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klerothesnowman · 2 months

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I'm probably going to post nerdy little rants about star wars every other day now and it's probably going to be related to KOTOR because my dumb ass plays a KOTOR roleplaying server on Neverwinter Nights and I need to get this energy out before I explode on the server group chat.

So like, the Jedi were completely right about the Mandalorian Wars, right?

I mean the time they sat back and watched while the Mandalorians killed a whole lot of people and then told Revan and other Jedi they're doing it wrong when they went out to stop it.

I know KOTOR2 tries to twist it to say that Revan was right for going against the council and fighting the Mandalorians, but that doesn't really sit right with me.

This is a really controversial one, so bare with me. But there's no way that the Jedi were watching what was happening and going "Hrm. We will just let that happen and do nothing." It's been a hot minute since I played KOTOR but if I recall the High Council was planning something before Revan went and Revan'd all over everything.

I feel like the Mandalorian Wars were not an existential threat to the Republic. I'm sure they felt like one, but these guys were just then adopting the idea of logistics and support lines, and one of the neat little themes kotor was pushing was that the Sith Empire and the Neo-Crusaders were basically the same thing. So if the Sith Empire is destined to collapse into infighting and betrayal, then it's ergo facto that the Neo-Crusaders likely would too. Maybe a leap to make, but I feel confident in saying that the Mandalorians maybe wouldn't have lasted. Killing a dude and stealing his mask is a pretty poor method of choosing a government.

The Republic's main issue against the Mandalorians was that they were taken off guard, the campaign guide for the older rpg system also added a whole thing about how there was an economic crisis and to revitalize the economy the Republic was giving free security on shipping lines to publicly traded companies, but capitalists gonna capitalist and so Czerka and Pals were gaming the system causing the Republic military to be absurdly stretched out by the time the wars rolled around. That's probably not really canon in the games but it's a fun idea and I like it. Either way, The Republic was taken off guard. Was there really a point in the war where they were put *on guard*? Was it before or after Revan. Who's to say that Revan whipping the Republic into shape was more of a case of good timing than anything else?

So yeah, Mandalorian wars probably not an existential threat to the Republic but, again, I'm sure they felt like one. And then here comes Revan, getting people riled up, leading the armies, kicking ass, taking names, and fighting the bloodiest war the galaxy had ever fucking seen. Like, holy shit. There was a lot of blood. Dxun had soldiers throwing themselves on mines just to clear fields for people to run in and kill some more. It's gruesome. 10 Republic Troopers to kill 1 Mandalorian. That's the kind of K/D ratio Revan, hero of the Republic was cheering about.

That's just fucking insane isn't it? 10 to 1? Revan wasn't leading an army he was playing Imperial Guard in 40k. He would send out soldiers to die as "feints", including throwing people into minefields. Nice protecting the galaxy asshole, your tactics are responsible for killing so much of it.

And that's intentional, right? Even outside the ideas of "Revan was weakening the Republic so he could take it over" or "Revan was weeding out the weak so that the Republic could become strong enough to face the True Sith Empire" or whatever, it's just kind of the idea that Revan's tactics were brutal, aggressive and while they killed a lot of Mandalorians they also got a lot of Republic Troopers killed too.

It was never about protecting the galaxy.

One of Revan's tactics was to abandon planets to the Mandalorians, let them take it, so that they had to stretch their defensive line further. Then they'd attack and take the planet back, disregard what happens to the people still on the planet when that happens.

Revan's strategy was "Victory at all costs", and "Moral Shortcuts" were common place.

Revan's victories aren't described as "Defeating" the Mandalorians. He annihilated them.

Revan's name comes from Revanchist in universe. I'll give one guess on what that means.

It was never about protecting the galaxy, it was about killing Mandalorians. Emphasis on Never, no off screen Sith influenced Revan to act like this. This wasn't the result of Revan experiencing the horrors of war, it was the choice he made from the start. The Jedi didn't go to war to protect people, they didn't go to war to save the galaxy. They went to war to kill Mandalorians. To get Revenge.

This is why stuff like the Revan book bothers me, where the idea is that Revan went to war as a good little Jedi and was corrupted by evil Siths. Or KOTOR2, where they make Revan into a 4D chess playing super genius who actually never fell to the dark side kind of not really.

Revan going to war from the start was wrong. It was not the Jedi way.

#star wars #kotor #kotor 2 #mandalorian wars #revan #I'm going to keep talking about this stuff and no one can stop me #Everyone who got mad at “It's not about destroying what you hate it's about protecting what you love” in The Last Jedi are dum dums.#rambling

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sunset-a-story · 1 year

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Writer Q&A Tag Game!

I got tagged by @touloserlautrec on this one and you can see their answers here.

I'm not sure who hasn't gotten this one yet but I'm no pressure tagging @squarebracket-trick @captain-kraken @vsnotresponding & @tisiphonewolfe (and open tag)

1. What motivates you to write?

The whole absurdly-large scope of Sunset is going on in my head whether I'm writing it or not. You know when you have a song oppressively stuck in your head and the only thing that helps is to listen to the song all the way through? It's like that. If I don't write it out, my brain just churns it over and over on a loop.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

Ooo. Hrm. Here's something from Arc 2.

Gerrit's heart sank. The idea that this sort of attack was more than a sporadic phenomenon was a dreadful, heavy thing that he didn't have proper words for. But that was the benefit of telepaths--he didn’t have to. When Gerrit would normally have needed to look away, attempting to grasp his fingers around some sort of words that even remotely fit the gravity of what he was being told, instead he just looked at Penn and felt. Penn held his gaze for a moment and Gerrit felt a gentle nudge of his telepathy. Penn understood. “Go.” Penn clapped him on the back.

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

It's tough to pick! I'll say Marek just because I enjoy his antics and stalwart refusal to be a "serious corporate adult" while being one of the most competent people in the Corp. (Plus he and Baguette are a package deal.)

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

I guess I'd have to say planning/mapping the big picture. Sunset covers a lot of threads that all branch out to affect others down the line with cascading consequences. It's all connected somehow and I feel like I do a decent holding it all in my head.

(That and I think I can write some pretty damn funny dialogue to break up the tension of the rest of the story.)

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

The people! It's so amazing to meet so many supportive writers and get to get excited about everyone's projects. Listening to other rant about their oc babies brings me so much joy.

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I've been using StimuWrite 2 which has been a great motivating tool. It's a program helps to keep me focused and I can create a mini fake coffee shop background with it.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

I love our take on telepaths because it's not a matter of just hearing thoughts or seeing them like on a movie screen. It's synesthetic and young telepaths have to learn to translate this internal language.

Each telepath's experience is different. Penn's is heavily smell-based like information he takes into his body from outside. Jake's is more external with sounds and physical sensations pressing themselves onto his skin, wrapping around him. Reeve's is more internal with tastes and colors that flow from the backs of his eyes and down his throat like a liquid--so if his knack gets overwhelming it can make him feel like he's choking or drowning.

I like to think that how telepaths perceive their knack has an influence on them in the same way that what knack someone has will influence who they are. (This also makes conflict between telepaths really interesting to write!)

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Allow yourself to have fallow times where you aren't writing. That's part of the process. I think the saying is something like anything in nature that is producing endlessly without rest or renewal is dying.

Don't give up on your projects, write that shitty first draft, but don't beat yourself up with guilt when your brain needs a break.

#writer q&a tag #i would talk about telepaths for days

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thessalian · 4 months

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Thess vs The West Coast

I swore I was going to figure that stupid relic ruin out, and I did. With the usual bullshit I generally get with the jumping puzzles.

Right. Relic Ruin on the Long Coast. I at least got the lift powered up. Now I just need to get to crates for, like, stepping stones. Same as the Cauldrons.

Oh. I seem to have approached from a different direction this time. And ... I can climb the tower but of course I can't, just, pry some debris loose and get the gizmo. But ... I can jump to those?

...Barely, and after two attempts, I figure out it's easier to just glide there.

Crate plus Firegleam equals ... yeah, I know how this goes.

And of course I can't just get it straight into the lift. Fine. Down to the ground floor it goes and I'll do that whole fox / hen / grain puzzle. ...At least, once I get the first crate.

Okay, I know I'm supposed to be able to get to those handholds, but I can't see how from here.

Fine. I will unbend enough to watch a vid on it. Because there's an approach I am not seeing.

Aha. Directly behind everything else. Okay.Just have to hang a tighter left when I approach from the campfire.

And once again it WILL NOT LET ME JUMP.

Lemme try restarting from save.

Nope. Lemme try rebooting the game completely.

NOPE. Lemme see what this person in the video does from camera angle.

Not quite, buuuuuut ... there seems to be an order in which you press spacebar and D to move that way? I got it, anyway.

Yeah, thanks for arranging this in such a way that I literally cannot avoid taking damage from the boom.

Okay, just have to move the lights and get up there before they zip back. Now, this is precision timing, so lemme orientate myself properly before I even start.

And I can't use the Pullcaster on the lever if I orientate myself properly, so I'll get as close as I can and trust my ability to press buttons really fast to do the trick.

First attempt ... failure. I caught it just before it zipped back, with me clinging to the whole mess.

Second attempt ... success! Now, I probably don't have to running jump this gap but I'm going to do it anyway because like hell am I falling before I get this crate where I need it.

Aaaaaaaaand crate! I'm sure I did this completely backwards but fuck it. I have two crates, and two crates is all I need.

Crates in lift... Eh, I should probably pull that vent open now to save frustration later

First floor (second floor to you Americans), off with one crate.

Lift goes down... I go up.

Crate on first floor goes on lift roof. I go back down.

And UP I go.

And now I have to move the crate on the lift roof because it's too far from the handholds. But if I'd pushed it that far in, I wouldn't have had the space to climb up. MAKE UP YOUR MINDS.

Aaaaaaaand ... Valentine's Day! Over to Stemmur.

Hrm ... while I'm curious about what he makes of Valentine's Day, I want to see what he makes of Christmas.

"Those look almost like Fanghorns--" I'm not sure whether that's adorable or sad. I'm also not sure whether I want to explain to him that Fanghorns were designed to look rather a lot like reindeer (or, well, deer in general, but still).

Right. Gonna get a few more campfires up the coast before I start thinking main quest.

Acid Bellowback site still listed as "Unknown". I will have it be Known, and also kill me some Bristlebacks because why not?

...CLAMBERJAWS OUT OF NOWHERE THAT'S WHY NOT!

I didn't even see where they came from! It's like Glinthawks descending on scrap in Zero Dawn, but worse! Clamberjaws are quieter!

Right. Moving on ... campfires--

Wait. There's something glowy in my path, visible in the pre-dawn light. Focus on and...

Behemoth. Huh. Doesn't say anything about a site or a convoy. Well, except for the Shell-Walker convoy going up the path a bit further north. Better get it out of my way--

Clamberjaws AGAIN?!? Do they just materialise whenever I scrap something? What?!?

Right. That's done with, and ... Huh. Widemaws. And there's some greenshine down there, why not?

How far away can I be and still kill them?

Almost all the way up a mountain. AWESOME.

Oop. Didn't hit that third one so well. Watching it lumber trying to find a path to get to me is kind of hilarious. Buuuut I should put it out of its ... confusion, if not misery. POONK.

Why are Bellowbacks guarding this building? *checks map* Because it's going to be hella important later. Right. Okay. Might as well clear them out now to make it easier for me later.

Tideripper site. ...Now I know I don't have to upgrade any more armour because I have my Legendary Armour of Perfection, buuuut ... fuck it, Tideripper fins are a good thing, and upgrading armour is as good a reason as any to kill a thing.

Right. Not seeing it. Guess I better glide down there and-- INSTANT alert holy fuck.

Thankfully it's fairly far out to sea still so lemme set up this shock trap just in case.

Right. Safe enough, now I have time to scan and-- BOOM.

Oh. That's a good 3/4 of your health gone. Other reservoir on the neck and--

You didn't even attack me once, Mr Tideripper! ...Well, you weren't Apex, so I guess I should've expected you to go down fairly easy.

...Y'know what? I'm going to go back and investigate that building. Just to see what I can clear up before Quest Shit takes me there.

...............How the fuck did the Bellowbacks come back so fast?!? I POP YOU LIKE TICKS, YOU LUMBERING SHITHEELS! *POONK*

No datapoints yet, but a metal flower and some climbing.

Ah. 98% vendor trash by volume. What's downstairs?

Something I will have to engage with later, apparently, but cannot engage with now.

Okay, I'm done for now. Need a break, maybe some more coffee... And when I come back ... main quest?

Oof. No. I'm still missing a totem on the mainland. Should grab that first.

So, yeah, this early-afternoon was by and large finishing up some loose ends on the mainland. I admit, I love this interactive map.

#Thess plays video games #Thess liveblogs Horizon Forbidden West

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mlobsters · 7 months

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supernatural s14e10 nihilism (w. steve yockey)

was thinking about this yesterday, how crowley popped in to cas when lucifer had him locked up, and how they might try to manage something like that for dean

is that pam?? ugh i really liked her. wish she could have stuck around. weird how hrm. having feelings about this idea that sam and dean could even have something like this bar. like, an established place for them that wasn't underground in this weird sterile bougie bunker, but something that actually fits them. be up and around people, even if they're still hunting. so is this supposed to be like the djinn format, where it's taking his dream and trapping him?

DEAN How come you always have a boyfriend? PAMELA How come you only want what you can't have? DEAN Whoa. PAMELA Besides, you don't want me. You just like to flirt. I'm a psychic, so I kinda know.

cute and legit

the unfortunate monster teeth on this vampire made it so it's very obviously adr'd in when he's talking. maybe go back to just the occasional flashing of fangs with cg, guys 🥴

SAM Billie -- uh, uh, Death assigned a reaper to keep an eye on Dean and me. Her name is Jessica, and she is always -- WOMAN Hello. SAM Where's Jessica? WOMAN Well, my name's Violet. It's my shift. We have shifts now, because you mess up so, so many things.

cute and legit x2

SAM Okay, look, sorry, but we're stuck, okay? And Death owes us one after we fixed that whole Rowena thing. You know about that, right? VIOLET Oh, yes, the Rowena thing you started.

not sure i know about it though (have to consult the wiki) :S oh god, right. when rowena was trying to get crowley back. the great characterization flip flops of crowley, rowena and ketch

SAM Okay, listen. Back when Gadreel possessed me, he -- he created, uh, I don't know, like a -- like a fake world inside my head. But Crowley was able to force his way in, he showed me how to take control, and I drove the angel out.

oh, wait. did crowley do that twice? apparently so. i very distinctly remembered cas watching tv while crowley was trying to get him to cooperate lol. forgot he got in there for gadreel too

MICHAEL Yes, uh, put a chair against the door. That'll help. Nothing's changed. Either my monsters get here, or I break these chains. But tonight...everybody dies. And, Sam? The last thing you'll see is this pretty smile...as I rip you apart.

he's giving me keanu vibes again with his speaking voice/cadence as michael

SAM It's the, uh, messed up British Men of Letters thing they used to get inside people's heads. I figure if I can get in, maybe I can wake Dean up, get him to fight, you know, to force Michael out.

we're just gonna bring up a million things i have basically zero recollection of. ah yes, the thing that enabled the conversation with brainwashed-mary where dean told her that he had to be sam's mother, father, and brother. the conversation, i remember. context? nada

well i was asking where all the apocalypse world people and there they are. not sure why they're putting maggie at point of this operation but okay. we don't know anyone else and jim beaver isn't in this episode? lol

michael's daddy issues putting everyone's to shame. burn the multiverse to the ground

CASTIEL So much trauma in Dean's mind. So many scars. SAM Well, yeah. Dean's been through a lot, but he's strong. CASTIEL Sam...you've both been through a lot, and Dean is more than strong. What I meant was, if I knew...if I knew what I was looking for, I could just -- I could simply go to it. But because Michael has Dean trapped away, drowning, I have to wade through all of Dean's most terrible memories. SAM Cass, wait a second. Would Michael bury Dean in trauma? CASTIEL What do you mean? SAM I mean, Michael said it himself. The reason he left Dean in the first place was because Dean was fighting back so hard. CASTIEL So, if Michael wanted to keep Dean placated... SAM Dean thrives on trauma. I mean, he's had to his whole life, right? It keeps him alert, keeps him ready, but if I wanted to distract Dean, I-I... I'd give him something he's never had before. CASTIEL Contentment.

haha 🥲

this browsing through dean's traumatic and good memories, someone very nicely has them identified to episodes on the wiki

MICHAEL You don't mean that, Dean, not really. You may lie to them, but, deep down, I know you. I am you. You only tolerate the angel because you think you owe him, because he "gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition." Or whatever. But since then, what has he done? Only made mistakes, one after the other.

he kind of mocked cas's voice there and it's funny to me how he couldn't really pull it off in the way like.. if pellegrino did that line, totally would have worked. but to me, jackles's michael it just wasn't really hitting the right note :p

MICHEL And, Sam -- oh, Sam... You know, Dean was his happiest when you quit hunting, leaving him with your dad, just the two of them. See, deep down, he knows that you will always abandon him, again and again.

feels like it's been a long time since we thought about dean's insecurity over sam leaving. maybe like when sam found out about gadreel? i dunno. anyway. obviously just trying to get a rise out of him but i think these days they're pretty secure with each other in that respect.

glad they clarified via lecture from cas that jack used the soul magic to invoke the angel powers to zap the monsters because i didn't get that

locking michael in the fridge in your mind is going well i see

well of all the rehabbed characters, i'm glad for billie. since her hatred of them never really made much sense anyway

DEAN Rescuing Mom and Jack, helping out those other folks -- I'd say it was worth it. BILLIE And just look at you now. Do you remember visiting my reading room? The shelves and shelves of notebooks describing the ways you might die? DEAN Yeah. Upbeat classics. BILLIE Well, it's the funniest thing, but they've all been rewritten. They all end the same way now -- with the archangel Michael escaping your mind and using you as his vessel to burn down this world. DEAN All of them? BILLIE All of them. Except one.

is it a picture of rebar. is it some suicidal bullshit? hmm. get stabbed by lucifer wielding the archangel blade?

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 14x10 #steve yockey

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ryqoshay · 2 years

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How to Handle a Maki - Side Story: Legend of the Demon King Slayer

Primary Pairing: TsubaHono Side Pairing: AnjuErena Rating: G Words: 587 Fandom: Love Live Parent Fic: How to Handle a Maki AU: Fantasy RPG style Time Frame: ??? Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Legacy

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Author’s Note: Bonus 2nd entry for Oct 30th

Summary: Tsubasa, Anju and Erena encounter the next Demon King Slayer

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“That’s her?” Erena inquired, peering out from behind a tree.

“She’s cute.” Anju observed, earning a glare from her wife beside her. “Of course she’s not my type.” She stuck her tongue out at Erena. “But she might by someone else’s…” She glanced at the other woman with them.

Tsubasa watched the young woman guide her horse and cart along the road below them. Orange hair, tied off in a ponytail on one side. The Ho glyph was emblazoned in orange on her armor as well as a few places on her cart and tack. And she was singing, loudly to herself, in a crystalline voice that caused something to stir unexpectedly within Tsubasa.

But, most importantly, strapped to the woman’s back was a sword. Tsubasa could feel its aura from here. The Rex Interfectorem.

“There’s no doubt about it.” Tsubasa stated solemnly, ignoring Anju’s giggle as she intentionally interpreted the words wrong. “She fits the description perfectly. That girl is the legendary Demon King Slayer. She is destined to kill the Demon King.”

“Or at least continue the hunt.” Anju clarified.

“Or die by our hands.” Erena cracked her knuckles and flexed her claws. “Looks like she hasn’t found an apprentice yet. Killing her now would end the cycle.”

“You mean delay it.” Tsubasa corrected. “The Rex Interfectorem will always manage to find itself in the hands of some new Slayer. Its legacy will always continue, no matter what we do.”

“Kya!” A cry came from below.

One of the wheels hit a stone in the road, causing the entire cart to careen chaotically.

“Woah, woah, woah!” The young knight cried, trying to regain control

Her efforts were in vain, however, as the cart ended up tipping onto its side.

“Ow ow ow owiee…” The girl whined as she pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Oh, Rexy!” She grabbed at her back. “Where did you go?” She scrambled about, searching for the sword that had jostled loose.

Erena sighed. “On second thought, are we sure she’s the one?”

Anju giggled. “Perhaps we can let this one live. She doesn’t appear to be any threat, right Tsubasa-chan? Eh? Tsubasa-chan?”

“Master, what are you…”

Tsubasa strode out from the tree line and made her way down the hill. She held a hand out to signal her servants to stay hidden.

“Are you in need of aid, young lady?” She asked, approaching the supposed Demon King Slayer.

The girl looked up. “Yes, please. It seems my sword fell off, and…”

Tsubasa stooped and hefted the cart back upright. “Is that what you are looking for?” She jutted her chin toward the sword laying where the cart had previously covered it.

“Wow…” The other woman marveled. “You’re really strong, Ms…”

“Tsubasa. Kira Tsubasa.”

The woman smiled brilliantly. “Kousaka Honoka.” Well, that explained the glyph. “Nice to meet you, Tsubasa-chan. And thank you for helping me find Rexy.” She picked up her sword and slipped it back in place. “How can I repay you? Oh, I know, how about I buy you something tasty in the next town. They have the best bread ever.”

“Sounds good.”

“Right, then hop on!” Honoka motioned to the back of her cart.

“Hrm…” Tsubasa considered for a moment before hopping up and taking a seat on the bench beside Honoka.

“Oh… I guess that works too.” Honoka smiled again. “Now let’s get going.” She flipped the reigns to signal her horse to continue their journey.

Well, this will be interesting. Tsubasa thought to herself.

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Author’s Note Continued: This idea has been sitting in the WIP & Note Warehouse gathering digital dust for quite a while. Iirc, the idea came from a conversation I had with @noelclover a few years back. At least I’m pretty sure that was the source, as HtHaM in general was inspired by a lovely pic of theirs.

And I really need to get back to that AU...

#TsubaHono #Kousaka Honoka #Kira Tsubasa #How to Handle a Maki #Love Live #Promptober 2022 #fanfic

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princessherogirl · 1 year

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Vex's Adorable Appetizer ~ Chapter 5: Epic Fail!

Vex: (lets out yet another huge yet satisfied burp)

(Meanwhile in Vex's stomach, everyone huddled up worried)

Newton: What are we gonna do? First Sackboy got eaten by Vex and now all of us! We must wait until someone else gets here!

Sackboy: (whimpering)

Clive: But what about Craftworld?! And Sackboy's friends and the OTHER TOWNSFOLK of Loom?

Newton: (crossing his arms with an annoyed look on his face) That doesn't matter, Clive... (The time card from Spongebob pops up as the french narrator reads "Meanwhile...")

(Sky, Neko, Ruby, Siriusheart, Alfred, Skei, Breakfast, Biazz and T.V. (9 of the O.C.s from the Little Big Planet Franchise) walked into the forest while searching for Sackboy and his friends)

Neko: Sackboy? Where are you?

(They all stopped and looked up)

T.V. (LBP oc): What the...?

Vex: (grins evilly)

Sirius Heart: (clenching her fist and points at Vex) (angrily) Look what you did to Sackboy and his friends?

Skei: (with his arms crossed) Yeah, you ate everyone!

Vex: Was I? (chuckles evilly) Hopefully, you all wanna enjoy being digested as well!

Neko: (gasps)

(Vex grabs Ruby by the hood of her sweatshirt)

Ruby: Help!!!

(LATER AGAIN!!! WHY ARE CHARACTERS ENTERING AND GETTING EATEN?!?!)

Vex: (lets out yet an even louder burp, even satisfied, this time; then later, licked the blood off of his lips while rubbing his stomach)

Vex: Hrm. You've all seen to be inside me now. And this time, I sure hope you'd enjoyed your stays... (evil chuckle)

Sackgirl: LET US OUT NOW!!!

Vex: Aw, don't worry. You're safe for now.

(Meanwhile, Ace Lloyd, Mellissa Match, Ras and Fizz walked up to Vex)

Fizz: What the?

Vex: (looks down) Hrm. Pathetic. You've seen that you're gonna beat me, aren't you?

Ras: Yes.

Vex: (cracking his knuckles) Alright then. Who shall I start with...?

(Vex picks up Melissa)

Melissa: HEY! PUT ME DOWN!

(Vex opens his mouth wide and drops Mellissa in)

Ace: MELISSA! NO!!!

(Vex swallows Melissa)

Ace, Fizz and Ras: (were horrified)

Fizz: This is gonna suck!

Mellissa: (offscreen) LET ME OUT!!!

Ras: (angrily) LEAVE HER ALONE, YOU MONSTER!

Vex: Not today! (evil laughter)

Ras: (Stares blankly)

Fizz: Uh-oh... (Vex grabs Ras)

Ras: HELP!!!

(Fizz and Ace grab Ras by the legs but were dragged alongside him)

Ras: I wanna go home!!! (Vex drops the trio inside his mouth and swallowed them whole) Sackboy: (Pulls the string as tight as he can)

Sackboy: (falls on his butt)

Newton Pud: Ugh, this is gonna take forever!

Cyberton Virtus: (hears loud gulp and someone else falling)

What's that noise...?

Scarlet: Someone else IS BEING SWALLOWED?! WHY?!

Wilbur: And I thought you'd said that it's "someone else being swallowed", however. EVEN IF WE'RE GONNA GET DIGESTED SOON!

Sackboy, Sackgirl, Newton and all the other chatacters, including Scarlet: (All staring at Wilbur blankly)

Sirius Heart: (Annoyed): What...?

(Sackboy begin to pull the string again)

Neko: Hey everyone, Sackboy is pulling that string!!

Sackboy: (pulls harder, but the string snaps into 2)

(Sackboy falls on his butt, gets up and notices that the string he just snapped was short) (Sackboy went to his knees and begin to cry)

Clive: Dammit...

Newton Pud: (crying) SACKBOY! I NEED A HUG!!!

(Fizz, Rass, and Ace all fall into Vex's stomach)

Clive Handforth: (jumps backwards with a yelp)

Fizz: Ugh, what happened? Where are we?

Newton: Vex started it. (Sackgirl nods)

Fizz: Yeah, right. Now, since we're trapped inside Vex's stomach, I think we're gonna die!

Fisk: Hm?

Cyberton: Don't even ask...

#vex saba #Soft Vore #Giant Vore #LBP Vex #Sackboy #Saba Vex #Sackboy Vex #Sackboy A Big Adventure #Newton Pud #little big planet

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perpetual-fool · 1 year

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So, the vulnerability thing. What purpose would that serve?

Lets say I share with someone "I'm afraid of clowns, a clown killed my dog when I was three". How do they respond if it's positive? "I will protect you from the clowns" maybe? And the significance of that would be to signal that this person is someone who will help you? And you'd feel some kind of way about that. And what if the response was bad? Maybe "clowns aren't bad people, you just need to meet more clowns". And that would signal that this person would either not help or harm you, and you'd feel a different kind of way about that. I'm sorry. And in my case, 'safe' would be understanding, and in others 'safe' would be empathetic. hypothetically. So it reads as 'unsafe' both ways, blah blah blah. Why does it tell me that I'm wrong? Mixed signals? I don't feel it, but I can see when someone is putting 'compassion' on their face, more or less. Or, people do things that make it seem like they really care, but also they do things that make it seem like they can't possibly. Meaning, it seems like the possibility of safety, connection, whatever is actually there.

And things *almost* make sense. Like if I just had a little more, if I could just reach a little farther, then everything would work. And everyone else seems to be able to make it work. I guess it's less of a stretch to think I'm just wrong. Although, when I've actually dug into things, that 'almost' making sense breaks down very quickly. In isolation it kind of works. If someone just tells me about it, it seems to make sense. But if have any experience with it then it all seems very wrong. Maddeningly so. And no one else can see it. That.. really does not sound like 'almost', does it? So it's not that it's close. It's that I'm taking others' word as gospel? And the 'almost' is where the façade wears thin. Phrased poorly, but that feels right.

I'm not sure how else I could take it. If someone says "this is how it is" there's zero leeway there. And if I do ask why, it's because some other thing is the way it is, or because someone or something else says so. There are no observations, there are no arguments, and I'd be lucky to have premises. The lack of those things is what makes it impossible to take any other way. Hrm. I saw a thing about music today, with a guy named Victor Wooten. He said this thing that made sense. Has saying that you should learn music by playing first, instead of trying to practice scales and stuff first. Like how children learn to talk by talking, not by practicing words. It was phrased the same way, but it didn't feel like it, 'cause I was able to connect things up on my own. Is that how everything is supposed to be? That would mean people really do just assume you fucking understand. And, I ran across a thing the other day, the guy from Sick Puppies apparently got kicked out of the band awhile ago. And they replaced him. And today I saw a video of a concert, but after the dude kicked out. And it was the new guy, and he wasn't doing it right. I really do not have the words to explain this. There's a bit of Riptide that's like "I, I won't justify.." and the first 'I' is drawn out and clear, while the second one is rushed over and the 'justify' is held instead. And the new guy was not holding the 'I' right. He was singing it like the second 'I', expressing "I something something" rather than just "I". Like, the concept being expressed is I-ness, "me". And the new guy sang it distorted and cut short, not expressing that. And I don't particularly find Shim's writing engaging, but he's clear about what he's expressing. The new guy is just doing a 'rock singer' voice. And that sounds like I'm crazy, right? I don't hear that kind of thing explained anywhere.

That's what my 'understanding' is, those sorts of connections. I am crazy. And this is what I'm sorry for, for failing. I couldn't connect, I couldn't feel what I was supposed to do, and I couldn't feel you. But I am denied, and punished for reaching for it. This is why people hate me, isn't it? I mean, I'm sure you perceive it differently, think that I'm just being obstinant or something. And other people are clearly numb. Knock-off Shim, for instance, doesn't hear the difference. Or there's the guitar intonation thing, or whatever. What could other people even have? the façade? only the map and no territory? I guess I'm not really wondering about it in abstract, I already know what that has to be. I'm wondering about the internal experience. Where I have this feeling, do they just have nothing? There is no 'right-ness', only wild guessing? I don't think anyone could confirm, catch-22 and all.

I guess I shouldn't be sorry. Really, people hate me for trying to connect, but I'm sorry for failing. I'm just not wanted, huh? I wish I just could've been something else. No one wants broken, useless-Sherlock. What's the point of me? It's really not in my nature to be selfish. But what else do I have?

- Tangent, about things just out of reach. There's this ghost town halfway to west Texas called Thurber. The only thing there is a restaurant called Smokestack. They have pretty good chicken fried steak. My family used to stop there on the way to Abilene, where my sister and then myself attended one of their three Christian colleges. I'd like to visit again, but I'm pretty sure I have agoraphobia now. Just leaving the house makes me quite anxious. And it's like, I was only able to experience that because I had no control of my life. I was dragged there. And that was hell, and it nearly fucking killed me, but now I have virtually no means to do anything. I don't belong in this world. I don't have the will to deal with my medical bullshit on my own, and my anxiety would not allow it. I did actually manage to take a road trip a couple states over to visit Cat. But I didn't have all my medical bullshit then, and I had something to believe in. I had the hope of real connection to give me the strength to get through it. And now I have nothing.

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sekhisadventures · 2 years

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Open for Business

Bilgewater Harbor, Approximately One Month After Jastor Gallywix and the Bilgewater Cartel Formally Joined the Horde

Hammering, sawing, wielding, the occasional scream followed by an explosion. Work was underway on the island in the middle of Azshara’s new bay to build a replacement for the goblin’s lost home in Kezan. All around the edge were the local roughnecks, gunslingers, tinkerers, and of course the five members of Jastor’s elite Gob Squad keeping back the Naga who had been really un-co-operative about the whole thing, and inside the island buildings were going up (sometimes literally if the charge detonated too soon) and deals were being made.

War was coming, both with the Alliance due to Garrosh’s new plans about expanding to the northwest into the Night Elves’ ancestral home of Ashenvale Forest and with the renewed forces of the Twilight’s Hammer following Deathwing’s return. The Horde needed weapons and when it came to weapons nobody made them as big, as flashy, or as destructive as goblins.

Certainly not as flashy anyways. If you needed something blown up you could call on a tauren shaman or a blood elf magister, but if you needed it blown up by a giant robot chicken that flew over the battlefield blasting heavy metal music while raining egg-shaped grenades you called a goblin.

Grimo however, needed capital for that. He needed money for the ol’ R&D before he could make something that could win the war for the Horde (or, at the very least, make some serious noise) and to that effect he had to go into the other thing the Horde needed.

Namely, people good at killing shit.

Grimo was a portly goblin approaching middle age with large bat-like ears and purple eyes, a chin that seemed to perpetually sport a layer of stubble, and fingers forever dyed black with grease, oil, and cigar ash. Hard bitten and harder headed, he’d been a tinkerer on Kezan all his life until some asshole dragon decided to make Mount Kajaro erupt and bury his home under molten lava.

“Yeah yeah, we’ll keep yer resume on file buddy.” he said to an orc hunter fresh out of the Valley of Trials who bragged he could hit a bird in mid-flight over the island and had instead wound up landing an arrow squarely in the backside of a goblin working on the defensive walls of Bilgewater Harbor. “NEXT!” shouted Grimo, taking a long pull from his cigar.

He cursed and grumbled under his breath. All the best fighters seemed to go to the big guilds, leaving him with the ones who were too clumsy, too stupid, too naïve, or too much ‘collateral damage’ for anyone else. He’d even had a freakin’ human turn up, though he’s pretty sure that Donald moron just got lost on his way to Darnassus. He’d wondered how the heck he even got into Bilgewater Harbor past all the twitchy guys on the coast anyways.

He shrugged as the next applicant walked up, “Right right, welcome ta Grimo’s Savage United. Whats yer thing ehhh…” he shuffled some papers on his table, then squinted up into the face of an elderly orc before puzzling out the name, “Krug’thor?” he tried.

The orc grunted, “Krag’thar Stoneshaper. My guild disbanded after the Lich King was defeated. I served with honor in Northrend but none of the other guilds want an old orc. I wish to die gloriously in battle!” he snapped, trying to straighten up, then wincing and leaning back onto his staff. His armor definitely looked like it was from that war, though clearly not well kept. Perhaps the orc had fallen on hard times and couldn’t afford the repair costs.

Grimo looked over the resume, “Hrm… achievements… yeah yeah… okay yeah you’ll do. Shamans can fix people so we can at least trust ya to patch the rest of us up if we get our asses kicked.” he nodded, putting the resume in a box marked out on chalk on his table as ‘approved.’

The orc grinned, “Good! You won’t be disappointed, where is the rest of this Savage United then?” he asked.

“Yer lookin’ at him.” replied Grimo.

The orc’s face fell, but he glanced back at the line and, well, quite a few guilds were forming now that the world seemed to have been torn asunder by the Black Dragon’s wake. It could just be another new one.

Grimo gestured to a row of rickety wooden chairs set up nearby as the orc shrugged and stomped over, seeming to just be grateful to sit down.

“Great… just me ‘n an orc who’s almost dead… whats next?” he grumbled, then looked up and made a face. It would seem the next one wasn’t almost dead. “Uh… huh…” he dug through the papers, “Sez here yer name is… Mola’raum?”

“Dat be right bruddah.” the troll replied, some of the greener recruits (figuratively, not literally green of course) were starting to back away. They may have proven themselves in Northrend, but nobody felt entirely at ease around people like him.

Mola’raum was tall, but then trolls always were. He wore long robes with metal plates here and there, a spear balanced over his shoulder with sickly green runes set into the blade. He was also, very very clearly, dead.

A Death Knight, an undead warrior brought back to serve in the Scourge who had managed to rebel against the will of the Lich King and broke away to fight for the Horde (or Alliance in some cases) rather than against them.

His skin was a pale unhealthy shade of green the same that some troll corpses would get after a few months of decomposition and his eye sockets glowed with ghostly blue witch-fires.

“Huh, usually th' big guilds are fightin’ themselves ta get their mitts on Death Knights, why ain’t ya with one of them?” he asked.

The troll shrugged, “Eh… if I wanted ta go with a big team I be stayin’ at Acherus mon. Too noisy, yanno?” he replied.

Grimo looked around the chaos of the half-built harbor, hearing constant hammering, drilling, the hiss of wielding torches, the constant ratta-tatta-tatta of jackhammers, and of course being a goblin city in progress the occasional yell of ‘no you moron not that fuse! RUN!’ before a loud BOOM and several screams.

“… too noisy, right.” he replied, “Well, nobody kills like someone who’s job got Death in th' freakin’ name. Fine, yer in. Take a seat next ta gramps over there.” he nodded, jabbing a thumb in Krag’thar’s direction and put the troll’s paperwork ontop of Krag’thar’s.

As he did however he was suddenly aware of the sun being blocked out, the goblin looking up at a massive figure infront of him. “Hm… tauren eh? Alright... whats yer deal Bessie? Druid? Huntress? If yer a shaman that position’s been filled.” he asked, digging through the other resumes.

“Er… Nitika actually.” came a deep voice, the large bovine woman dressed in a woven set of robes and holding a thick wooden staff with a head carved into the shape of a stylized eagle. “And… I’m a Seer of An’she.” she replied.

“Seer…” he took a deep pull from his cigar, then flicked away the butt into a refuse pile nearby. “Huh, that’s the whole priest-y deal you cows got ain’t it?” he asked, the taureness wincing a bit at the word ‘cow’ but not saying anything. “Thought you guys were strictly non-combat. Back-end healers, communing with yer god, that shit.” he replied.

“Er, well, we were… but after Northrend and the Sunwalker movement began… well… An’she’s light is certainly needed right now.” she replied, the tauren blushing as she heard a few snickering noises behind her.

“… hey, ya left th' ‘achievements’ part here blank toots.” he said in a mildly accusing tone, holding up her paperwork and waving it at her.

“W-well, um… I mean… I only became a seer last month…” she replied.

The goblin sighed, “So… you’re a newb. Great.” he frowned, “Weeeeeeeell…” he looked past her seeing a tauren warrior covered with so much metal that the ground was sinking a bit under their weight, a forsaken warlock who kept giggling in a rather worrying way, and an orc rogue who grinned and licked the edge of his blade, realized he’d already poisoned it too late, and fell over in a heap on the ground. “… fuck it, I’m sick of this interview crap anyways. Whatever, you’ll either do or you won’t. Grab a chair.” he replies.

Nitika sighed with relief, well, mostly relief and clomped her way over to the chairs on her hooves, the goblin standing up on his chair, “Alright! Interviews are officially over! Rest of ya mooks CLEAR OUT!” he shouted as the crowd grumbled and dispersed, the goblin hopping off his chair and walking over to his three new hires.

“Okay, so here’s th' deal.” he said, lighting a new cigar, “We’re mercenaries. We take contracts, do what th' contract says, 'n get paid. Simple shit. Ya accept a contract, ya do it. I don’t give a shit if you get hired to run out some furblogs ‘n then find out they’re running an orphanage for disabled gnome babies or somethin'. Contract says bearman skins, you get bearman skins.” he nods, “Rewards are split sixty-forty my way. I’m th' boss so I’m the one payin’ for upkeep ‘n shit. Deal with it.” he adds.

The tauren nodded, but the troll and shaman shared a look. They both fought in Northrend after all and likely had more experience with goblins than she did… but it was paying work and its not like the Horde had anyone they could complain to about it.

“Right ya mooks! Welcome ta yer glorious new future with Grimo’s Savage United LLC!” he grinned toothly, “Yer first contracts will begin…” he started… then paused and looked behind him as a much louder than normal explosion came from behind him.

Then a loud hissing roar echoed through the half-built city and several screams that went on too long for a goblin construction project followed it.

The half-built defensive wall had a massive hole in it, and through it poured a swarm of naga warriors. Leading them was a giant red-skinned serpent-man with a huge spiral shell covering one of its arms like a warglave, “DRIVE THE GOBLINSSS OUT, FOR QUEEN AZSSSHARA!!!” it roared.

“… right fuckin’ now. Kill that thing.” he stared as an alarm sounded throughout the city, then suddenly a dark shape shot past him as Mola’raum leapt to his feet and ran off with a speed belying his unliving flesh. The troll snapped his fingers as the ground around him swelled up and a ghoul burst free from the dirt with a loud snarling sound.

Krag’thar was next, the orc getting up as fast as his back would allow him to, then stomping off after the death knight, reaching down to run his hands over the totems on his belt. Most shaman didn’t rely on the full set anymore, but he was a traditionalist.

Nitika was last, the inexperienced priestess staring in shock at the sudden appearance of the massive creature, but she stood and smacked her cheeks a few times, then picked up her staff and rushed off after them as Grimo un-holstered his rifle and ran after the group. Leader yeah, but let the others tank up the hits so he could lead another day.

All through the city was chaos, and not the normal kind for a goblin city, as more and more naga came pouring in through the breach with the defenders outside frantically tried to stem the tide. Up at the inn Jastor Gallywix was shouting orders and cursing at the city organizers, demanding to know how the naga broke through to begin with given how much he’d been paying them.

Ahead of them Mola’raum’s long legs drove him on, a naga warrior slithering up the path to meet him. Quick as a serpent as the troll gestured with his free hand and exhaled a burst of greenish fog with several buzzing gnats mixed into it, then with a laugh spat it at the snake-like humanoid’s face.

The troll leapt over him as the naga’s eyes bulged and watered, his gills turning an unhealthy shade of green as he fell forward onto his arms and began to retch and vomit, then landed atop another naga with his spear going straight into their shoulder and the flesh around it turning necrotic almost immediately.

As he did however he suddenly cried out and stumbled away, only just managing to pull his spear free as his left shoulder was suddenly encased in ice, several more jagged shards forming above the heads of a trio of sea witches as they focused their magicks on him.

The troll stumbled, the initial attack having made his arm heavy and clumsy, as his ghoul rushed to meet them but before the undead minion could attack the ice spears flew towards its master…

Mola'raum braced himself, then suddenly with a burst of sunlight a glowing shield appeared over the troll’s form! The first two spears shattered on impact and the third penetrating, but losing enough momentum to just barely tap the death knight’s nose before falling to the ground.

Nitika stood nearby, her outstretched hand trembling as she looked at him, “… I… wasn’t sure that would work…” she chuckled, having just managed to invoke several ancient Taurhaue words of protection and shielding before the naga got their spell off.

Then there was a furious shriek from the naga! Nitika yelped and quickly babbled the words out while gesturing to herself to block a sudden burst of hail. They were enraged that their spell had been thwarted, even moreso that Mola’raum’s ghoul had managed to tear one of them apart before the other two could bring it down… and more naga were coming up the path already!

The witches began to channel their magicks again as Nitika’s shield slowly faded, the novice seer only able to maintain it for short times yet, as suddenly a series of loud shots rang out and the naga women went down with holes in their heads.

Grimo popped out the used shells from his rifle and reloaded new slugs into the chamber. “Not a bad start but get faster with that shield trick cow.” he snorted as Nitika winced again. “Where’s the orc?” he asked as debris went flying all around them from the Naga’s attacks.

Kragthar stomped up behind him, “Right here, goblin.” he rumbled, looking at the oncoming mob.

“Well, gonna do something about those?” he asked, aiming his rifle.

“I already did.” smirked the aging shaman as the goblin looked at him quizzically, the old orc extending a hand.

In the path of the charging goblins was a small totem in the shape of an axe seeming to radiate heat. While Grimo had been focused on shooting the Naga, Krag’thar had thrown out one of his totems into the path of the rest of their advance, which seemed to be his fire totem given the effect it had.

Krag’thar’s outstretched hand suddenly made a fist and he snarled out several words in Kalimag! With a woosh of flames a massive fireball appeared in the path of the naga, shaping itself into his fire elemental which rushed towards the serpent-creatures! The naga were forced to fall back, unable to even touch their enemy’s body of living flames!

Grimo’s eyebrows went up, “Okay, not bad not bad… where’d the big one go though?” he asked as there was a sudden roar and one of the nearby buildings was torn apart, the massive naga warrior breaking through it.

“DIE DRYSSSKINSSS!” it snarled as it rushed them down, the four members of Savage United suddenly backpedaling at the massive creature’s assault before several arrows suddenly appeared in it’s chest with loud thunking sounds.

Grimo stumbled to a halt and looked around, then saw several orcs in blood-red mail aiming their bows at it as more charged up the path and a loud voice roared out, “FORWARD MY KOR’KRON! TEAR THESE NAGA TO PIECES!”

“Ah, it be da new boss mon. Heard he be in town…” muttered Mola’raum as he brushed the last few bits of melting frost from his arm.

Striding up the path towards the oncoming attackers, axe already in hand, was none other than the new Warchief of the Horde himself. Garrosh Hellscream.

Krag’thar smirked at that, though Nitika seemed rather disturbed by the orc’s sudden appearance. The taureness looked away and gripped her staff tightly, muttering 'Carine...' under her breath.

The orc sneered up at Jastor as he passed the inn, “Be glad I decided to look in on this mess of a city goblin.” he grinned, “Now watch how a true warrior of the Horde fights! LOK'TAR OGAR!” he roared, charging down the giant naga as Grimo lit his cigar, tucking his rifle under his arm.

“Weeeeeell, I think they got it from here guys…” he said as the carnage started. Garrosh was a very hotblooded young orc and he had been waiting for an excuse for a fight for a while now, he likely wasn’t going to stop very soon. “Think we can call this one done… grab some fangs outta those fish heads though. Bounty is two silver a fang.” he nodded to the corpses as Mola’raum shrugged and dug a knife out of his belt, Nitika making a face at that.

Grimo looked at her, “Better get used to it toots, it ain’t gonna get less messy.” he smirked, “You can’t take getting a bit of blood on yer hooves ya better head on back to Mulgore with the rest of the cows.” he smirked, turning on his heel and heading back towards his office.

“… notta cow…” grumbled the Taureness, though not loud enough for anyone to hear over the chaos as Krag’thar turned as well, Mola’raum following along shortly with a leather pouch filled with naga teeth.

As he did though he walked up next to the taureness, “’ey girlie… don’t let it get to ya, ya?” he shrugged, “It just be da way o’ tings right now.” he added.

She gave him a nervous look, but the Death Knight just nodded to her, “When we teamed up, I be handlin’ da squishy bits, ya? Not like I gotta worry ‘bout gettin’ sick.” he chuckled, jangling his tooth bag.

She shuddered at that but did give him a small nod and nervous smile. For a death knight he was oddly friendly.

“Right ya mooks! Welcome to Savage United!” grinned Grimo as they made it back to where the interviews were being held infront of a pokey two-room shack with a neon sign ontop reading ‘Grimo’s Savage United LLC.’ “Stick with me guys, this is just the start of our glorious 'n lucrative careers in th' field of mercenary-in’, leg breakin’, an-..." he started, and then there was a tremendous explosion as the shack suddenly shot up into the sky and was blasted apart into several dozen pieces.

Grimo wiped the soot from his face as Krag’thar cursed and struggled to his feet. Nitika relatively untouched as the earlier fight had left her a bit on edge and she’d conjured her shield out of almost reflex on herself. Mola’raum had been sent flying backwards into another junk pile, the troll cursing up a storm as he dug himself out.

Grimo looked around, then saw a smoldering pile of garbage where he’d tossed his cigar butt earlier… a trail of ashes leading from it to the remains of several spare barrels of gunpowder he’d had stacked up behind his office for making fresh bullets.

“Huh… thought it felt like one of those things had a leak.” he muttered. “Right! Second order of business, get out there ‘n get some contracts so we can get th' funds to rebuild the office… with proper munitions storage this time!”

#warcraft #warcraft roleplay #adventures in azeroth #fanfiction #Cataclysm

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askbeannuts · 2 years

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[Warning. Discussions of loss of life/suicide ahead]

Past_Moe: Y-you know Bean and I are here for you-even if she-

Past_Gil: Of course!

Past_Moe: T-then why-

Past_Gil: Doesn’t it bother you that we survived at all? I thought about it a lot, so I came here to think about it more... someone in the city said this is where you could see South Town when it was a clear day outside. But then, I looked over the edge and thought about things more...

Past_Moe: ... Gil-

Past_Gil: I wasn’t scared at all! That’s why I can take on those bullies that bother the younger kids without hesitating-even if they don’t hold back sometimes. I don’t think Matron Chansey or the doctor at the Clinic in the city like it too much though... heh...

Past_Moe: ... That’s... that doesn’t sound healthy, Gil...

Past_Gil: I know-Oh! I heard that little Rattata kid talking with ya, he called you “brother”.

Past_Moe: Oh, yeah... he did-

Past_Gil: I know the Matrons want us to be like a family, right? Let’s do that-

Past_Moe: Gil, wait...! H-how can you be so casual about everything you said earlier...? T-that’s terrifying to hear, you know?!

Past_Gil: Hrm... Hmmm.... I don’t know! I just... well, ever since I ran through South Town when it was collapsing, I guess I just feel different about this kind of stuff. Dunno.

Past_Moe: ... If... you’re going to keep coming here... you have to tell me, okay?

Past_Gil: Sure-

Past_Moe: Seriously! I... I don’t want... to wake up one morning and you’re just... gone-

Past_Gil: I told you I’m not thinking that way anymore-

Past_Moe: It doesn’t matter... just... tell me, OK? Or Anyone else, so we’ll know where to find yo-

Past_Lira: I-I’ve heard ENOUGH...!!

Moe: ...

<Previous

#Chapter 2 Part 1: To the North #GilScorbunny #LiraRoserade #Mysterious Being 1 #MoeYungoos #tw: death mention

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inkedwarrior · 3 years

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Prompt #1

AN: So, I have had this prompt forever and never gotten around to writing it. But now it's done. I did change some things because they fit easier with how I write. It got way longer than I intended and I'm still not super happy with the ending, but still, I hope you guys like it. Thank you @silvafox for the inspiration. Prompt: You've always hated your power to reveal people true opinions of each other, it got your parents divorced, after all. But after jokingly using the power at a work party while drunk, you realize your partner/spouse loathes you. But your worst enemy, an asshole coworker, loves you. Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

In general, being a mind fairy wasn’t the easiest. When you were younger, you had a hard time coping with your gifts. Your mother, being a mind fairy herself, tried her best to help you, but while she mainly focused on dreams, you strayed between the mind, dreams and thoughts. But it all paled in comparison when you discovered another part your gifts around your twelfth birthday. It was a normal morning, you and your parents eating breakfast together before the start of the day. Noticing a weird aura around them, you closed your eyes to delve deeper. You wish you never had.

What followed were the worst minutes of your life and from that moment on, you hated that part. You hated the fact the their divorce was your fault, because if you hadn’t delved deeper into their bond, they never would have revealed their true opinions of each other. You couldn’t stand to know that your parents loathed each other and the fact that they found out was your fault. Over the years you’ve tried to find other fairies with the same ability but so far you’ve come up short. There wasn’t much information in books either, so you could never put a name to ability. It didn’t matter, because after what happened to your parents, you vowed to never use it again. So you secluded the part deep within yourself and tried to live your life as best as you could.

You went to school, met your partner, who would later become your spouse and eventually got a job offer to teach at Alfea, a very prestigious school for fairies and specialists. You jumped at the chance when Headmistress Dowling contacted you with the offer and since your partner could work from anywhere, you packed up your things and moved to Alfea. The pain and guilt of what you’ve had done as a child was always there but you learned to live with it. You had told your partner of what had happened but asked them no never speak of it, and noticing what a discomfort the subject brought you, had dropped it.

Teaching at Alfea was everything you’ve ever dreamed of except for one thing. Or rather one person. Saul Silva. The headmaster of the specialist had made it his personal mission to make your days a living hell. He was always getting on your nerves, complaining about this or that, making comments under his breath when he thought you weren’t listening. If the two of you ever had to work together, you spent more time arguing than anything else. Farah quickly noticed and tried to keep the two of you apart as much as possible.

“Hey Y/N, wait up,” looking behind you, you notice Ben Harvey juggling several plants at the same time. Laughing, you offer to take some of them off his hands. He generously accepts and the two of you continue to stroll towards the greenhouses. Arriving there, the smile on your face disappears quickly, seeing Saul leaning against the wall with that cocky smirk of his.

“Ben, I need advice on a couple of things, do you have time?”, he follows the two of you inside. Wanting to get as far away from him as possible, you put down the plants on a bench and noticing Ben doesn’t need any help, you hurry away, pushing past Saul and closing the door behind you. You would never admit it out loud, but despite getting on your nerves most days and just in general being an asshole towards you, you couldn’t help but to notice the fact that Saul Silva was attractive. You hated yourself for even looking at him like that, but there was something that stirred a feeling deep in your gut every time you looked at him. You always shook those feelings away, reminding yourself that you were in a loving relationship, with a partner who loved you.

The thought of your partner halted your steps. How long had it been since the two of you slept in the same bed? Shared a kiss? Thinking back, you couldn’t remember. Lately you had been working late with Farah, planning a new lesson plan for next year, and more often than not, you had opted to stay in you overnight suite that you vacated at Alfea. And your partner was constantly working, traveling. But had it really been that long since the two of you saw each other. Checking your phone, you noticed that your last phone call was over 2 months ago. Arriving at your door, you went inside and sat down. Staring at the phone, your finger hovering over the call button. Despite the feeling telling you to not call them, you pressed down and held the phone to you ear. Several dials tones pass by before they pick up, sounding slightly out of breath. They almost sound surprised to hear from you and the feeling grows worse. Not wanting to argue you nicely ask them is they’re still coming to the annual Alfea Christmas party, hosted for the teachers each year. Agreeing to a time and date, you quickly hang up, neither of you uttering any words of love or comfort. Curling up under the covers, you close your eyes hoping that sleep will come soon.

Two weeks later

You were drunk. Or maybe tipsy. Either way, you had consumed far too much alcohol and decided to maybe switch to water for the rest of the night. Your partner was chatting up someone on the other side of the room, and even though there’s a lot of people around, you see them flirting. Somehow, it doesn’t bother you. It should bother you that the person promising you the future, forever and always, is flirting openly, but it don’t. When did this happen? When did you fall out of love with each other. Noticing you watching them, they make their way over to you. Sitting down, they take your hand, asking if everything is alright. Looking at them, you decide that no, everything is not alright.

And that’s when you notice it. The orange aura surrounding them, the same aura that once had surrounded your parents. Through the haze induced by the alcohol, you stare at them, unconsciously delving deeper into their mind. What you find should leave you in tears, but it doesn’t. The feeling of anger, loathe and tired is spreading throughout their body, and it is all directed at you. You let go of their hand.

“So, where you ever going to tell me?”, you stand, looking them in the eyes. You’re just tired now, and you want straight answers. You pull them to a quiet corner, out of prying eyes.

“Tell you what?”, they look confused for a moment, but you see the understanding slowly dawning in their eyes. Anger quickly surfaces and you don’t even have the strength to defend yourself.

“You said you never wanted to talk about this, and I never thought you would ever read me like that,” they’re upset and you understand. But you don’t care. Exhaling slowly through your nose, you take their hand.

“If you want out of this marriage, you should have told me,” they look down at your joined hands. Eyes meeting, you know this is the end. They take a few steps back, fiddling with their ring. Making the decision for them, you slid your ring off, handing it over. Sharing one last look, they turn on their heel, walking away.

“Hrm,” a quiet cough startles you and turning around, you see Saul watching you with a look you can’t quite understand. But it isn’t what catches your focus the most. It’s the warm red aura surrounding him, all while watching you. You choke on air and he steps towards you, a hand stretched out.

“Are you alright?”, gone is the usually cocky facade he sports around you, instead a genuine concern etched onto his face. You try to utter something but it gets caught in your throat. Spluttering you sit down, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. You know what the red aura means, granted you haven’t seen it much, but you remember it surrounding both you and your partner, former partner, in the early days of your relationship. It doesn’t make sense. Saul hates you, of that you’re pretty sure. He’s always an asshole and he never gives you a break. He should not be surrounded by the warm red light around you. Not knowing what to feel, you do the only thing you can. You bolt.

“Y/N, wait up,” you can hear his footsteps behind you and you turn around so quickly the two of you almost collide.

“Why do you care Saul?”, you don’t intend for it to sound so harsh, but you’re tired and confused. A lot has happened in the span of a very short time tonight. You stare him down, waiting for an answer.

“Why do I care? I know I haven’t exactly been very nice towards you and Ben told me off a couple of weeks for it,” feeling even more confused you continue to look at him. A blush is rising on his cheeks and he’s claps his hands together, so far from the person you’re used to him being.

“I’m not good at this, and I know you have no reason to believe what I’m about to say,” he takes a step towards you and the look in his eyes have you standing still.

“Good at what?”, you cock your head, and then the red around him glows even brighter than before. He seems nervous all of a sudden and clears his throat.

“Talking about this, eh, talking about feelings,” you gape at him, feeling speechless.

“What feelings?”, you remember that he doesn’t know about your ability, so you ask the question, despite that fact that his aura says everything. He cares for you, no he loves you.

“I care about you. I know that I haven’t exactly shown it, but emotions isn’t my strong suit and when I felt this way about you, I panicked. You’re married and I didn’t want to ruin anything so I thought the best way was to act like an asshole,” he speaks clearly and you want to laugh out loud. This situation is more messed up than you would like it to be but the feeling you usually get around him stirs in your gut once again.

“My partner just left. I gave them my ring back,” holding up your hand, you show him the blank spot where your wedding ring used to be. Explaining that your marriage has been over for quite some time and this was only waiting to happen, you see him smile, and you can’t help but to smile back. Feeling that this conversation is far away from being over, but something tells you that it can wait. Taking a step forward, you grab his collar before he can react and rise on your toes to press your lips against his. The red swirls around the both of you and for once in your life, you don’t hate your ability.

#saul silva #saul silva x reader #saul silva imagine #fate the winx saga #fate winx saga

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crowtrinkets · 4 years

Text

Like a Sailor’s

Turns out when Asra was rehabilitating his apprentice, he may or may not have neglected to teach them a few words. Gender Neutral Apprentice

ALT TITLE: You kiss your mother with that mouth? I don't remember my mom?

Lots of swearing lol, short fic cause I thought the prompt was funny.

Word Count: 1,623

---

The first time I heard the word it was met with a gasp from a mother who whisked her child away from the market. A man was yelling about the price of rice and when he uttered the word it seemed to come as a shock. I couldn't speak at the time so I could never ask Asra what it meant at the time. The man's outburst didn't seem to phase Asra as he continued to peruse the pendulum stand without disturbance. I decided to leave it be at the time.

The next time I was at the docks and a sailor was laughing with his friends, I couldn’t very well have gone up and asked the stranger since it seemed everyone knew what it meant. But I still wanted to know. But again I let my question fall to the back of my mind.

As my life went on I continued to hear the word over and over, still never with an explanation, and with a multitude of contexts. Which further confused me about its meaning.

One day Asra and I had Julian and Muriel over for some tea and it quickly turned into a game of cards. Julian is exceptionally bad at cards, his poker face is terrible. Asra always cheats but Muriel and I know him well enough to call him out when we discover it. At one point Julian uttered it. The Word. The word that has plagued my thoughts with its potential meaning, I decided I was in comfortable enough company and I took the plunge with my question.

“What does that mean?” I turn towards Julian. My question seems to be shocking because Julian gazes at me in astonishment, and Asra looks embarrassed. Even Muriel looks shocked.

“Asra! This is a question for you,” Julian looks uncomfortable trying to shift my genuine question to Asra as he takes another sip of his tea.

“I uh… well I guess I never did teach you everything,” he laughs nervously. Muriel lets out a chuckle. “But maybe it’s best if we talked about this later”

“Asra please!” I reach across the table a grip his hands. “Just tell me” I can see a flush form on Asra’s face. Julian looks to Muriel as they both chuckle, Julian more than Muriel.

“Asra, what does fuck mean?” I plead. Julian starts howling with laughter, nearly spilling his drink. Muriel lets out a snort. This is the most emotion I’ve seen him express ever. I can’t help feeling embarrassed that I'm the only one who doesn’t know. Asra lets out a sigh.

“Well uh, remember when I had to explain some swear words to you? It's like that but it’s a little harsher than other words,”

“Well, what does it mean,”

“Depends on the context my friend,” Julian waggles his eyebrows at me. Asra elbows him in the ribs earning a wince from the redhead.

“Well um, how do I explain it? You use it in multiple ways,”

“Such as?”

“Well, you can use it as an insult?”

“Like ass?” I know that one.

“Y-yes” Asra clears his throat and looks down into his teacup. Julian continues to chuckle as Asra and I go back and forth.

“Oh, you could use it for more than just an insult,” Julian leans in eyes shifting between Asra and me.

“Ilya!” Asra says through his teeth.

“Asra, you have to tell them,” Muriel chimes in.

“Well you can use it as an exclamation,” Asra seems more and more uncomfortable by the second but I can't understand why.

“Like Julian did just now? Cause he got a bad card?”

“Uh yea like that, but I would avoid using it,” Asra reaches for his tea and takes a sip. “You know what we need more tea I'm gonna go make some,” Asra gets up and heads in the completely opposite direction of where the tea is stashed. My gaze shifts to Julian.

“Julian, please tell me what it means,” another snort escapes Muriel and Julian flushes.

“Oh uhh well it can also be used to describe um… activities…” He avoids my eyes as he speaks. suddenly flustered under the pressure of my apparently loaded question.

“Activities?”

"Er yes… you know activities?" Julian gestures like he's trying to get me to finish the sentence.

"I'm not following,"

"You said you heard the word before?" Muriel cuts in.

"Yes, I've heard it used a lot by the docks, and sometimes Julian says it but I never knew what it meant,"

"Well then just use it in that context," Muriel shrugs and then gets up to go wherever Asra is hiding. Feeling defeated I decide that these three won't answer my question.

"Fine, I'll ask someone else, someone who I know will answer my question,"

"And who might that be?" Julian questions, leaning back in his chair.

"Portia," in an instant I whip around and head downstairs towards the door of my shop. I hear a distinctive "NO" from Julian as I run. I slam the door behind me and head for the palace.

I wave hello to the guards as I walk over the bridge into the palace. Portia said she was unable to come over today because she's working. I'm sure me asking a little question couldn't hurt. I poke my head into the kitchen but I don't spot Portia anywhere. I check the ballroom, the library, the verandas, the drawing room. Just about everywhere. I'm starting to loose hope of my search until I quite literally run into a pile of boxes.

"Woah there!" the person carrying to boxes stumbles backwards but then steadies themselves.

"Portia? Is that you behind those boxes?" a tuft of red hair just barely pokes on the side of the boxes. Yup that's definitely Portia.

"Oh hi MC! Yea Milady wanted these boxes moved, and I was the only one available,"

"Would you like some help?"

"Oh thanks but I've gottem! You can help me by opening that door though!" She points her foot at a door a few feet away, to which I walk over and open. Portia places the boxes into the small closet and then dusts off her hands.

"So, not that I don't want you here, but why are you here? I thought everyone was at your shop?" Portia's smile is warm and inviting, but I still shift my weight out of embarrassment.

"They are, but I wanted to ask you a question," Portia gives me an encouraging nod. I wring my hands together and finally speak.

"What does fuck mean?" Portia's smile falls and her eyes go wide. She then bursts out laughing. Not the reaction I expected but better than avoidance. She stops laughing when she notices my lack of laughter.

"Oh! Oh you're serious!" I give her a nod. "Well uh... You can use it a lot of ways,"

"Like as an insult?"

"Yea exactly, but also you can use it to describe an action,"

"What kind of action,"

"Oh, hrm well you can use it like "let's get fucked up" like when you get drunk with friends," I nod quickly, noting the phrase into my memory.

"What else?"

"Oh uh... well um... when two people love each other very much-"

"Pasha!" a voice cuts in. We turn to see Julian, Asra, and Muriel turning the corner towards us.

”Why did your run off like that?” Asra asks me.

“No one was answering my questions!” I shift my glare between the three standing in front of me. They all cringe with embarrassment.

"Oh my, I was not expecting guests today," Nadia makes her way around the corner and stops when she sees all five of us.

"Oh milady! I wasn't expecting them either I apologize," Portia chimes in.

"No need for apologies Portia, my friends are always welcome, but what are you all doing here?"

"Well you see-"

"We were just-" Asra and Julian speak at the same time. Muriel lets out a huff and approaches Nadia. He signals for her to lean in and whispers something in her ear. Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise and her gaze shifts to me.

"Oh my," she says bringing a hand to her chest in shock, composed, but she still seems surprised. Muriel nods in response as he rights himself. "Well I feel I can resolve this situation," Nadia gestures for me to approach her and she leans to whisper in my ear. What she tells me answers the question I've been asking all day. I flush a little in embarrassment but I guess it makes sense.

"That was it!?" my eyes snap to Asra and Julian who are trying to look around innocently.

"My these er, moldings on the ceilings are quite nice, can't say I noticed them before," Julian tries to change the subject.

"Asra, c'mon it wasn't that serious," I say, folding my arms.

"Ah, yea I guess so, sorry for driving you to find other sources,"

"It's ok, sorry for running off," Asra and I exchange warm smiles. Nadia clears her throat.

"Well since were all here why don't we all relax on the veranda?"

"Yknow, all this running around has probably made us all quite thirsty," Julian's signature smug smile plasters itself on his face.

"Well I suppose some indulgence couldn't hurt," Nadia smiles back.

"I'll grab some bottles!" Portia says.

"I'll go with you," Muriel mumbles. The two of them walk off towards the kitchen. Nadia puts her hand on my shoulder.

"You will be joining us yes?" I give her a nod. I look Asra straight in the eyes and try to laugh as I watch the blood drain from his face with what I say next.

"Let's get fucked up,"

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana muriel #the arcana portia #the arcana nadia #the arcana fic #asra alnazar #portia devorak #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #crow writes

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britishassistant · 4 years

Text

The Villainous Paranoiac Just Wants An Uneventful Holiday (Part 1)

This is not how you wanted to spend your break.

The school was supposed to be empty. Everyone except the Octavinelle trio was supposed to be gone.

Not to say you don’t enjoy your friends’ company but. No magic-using people means no magic-spewing overblots.

You were looking forward to just bringing the fairies their firewood and working on your winter homework while taking the first opportunity in a good long while to unwind with Grim and the ghosts. No investigations to worry about, no weird dreams to get worked up over, no overblots to frantically try and survive.

You wanted a break.

This? Marching 10km into the desert with the rest of Scarabia dorm for the third day in a row due to their leader’s looming psychotic breakdown? This is not a break.

Although...

There’s definetely something rotten in Scarabia dorm, you think to yourself as you watch Viper-senpai hand out skeins of water. Kalim-senpai had no problem using his unique magic yesterday, and yet today he acted like Grim had mortally insulted him when he asked for a repeat performance.

If the outburst had been after two or three other instances of Kalim-senpai using Oasis Maker and receiving what he felt were insufficient thanks for it, then his current attitude would make a little more sense. But taking umbrage after using it just once? And being universally praised by everyone else the rest of the day for it?

It doesn’t add up.

Even deranged behavior has some sort of internal logic to it, as Rosehearts-senpai and the Rules of the Queen of Hearts have taught you. Even with how nonsensical all 810 rules are, it’s rare to find a scenario where one rule actually conflicts with another— all of them usually work smoothly in tandem with the goal of having an orderly unbirthday party in mind.

Even if they do violate most forms of dignity and common sense.

Kalim-senpai’s behavior though? It’s erratic without rhyme or reason, bouncing from nice to mean and back again seemingly as he enters and exits a room. He insists you and Grim stay and participate in this asinine “training”, despite the fact that you both belong to a different dorm, and are technically rivals to Scarabia in Magift and exams.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say it’s almost like he’s trying to imitate Rosehearts-senpai before his overblot—and doing poorly at it.

And with how much Viper-senpai has been invoking parallels between the current situation and what happened back then...

The smartphone Crowley gave you is a cold, heavy weight in your pocket. Its charge ran out yesterday, which is unsurprising given how many times you dialed and redialed the dumb bird headmaster’s number only to be met with his voicemail. You can probably recite that stupid message by heart now. You’ve heard nothing from Ace and Deuce either.

One thing is clear; no one’s going to help you out of this mess but you.

“Kalim-senpai?” You brace yourself as you step towards him. “Can I ask you something?”

“What could you possibly question me about?” He barks, glaring down at you haughtily.

“Well, I was just wondering, what’s the point of all this?” You fight to keep your nerve as his posture stiffens. “I don’t mean any disrespect, none at all, but you do want everyone to do better in Magift and exams, don’t you? I was hoping you could explain to me how the parades and defensive magic training are supposed to do that. I apologize for my ignorance, I’m nowhere near as smart as you, but could you please tell me why we don’t just practice Magift and brush up on the class material inst—”

Your head’s ringing.

You think you hear faint yelling, though it sounds like it’s coming from somewhere far away.

Your cheek aches.

Numbness blooming into a sharp stinging throb that feels like it’s growing with every second that passes, burning hotter than the sun above you.

You cautiously poke your tongue against your teeth, but none feel loose, thank the Seven.

Damn, the desperate, near-hysterical thought flits through your head. Even a pampered rich boy like him has strength behind his hits, huh?

The rest of you is just trying to process what the Hell just happened.

“How. Dare. You?!”

Asim-sama looms over you, red eyes burning with fury.

It’s a fight to keep yourself from curling into a terrified ball under his gaze, tucking into yourself as though seeing less of you would abate the anger, the shouting, the hurt, like you used to when you were a child.

“You dare to question my methods, my leadership of this dorm?! You? A sniveling street rat leeching off my hospitality?! Do you know who I am?!” He rages. “I am Kalim al-Asim! I am the Head of this dorm! I don’t have to explain ANYTHING, justify ANYTHING to the likes of you!!”

You knew, you knew you were pushing your luck when you first asked, but you thought it would just be yelling, like it was before. You can handle yelling, nothing Asim-sama can say could ever be worse than what you’ve already heard.

You didn’t think he’d hit you.

You didn’t think—

“DON'T YOU TOUCH MY MINION, FGNAH!”

Your arm whips out almost on instinct.

You jolt forward slightly as Grim collides with it, hissing and spitting like he really was an irate cat, the flames in his ears flaring brightly enough that some detached part of you is worried about getting burned.

The other Scarabia students are reaching for their magic pens.

“Lemme at ‘im! Lemme at ‘im!!” Your friend howls, fighting to get past you. “Forget butt on fire, I’ll BURN IT TO A CRISP FOR HURTING MY MINION!! I'LL STEAL EVERYTHING YOU HAVE AND SELL IT FOR LUXURY TUNA!! THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR CROSSING THE GREAT GRIM—”

“No, Grim.”

Your friend halts in his flailing to stare uncomprehendingly at you. “But Yuu—!”

“It was my fault.” You say, trying to keep as much emotion out of your voice as possible. Tears and trembling only show weakness, only make them worse. “Asim-sama was just correcting me. He was right to do so. I shouldn’t have questioned him. I overstepped my bounds.”

Asim-sama sniffs. “At least you know your place. Be glad I don’t punish you anymore than this.”

“What?! He slapped you for asking a question, you can’t possibly believe—” You gather Grim into your arms and hug him close. You quietly thank the Great Seven you at least have him, trying to hide the quiver in your limbs by burying your face in his fur.

But that’s exactly why you can’t let him do this. It’s just the two of you, you can’t win against an entire dorm of wizards like you did against the ghosts. Maybe if Ace and Deuce and Jack were here...but it’s just you. You need to protect your friend in the only way you can. “We can’t win this. Please, Grim.”

You feel him grumble, then a paw carefully pushes at your forehead. “Hrm...I’ll show mercy for now, so geroff already. It’s too hot for you to keep hugging me like this, I’m cooking here fgnah.”

Despite saying so, he settles onto your shoulder, tail smacking your arm as it flicks irritably.

“If you’ll excuse me, Asim-sama.” You duck your head slightly. “I will remove myself from your sight and head back early as penance for my behavior. Once again, my deepest apologies for insulting you.”

Asim-sama gives you a curt, dismissive nod.

You turn and make your way through the crowd of Scarabia students, snatches of muttered conversations floating to your ears.

“How could he—?”

“Just for a question?”

“Isn’t that going too far...?”

“Unforgivable...”

“Prefect.” Viper-senpai takes you by the shoulder, turning you to face him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You reply monotonously, eyes on the sand below you. “Just...just need to be by myself for a bit.”

His lips purse and you can feel him study your face. He presses a full water skein into your hands. “Take this. Even if it’s not as cold as I’d like, it should help with the swelling some. Plus you need to stay hydrated out there.”

“Thank you, Viper-senpai.” You nod, keeping your eyes down.

“And Prefect?” He squeezes your shoulder, voice lowering only a fraction. “I am truly sorry about this. All of this. It will not happen again, you have my word.”

It would’ve been a nice apology, had you not caught a glimpse of a smirk on his face.

You nod, making sure not to outwardly react to that or to the way the whispers of the other Scarabia students turn from the condemnation of their dorm head to the exaltation of the vice dorm head. You begin following the tracks in the sand back to the main dorm.

The sun beats down on your back as you take a swig from the skein and pass it to Grim to drink from. He’s still grumbling about how you should’ve let him recreate his rampage at the entrance ceremony.

For your part, the distance and good company have let you pull yourself out of that headspace enough that you can try and look back objectively on what happened.

Your mind keeps circling back around to one question: why did Asim-senpai hit you?

Based on your interactions before this, Asim-senpai doesn’t seem to be the type to resort to physical violence as a first response, or even a last one. Which means something in your question likely backed him into a corner enough that the normally pacifistic dorm head felt lashing out physically was the only way to get you to stop.

...Like the fact that he couldn’t answer it?

Even when screaming abuse at you, his ultimate response was that he wouldn’t explain himself to you. Is that because he didn’t want to? Or because he couldn’t? Does Asim-senpai himself not know the reasons behind his own actions? But how can someone act without knowing or meaning to, without being under the influence somehow?

Under the influence.

People acted without knowing or meaning to thanks to being under the influence of Buchie-senpai’s Unique Magic during the Magift incident. But he went home, you saw him leave, so what...?

You pull out your notebook, flipping through the pages with sweaty hands until you get to your records of the testimonies from the incident. You scan through the testimonies from Scarabia students, hoping to find something, anything—

Oh.

“Motherfucker.” You hiss, staring at the page in dismay. You are an idiot. You are the biggest idiot, you make Deuce look like a genuis, how could you forget about this?? It was only the key testimony that helped pinpoint Buchie-senpai and Savannahclaw as the culprits behind the injuries. And it explains so much— why you kept agreeing to stay here despite wanting to go back to Ramshackle so desperately, almost like your mouth was speaking without your consent.

“Minion?” Grim asks, pushing the water skein back onto you. “What’s wrong?”

You snap your notebook shut and slide it back into your pocket, taking another fortifying swig from the skein. “Grim? Think we can get back soon enough to work on the escape route in our room before the others arrive back for lunch?”

“If we pick up the pace a bit, yeah.” He hops back onto your shoulder. “But what’s the rush? We have all night tonight to work on it.”

“Let’s just say the sooner we can get out of here, the better.” You mutter, cogs and gears turning in your head as a tentative plan begins to form.

This is not how you wanted to spend your winter break.

#my art #my writing #experimenting with combining the two!#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland yuu #villainous paranoiac yuu #twst yuu #kalim al asim #twst kalim #jamil viper #twst jamil #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #twst chapter 4 #was a Bad Time for Yuu #don’t imagine how guilty and horrified Kalim will be once he wakes up #and realizes he HURT the Prefect

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

Text

Guess Again

Day Four of Harringrove AUgust, Profession AU! Steve runs into a hot guy named Billy on his plane flight back to Indianapolis, and Billy lies about what he does for a living, then, laughing, admits he lied. The prize for this guessing game: an exchange of phone numbers.

Steve found his seat, in coach, because that was the only seat available on the overbooked flight into Indianapolis a week before Thanksgiving. He shoved his carry-on under the seat, and wedged himself in the limited leg room, opening his laptop to answer the emails that had been pinging his phone before the plane was ready to take off, and he—blessedly—had to go into airplane mode.

He barely even noticed the guy wedging himself in to sit by the window, and trying to get the damn table to stay up. Steve typed away as the busted table mechanism flapped onto the guy’s lap over and over. Finally, Steve grimaced, glancing over. “You can use my table,” he offered, registering only that the guy was tattooed, and kinda...hot. “I’ll put this away as soon as we taxi to the runway.”

“It’s fine,” the dude said, smacking the floppy table with a sigh. “Not like there’s a meal on this flight.”

“You can lean in and share my pretzels,” Steve told him, grinning over, and was met with big, long-lashed blue eyes, an annoying mustache, and curls that curved around an attractively firm jaw.

The guy nodded, and put the broken table away. “...kind of a workaholic?” he asked, probably because it was nearly ten o’clock at night, and Steve was glaring at his screen and typing emails like his survival depended on a high word count.

He snorted a laugh. “I left them all until now,” he said, grimacing. “They really don’t need my input, but if I replied earlier, they’d just ask me something else. Something they could google.” He narrowed his eyes at an email from a coworker who’d actually emailed to ask for exact details of what was allowed under the sexual harassment policy. Talk to HR, he sent back. Creep, he thought. He finished the last of the replies, hoping he wasn’t sending anything too weird in his distraction, and closed his laptop. “Um. Sorry. What do you do?”

“I sell life insurance,” the guy said immediately, with a toothy grin. “I’ll sell you so much insurance on this flight.”

“Uh,” Steve said, blinking at him. “Umm...oh.”

“That’s a lie,” was the dude’s followup, and Steve stared at him, starting to regret his offer to share a table, or catch the flight at all. “I don’t sell life insurance, I swear. I promise,” the guy said, laughing. “God, your face. I just...my job is...I started telling people I sell life insurance, so they wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I can just sit over here,” Steve offered, pretending to zip his lips.

“No, no, it’s, uh. Sorry I lied. Talk to me, it’s a long flight.”

“Why do you have to lie?” Steve had to ask, and the guy grimaced.

“My job’s kinda awkward,” he said, laughing.

“Are you a...porn star?” Steve asked, trying to figure out what kind of job would get the worst people to talk to you, and the dude cracked up.

“Jesus, no, but thanks for the ego boost,” he said, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“Um. What about…” Steve thought, opened his mouth, and then closed it. “Can I guess?” he asked, grinning, and the guy snickered.

“Sure. Give it your best shot. Just don’t tell me any horror stories.”

“Do you embalm bodies?” Steve tried, already holding back a tide of questions, like did you ever drop one and have to fix a broken nose.

“Nope!” said the guy, turning to lean more against the window, to face Steve. “How many tries do you want before I just tell you?”

“Oh, no, no, lemme guess,” Steve said, thinking as they came around asking for drink orders. “Horror stories...um. Are you a soldier?” he asked, wide-eyed, and the guy laughed again.

“No! No, nothing like that.” He leaned to see Steve’s ID as Steve pulled it out to order a beer, and Steve grinned.

“I’m Steve.”

“Billy,” said his mysteriously-employed seatmate, offering his hand, and Steve flipped it over investigatively.

“You don’t have those, like, love/hate knuckle tattoos,” he said, feeling like a detective. “So...maybe not a biker?”

“I’m not a biker,” Billy snickered. His hand was warm in Steve’s. “Is that even a job?”

“Oh! Oh!” Steve leaned forward, sure he had it this time, and Billy moved the armrest between them out of the way. “A writer?”

“What?!” Billy laughed, which probably meant Steve was wrong, but he argued his point.

“People tell you horror stories,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “So—so probably everybody tells you they have a great idea for your next novel—”

“No, uh. One clue,” Billy said, grimacing. “They’re true stories.”

“True stories,” Steve said, going to cross his arms in thought, and realizing Billy hadn’t taken his hand back. “Uh, what do I get if I guess right?” he asked, squeezing Billy’s hand, and Billy snorted a laugh, grinning like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“I dunno, I feel like Rumpelstilzkin, you want like my firstborn or—”

“No, nope,” Steve made a face. “I got enough kids around, thanks. Oh—” he blinked, realizing how that sounded as Billy started to pull his hand back, and lean away, “—not, like, I’m not a dad, I don’t have a wife and kids or anything. I just have some little shitheads that come over all the time and eat all my popsicles and pizza.”

“Oh good,” Billy said dryly. “I’d feel terrible if holding my hand ruined your marriage.”

“No other knuckles can fulfill me, now,” Steve said soulfully, and then when Billy burst out laughing, Steve couldn’t hold a straight face.

“You know how fucking dirty that sounds, right,” Billy whispered, rubbing his face with the hand Steve wasn’t holding, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get you to fist me on the plane,” he hissed back.

“Coward,” Billy shot back, and then they started giggling again, like they were ten.

“True horror stories,” Steve repeated, later, as they leaned together over the napkin on his tiny airplane table, where he was keeping track of the guesses he’d already made. “True horror stories. Are you a reporter?”

“God no,” Billy said, making a face. “Imagine this many tattoos in front of the news cameras? We’ve got a ways to go before they allow that.”

“Oh, true,” Steve nodded. “I mean, unless you worked for, like, a tabloid. Circling everyone’s stomach in pictures and writing ‘BABY BUMP?!’ on it.”

Billy jumped when Steve yelled ‘BABY BUMP’, and half the plane twitched and mumbled. “Fuck no!” he hissed, laughing. “Ssh!”

“Huh,” Steve said, studying the napkin. “Oh! Um,” he grimaced. “Police officer?”

“No,” Billy growled, and Steve nodded, writing that down and crossing it out, and sipping his third beer. “We never worked out what you got if you guessed,” Billy said, watching.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve agreed, nodding. “Uh, what about...dinner?”

“We’re gonna land at like six in the morning,” Billy pointed out, and Steve fingergunned him.

“Breakfast.”

Billy laughed. “I dunno if I’m willing to put out on our first plane trip together.”

“Lemme get you, like, bacon and eggs,” Steve said, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows, “—and my phone number.” He smirked as Billy cackled, leaning his head in the window.

“Yeah, okay. Gimme some breakfast sausage, Steve,” he said softly, the overhead reading light making his curls glow a little, like a halo.

“Now I haveta figure it out,” Steve said, frowning at his list, and Billy’s fingers twitched towards him. Steve grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together, and accepted another beer from the flight attendant. “I wonder how many beers that is,” he said, prodding at the label with his thumbnail. “I think they’re like ten bucks a pop.”

“I bet the alcohol will really help you think,” Billy said dryly, and Steve made a face at him.

“Shut up, I got it. I got it this time,” he said, tipping his head back for a long, satisfying drink of beer, and wiping his mouth. Billy’s mouth hung a little open when he finished, and Steve licked his lips, grinning. “You—you’re a doctor. A—a doctor of butts. A butt-doctor.”

Billy started laughing so hard, silently, that Steve was starting to wonder whether he could breathe.

“I’m right, right?” Steve said, taking a triumphant swig, and Billy shook his head, wheezing for air.

“You mean a proctologist?!” he gasped.

“Yeah, and you understood fine,” Steve told him, annoyed.

“I’m not—I’m not a butt doctor,” Billy choked out, tears of laughter in his eyes. “I don’t have a doctorate in ass—”

“Your loss,” Steve muttered, glaring at the napkin with the list. “Man, my cousin is one, and he has some stories. Dude, that’s everything, that’s every damn job. Ever. Do zookeepers get told horror stories?! Oh!” He pointed the beer bottle at Billy. “Dentist!”

“No,” Billy giggled, his hair rising with static in the dry air of the plane, and sticking to the wall and window behind him. He looked ruffled and fond, and Steve squeezed his hand again, trying to think of what he’d missed, before the plane landed, and he’d spent the entire flight guessing jobs, and Billy hadn’t even given him a last name.

“Shit,” Steve said, then straightened again. “No, okay, this time,” he said, the beer making his words a little soft around the edges, “This time I really have it. You’re a Mickey Mouse person.”

“I’m a what now,” Billy said, still snickering.

“You know,” Steve said, his eyes narrowed. “You crawl up the ass of one of those suits and let kids think you’re a Disney princess.”

“No, Harrington,” Billy said, breathlessly, as he shook with laughter. “No, I do not. Do people tell mascots horror stories?! I don’t even want to know. Which princess? Just for scientific curiosity, Steve, which princess do I crawl up the ass of, in your brain?”

Steve tried to remember them all. “Not Jasmine,” he said with certainty. “Um. Wait, Peter Pan? Maybe?”

“Peter Pan’s not a princess,” Billy choked out, wiping his eyes as he tried to muffle his laughter.

“Hrm,” Steve said, accepting another beer and huffing a sigh, but Billy leaned in suddenly and just kissed him. His lips were warm and chapped, and Steve hummed happily against them. Their teeth bumped, a little, because Billy was giggling so hard, and Steve was grinning so wide his cheek muscles ached.

“I’m a drug and alcohol counselor,” Billy said with a grimace, and Steve glared at his beer, betrayed, "—so, um, horror stories. Yeah."

"I just have butt-doctor horror stories," Steve said quickly, trying to salvage the situation, and he shoved his beer behind him.

Billy laughed harder, shaking his head. "I’ll still take that number,” he whispered, kissing Steve again—and snickering, his cheeks flushed. “And breakfast?”

Here’s my other Harringrove stuff! Or check out the Harringrove AUgust collection on Ao3! Add something! =D

#Harringrove AUgust #Harringrove #Profession AU #Meet-cute #Fluff and banter

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