. Pretty small and run down, but all the fan favourites are there.”

“Fan favourites?”

“The twelve main ones, anyway. If you got the time, I’ll guide you through them and show you the…”

She was cut off by her phone buzzing in her back pocket. She answered it and heard Ola’s voice on the other end.

“This is Cassandra, right?” She asked quickly.

“Yeah.” Cassandra replied.

“Okay, great.” Ola said just as quick. “If you want to try out one of the guns, come to my place on level one.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Cassandra nodded as she left the call.

“Who was that?” Chizoba asked.

“Ola. She wants me to come over and test out the guns she’s got.”

“The new weapons the soldiers here have? Mind if I come?”

“You think she’ll let you in?”

“I mean, I feel the need to report what happened to her.”

“Right. I’ll vouch for you anyway, so let’s get going."