#I've seen people say that the reward took too long

[songmingisthighs]

Maudit

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xiv - demerit

cursed!jongho × reader

genre : mythology!au, smau

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

wc : 1.7 k

a/n : sorry that this is a bit late, i'm having some crisis irl ✌️

buy me coffee ?

so long i've been here, so long are the stories i've written. of what i gathered and lost, loneliness becomes me and pain refuse to depart from me. i've embraced that which ate me away so when you came along, i had no part of me left to give.

You always thought that Jongho was an interesting man. Since the moment you saw him at the supermarket, struggling in the self check out counter and then struggling with using his credit card, you knew he didn't belong.

Initially, you had assumed he was probably from the countryside. Or even Amish, that's why he seemed mildly perturbed with technology. It wasn't until you saw what you initially thought was a tattoo just a teeny bit lower on his neck that you realized that he was someone who had been cursed. Having been a history major, you got severely intrigued which was why you followed him out of the supermarket and eventually wore him down to the point of getting him to employ you by simply pointing out how much he needed you to survive the modern world. Being near someone who had been around during and through historical events, often hearing snippets of how it was in the past. It was worth all of the headache of managing his estate and personal affairs. To a certain extent of course, he still wouldn't let you in too deep, especially about the reason for his curse.

So seeing him wandering about in front of your campus, trying to peek in was almost equally intriguing.

"You don't seem like you belong."

Jongho snapped his head when he heard your voice and without him realizing, his shoulders relaxed and his chest felt less heavy.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, arms crossing in front of your chest to shield you from the evening breeze which Jongho mistook as you trying to seem tough. "I came to see you," he said, shoving his hands into his pocket, as if what he said was the most normal thing he could say. You nodded slowly in acknowledgment, "I can see that. You have been asking around for me to random people? Why?"

At your question, Jongho's fingers felt slightly tingly. He had prepared to say what he wanted to say after his talk with Hongjoong and he knew he needed to, it was just rather hard, to say the least. Jongho didn't know if it was pride, shame, or a sense of ridiculousness, but any or all of it made him slightly lightheaded and so he took a seat on a nearby bench.

Seeing this, you slowly sat next to him and waited.

"I... I don't think I'm human anymore," Jongho started, idly looking anywhere but you.

"What, do you think you're a vampire or something?" you joked, causing Jongho to give you a deadpanned look before he sighed, "No, nothing like that, it's just..." he paused for a moment, thinking of a way to share his point. "I've been living far longer than humans meant to live, I've seen more things than any other person has, and trust me when I say that it was mostly bad and I can't get out of this state. Trust me, I've tried. I'm human but I live as if I'm not and it still boggles me to this day so at some point, I decided to just... Not be. I decided, that the thing that made me human was emotion and attachment and they were the things that made it hard for me to move on, go forth with the long sentence I have to endure so I let it go. I let the human side of me go and it didn't occur to me until you came along that it was wrong of me to let that happen. However long I have lived, I'm still human after all, nevermind the company I keep. So... (y/n), I'm sorry for the way I have treated you. You were so patient and so understanding with me, not to mention very helpful and yes, while I reward you with a fair wage, I did not reward your proactive kindness whatsoever so please, please come back to me so I can prove to you I'm not a complete monster and that I can make it up to you."

To say that you were surprised was an understatement. You were flabbergasted because you wouldn't expect to receive such confession from Jongho. Out of all the things you imagined, this scenario would not even make it to the brainstorming session.

You shifted in your seat before opening your mouth, "Jongho, what... What made you say this?" you asked, genuinely asking and your voice conveyed pure curiosity, no hint of mockery or suspicion which Jongho didn't fail to recognize. "Not seeing you after leaving just like that made me uneasy. I hated the thought of me subconsciously hurting you and forcing you away and even pushing you to quit working for me because I was just... A big idiot," he stated, looking away from you so he could maintain his composure and not say anything stupid to preserve his... dignity?

"So... You thought that I wasn't gonna come back and the thought was so bad that you actually come here to hunt me down even if you don't know if I was gonna be here?" you couldn't help but crack a grin at the notion. Jongho sighed exasperatedly but there was a slight redness dusting his cheeks that was conveniently hidden by the dark. "Well, it wasn't like I didn't have any plan. You kind of announced your whereabouts on social media and I just... I had to try," his voice got lower and quieter nearing the end but you caught everything perfectly thanks to the quiet surroundings. "Uhuh, but you still came out here JUST to look for me, right?" Jongho seemed to be even more embarrassed and when he turned to look at you, you had to admit that his annoyed face was adorable, like a sulking bear cub. "If you're just gonna mock me, I'm just gonna let you be and find another history enthusiast to help me survive or something. Or maybe I'll just suck it up and ask Yeosang hyung or something because believe me when I say that it took courage and preparation to come here, you hear me? I didn't even-"

You knew that Jongho rambles when he's embarrassed and he tends to not stop until someone stops him so you had to take action. You grabbed his arm which effectively stopped his rambles. "Jongho, I never planned on quitting work. I left a note on your desk to let you know that I had to take some time off because I have finals. I initially thought about sending you a text or something but after our last interaction, I was feeling petty so I decided to just leave a simple note. I swear it's there, you must've not seen it," you pointed out. Slowly, Jongho's face changed to confusion and you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning before he answered, "B-b-but I didn't see any note, at all! I checked my desk and hell, not just my desk, I checked everywhere because Wooyoung hyung went to Seonghwa hyung's library and I had to make sure in case he-"

The look on both of your faces was priceless as the possibility dawned on you two. For a moment you both could only stare at each other before you broke into a fit of chuckles as Jongho face-palmed himself. "I'm gonna kill him," Jongho muttered to himself, dragging his hand down before he stopped grumbling to look at you. It was odd, he was usually annoyed with your antics but this time, after he bore himself to you, he realized how much he liked the sound of your laughter. Even after your laughter died down, your smile seem to make him feel lighter.

"So... You were always planning to come back?" Jongho asked, this time seemingly less... Animated. You nodded at his question, "Yeah, of course." "So... I was worried for nothing?" he mumbled, cheeks feeling warm again. Luckily for him, you giggled and shook your head immediately, "Hey, it wasn't for nothing, Jongho. Had you not worried, you wouldn't be here right? You wouldn't have made the realization, conclusion, and determination, and we wouldn't have this talk which I'm so glad for. I've always wanted to be closer to you not just because you're an interesting person, Jongho. I also wanted to do it because I don't just consider you as someone I work for, I want to be on a more personal basis, you know? So I'm super glad this happened," you grinned, giving him assurance.

Hearing your response made Jongho glad and with the same determination, he nodded to himself, "I'm glad this happened too I guess. But, I promise, once you're back, I will try to be more open with you. I can't promise anything instant, but I can promise to try. Does that... Does that sound okay?" It came as no surprise that you enthusiastically nodded but the reassurance that you were okay for him to try with you felt really nice.

Remembering reality, Jongho cleared his throat and stood up, shoving his hands into the pocket of his pants, "W-well, I should let you get back to... The inside?" he glanced at the building. Realizing that you still had to go back to studying for your test, you let out a huff but nodded and stood up, "Yeah, I guess I have to go back now." Jongho nodded and motioned for you to go in. You nodded at him and waved as you walked backward to the entrance, "Bye Jongho, thank you for coming. If you have anything to say, you can text me and I'll make sure to answer you." Jongho didn't even notice that he was smiling when he nodded at your offer, "Sounds good. Good luck on your test, (y/n), I know you'll do great," he waved.

Truly, having the talk with Jongho made you feel giddy. So as you turned and jogged back inside the study hall, you felt even more ready to tackle your test. Maybe because you wanted to do well, but maybe because you wanted to get it over with so you could go back to work. Either way, you had Jongho to thank.

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[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Leona Kingscholar - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Leona: Who'd've thought I'd get to lay my eyes on paintings that I've only ever seen in artbooks like this…?

Leona: That's the Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art, for ya. This'll probably be good for perusing.

???: Heey, the King of Beasts's got a great lookin' mug in this painting.

Floyd: I wonder what's goin' on? Oh hey, Sea Lion-senpai, you tell me.

Leona: Huh? Why should I have to explain anything to you?

Floyd: 'Cause you're right here. But hey, if you don't know nothin' about it, that's cool too?

Leona: Tch… Fine, whatever, just don't start something annoying. You better get lost after this.

Leona: In order for him to establish his ideal nation, he required cooperation from the hyenas…

Leona: Once he came to that conclusion, he himself went to where the hyenas lived in order to negotiate with them.

Leona: There, he spoke at length as to how he could best utilize their strengths and abilities. This painting depicts that scene.

Floyd: Uh-huh. 'N so, what'd the hyenas do? They just went along with what the King of Beasts said without causin' a fuss?

Leona: The hyenas were already pretty hated. And the king was offering a trusted position directly under him.

Leona: It was a tremendous boon for the hyenas, from their perspective. So, of course they took him up on his offer.

Leona: He didn't let what society thought of them sway him, instead he gave jobs to each hyena as what suited their individual abilities…

Leona: This single moment shows just how accomplished the King of Beasts was as a ruler.

Floyd: You think so? I know I wouldn't like having someone sizin' me up and choosing what I gotta do～

Leona: It's the same with sports, ain't it?

Leona: Imagine having a good shooter stuck on defense, or a spindly guy on offense…

Leona: If the team goes along with a coach that gives asinine directions like that, they'd lose even the easiest of matches.

Leona: That goes for both you all in the basketball club, as well as us in the Spelldrive club.

Leona: Anyone can be useful, even if they don't have the constitution or strength.

Leona: For example, if you got a guy who's got nimble fingers, you just gotta put 'em where they can steal the ball or disc from the opponent.

Leona: Then, you use someone who can stay in control of game and send them towards the goal.

Leona: There's no need to have everyone rushing around the field. Any number of tactics can be used to score goals.

Floyd: I get what you're sayin, sure, but whaddya do if your teammates don't listen to what you say?

Floyd: See, I don’t like doin' anything if it's boring, y'know. There's tons of times I get bored in the middle of a basketball game, too.

Leona: Heheh. What, they not giving you any rewards over there in the basketball club?

Floyd: Eh, you saying the Spelldrive club gets somethin' for winning?

Leona: That's right. We get the finest reward one could ask for:

Leona: Victory.

Leona: Our club runs on the merit system. Anyone who can't show their worth during a match gets dropped from the starting team…

Leona: But with just a bit of effort, anyone can get their chance in the spotlight and even find their names on the lips of people outside this academy.

Leona: Plus, this school throws a lot of support towards the Spelldrive team, so even certain grades can be overlooked from time to time.

Leona: Essentially that means each one of our victories matter much more than any of the other athletic clubs' wins.

Floyd: Hmmm… I thought you guys in the Spelldrive club were a bunch of try-hards, so I didn't think I'd like it, but I'm likin' the sound of that merit system.

Floyd: Maybe I'll join the Spelldrive club too. Don'tcha think I'd be great at it?

Leona: No way, absolutely not. …Also, how long you plannin' on following me? I'm already done explaining things, hurry up and leave me alone, already.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Floyd: Mmkay, next. What's this painting?

Leona: [sigh]… This painting's showing the Thorn Fairy's men all celebrating their master's endeavors.

Floyd: They're, what… dancing around a green fire? Looks kinda like a campfire! Bet they're havin' fun～

Leona: True, they look pretty carefree. Seems like the Thorn Fairy's subordinates don't mind doin' menial tasks.

Floyd: Menial tasks…? Oh, right, there's a ton of cleanup to do after making a fire, or something like that, huh.

Leona: An astute observation, little merling. I'd expect nothing less from someone so naïve in the intricacies of fire.

Leona: Here on the surface, even the smallest flame can grow into a blaze with a little mismanagement.

Leona: Especially in places where the air is dryer… like where I come from in the Sunset Savanna.

Leona: It's not that bad during the rainy season, but there's gotta be extra caution thrown to the wind during dry season. As a precaution, we've enacted regular fire drills.

Floyd: Uh-huuuh. Didja do those fire drills too, Sea Lion-senpai?

Leona: Yeah. Like I said, fire can be a matter of life or death in my country. That's why those fire drills are essential services.

Leona: It's a pain, but the royal family's gotta do it, to set a good example for our people.

Leona: Since a majority of the country get together to observe, it's basically just another huge traditional event at this point.

Leona: Although… Let's just say there's been times that I've had other things on my plate that I completely forgot to take part.

Floyd: Mhhmm… And so, what all do ya do during those drills?

Leona: To be perfectly frank, it's basically getting practice in with handling water. A buncha people'll hold onto a large hose and put out a huge fire in real time.

Floyd: Wow, that's lamer than I thought. Doesn't sound like much fun to just watch happen.

Leona: Oh, not at all. It's not so bad if you're just there to watch it go down.

Floyd: Eh, whyzzat?

Leona: Because they get to witness the glorious scene of the royal family being tossed around by a giant hose.

Leona: You might think that'll invigorate the gathered public, seeing how willing we are to risk their life for the country…

Leona: But if you ask me, I think there's something more to it.

Leona: People can see them in regal attire caked in dirt, and their miserable faces all swollen from the smoke in their eyes…

Leona: They can even see those well-groomed manes completely sopping wet and pathetic. I bet it bring a gleam of joy to them all, heh.

Floyd: Heh, Sea Lion-senpai, I see right through you. You say you'd sometimes forget, but you def haven't been takin' part in it for a while, haven'tcha?

Leona: Well now, who can say?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Floyd: Hey, I think this is a painting of when the Sorcerer of the Sands got his hands on a magic lamp.

Floyd: He looks like he's havin' the time of his life. Most of the Sorcerer's paintings are of him lookin' real smart and proper, so this one's kinda cool and different.

Leona: This tale is of one where he finally achieved his heart's desire after a long and difficult journey. No wonder he'd be ecstatic.

Floyd: You mean he worked super hard for that single lamp? Bet all the trouble he went through to get there was fun, at least.

Floyd: It's boring if you can just easily snag something you want. The more you want something, the more it's worth tryin' to get it.

Leona: Makes sense to me. So what, when I saw you slackin' off the other day, that was you trying your darndest to get class credit, or something?

Floyd: You're one to talk. 'Specially since you skip class waaaay more than I do.

Floyd: Wait, so you were in the botanical garden then too, huh. You shoulda said something, we coulda been skiving buddies～

Leona: Unlike you, I ain't all that impressed with conversation. I was taking a snooze in the tree shade.

Leona: I'd just found a good place to get some shut-eye, I ain't looking to waste time on idle prattle.

Leona: I prefer a quieter, cooler, more comfortable place…

Leona: Now, that would be a place worth sleepin' in.

Floyd: Ahah, that's some stuff to be picky about when you're just plannin' on sleeping there.

Leona: I ain't asking for much. At the very least, all I need is for you to not be there.

Leona: Trying to sleep somewhere noisy'll affect my sleep quality.

Floyd: What, you saying there's different types of sleep, now? Doesn't seem like where or how ya sleep really changes anything to me.

Leona: I am much more of a delicate being than you are, is all. If the quality of my sleep ain't pristine, then it'll slow down my thinking processes.

Leona: I ain't gonna be happy if I can't be quick on my feet and some conniving sneak tries to get the better of me.

Leona: At the very least, I make sure to increase the quality of sleep I can get in my room by taking precautions.

Floyd: Huh, like what?

Leona: I'd roll out a rug under my bed, for one. Even just doin' that'll keep the noise coming from the floor below to a minimum.

Leona: You got all the freshmen, four to a room. There's fighting and arguing over their personal space almost on a daily basis.

Leona: And it wouldn't do 'em any good if I were to intervene on their behalf every time they got in a tussle, right?

Leona: That's why I try a buncha different things to help keep the volume down. It's for all our sakes.

Floyd: You say it's for your underclassmen, but you're just doin' it to get some nappin' in.

Leona: Oh me, oh my. How absolutely wretched that you cannot even see just how loving and kind of an upperclassman I am.

Floyd: Uh-huh, sure… Anyway, I'm gettin' bored lookin' at all these paintings. I think I'll go look around elsewhere.

[Floyd leaves]

Leona: Yeah, yeah, get outta my sight already. Geez, his attention turns on a dime. Whatever, I guess I'll also… Hm?

Leona: This artwork depicts the scene where the King of Lions introduces his newly born cub to his people. Well now, what an absolutely cheerful looking spectacle.

Leona: When their belief in a future filled with hope is suddenly overtaken by despair…

Leona: I feel like I would be able to say this from the bottom of my heart: …Long live the king.

Requested by @farfalla049 and @sakurakudo.

[formulakatya]

THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE | MICK SCHUMACHER

"living in a movie i've watched and funny, cause you couldn't have called it, met you at the right time, this is what it feels like"

not my gif :)

summary: where your best friend is sick of you thinking your not deserving of love and so she introduces you to a certain someone

pairing: mick schumacher x professional golfer!reader

notes: i really wanna make a part 2 of this, so if any of you guys are interested in a part 2 please comment! loosely based off 'feels like' by gracie abrams

warnings: a universe where mick is in ferrari and ferrari aren't idiots, unedited work

-

the sound of your metal club hitting the ball pierced through the quietness of the morning. the skies were still painted hues of orange as the sun was rising as you watched the direction of the ball.

using your foot to roll out another ball in front of you on the grass, you adjusted your stance as you set up. gripping the club as you gave yourself time before swinging back and hitting the white ball.

“nice one!”

turning around to see where the familiar voice was coming from, you smiled as you saw lily. you hadn’t seen her in quite sometime after she left to attend the australian grand prix to support her boyfriend and to play a tournament. “lily!”

you had known lily since childhood having met her at a small tournament. and eventually, what was just being penpals, meeting at tournaments and visiting one another with always the same talks about turning pro had turned into a life long friendship. and, truthful to your dreams, both of you turned pro at the same time and got onto the lpga tour.

“congrats on the t5 finish,” you smiled as you hugged the older girl. “i watched the highlights, you were amazing! how was australia as well?”

“australia was fun, alex bagged a p8 so he was quite happy about that,” she spoke as you two pulled away, going to her clubs which she had put at the bay next to you. “enough talk about me, how about you?”

shaking your head, you shrugged, “same stuff— golf, study, rest, the gym…finals are over now so i might go do something to reward myself.”

“i guess one of us needs to have a university degree,” she joked. you were on your final year of your mechanical engineering degree whilst she had dropped out from her course; though you couldn’t blame her for that as balancing university with being on tour was a difficult feat. “how about the rest?”

“the rest?” you asked, confused as you approached your golf bag, switching the club you were going to use. shortly, it dawned on you what ‘the rest’ meant. “still have no one, lily, you know that.”

“oh come on, (y/n)!” lily rolled her eyes, “please! i have some people that i can introduce you to!”

“lily…” you sighed, “i’m too busy with studying and practice half the time. romance just isn’t really something in the books right now and i haven’t exactly earned one.”

“how are you going to be smart enough to do engineering but dumb enough to believe that you have to earn love,” lily shook her head. “please, just let me introduce you to someone.”

“…and who is this person?”

“you’ll see, just follow me to monaco.”

“what?”

—

“lily, i hope you’re sure about this…” you mumbled as you two made your way around the paddock, the older girl clearly more familiar. “i feel a little out of place…and everyone else is—”

“quit that nonsense!” she let out a smile, “you look gorgeous! you’ve got the best paddock outfit in my opinion.”

“yeah, thanks for helping me choose an outfit,” you shyly smiled as you walked alongside lily as she showed you the ropes of navigating around a formula 1 paddock.

of course, you were familiar with the sport having been a formula 1 fan since you were young but being inside the paddock was a completely different experience for you. looking at the garages where the mechanics and engineers were hard at work, you adverted your attention to your best friend who had took your hand.

“alex!” she smiled, greeting her boyfriend before saying hi to the rest of the drivers. “oh, and i brought (y/n) with me!”

“oh my god, i’m starting to think you like her more than me! even your dog loves her more than me!” shaking his head, alex rolled his eyes, “how could you,” he playfully slapped his hand against his chest, pretending to be hurt by your invite to the weekend, “she’s literally responsible for ‘albolognese’!”

unable to hold back a laugh, you smiled, “you should take that as a compliment.”

“why?!”

“because the spaghetti was good!”

“the nickname is so bad!”

“no it isn’t!” you justified, “you had red hair and you cooked a really good spaghetti bolognese, calling you ‘albolognese’ is only acceptable.”

looking at his girlfriend hoping she would come into defence, alex let out a groan and a loud ‘come on’ upon seeing her struggle to hold back a laugh upon the interaction between her best friend and boyfriend.

“anyways,” you cleared your throat, still smiling over the dumb joke. “hi everyone, my name’s (y/n), i’m lily’s best friend. nice to meet you guys.”

“oh! you’re (y/n)!” one of the drivers which you recognised as mick could be heard. “lily always talks about you! hi, i’m mick.”

“i hope it’s all good things,” you smiled, glancing at lily who gave a playful smile and shrug. “nice to meet you.”

“mick! maybe you could show (y/n) around!” lily suggested, catching both of you off guard, taking alex's hand. "patrick is probably looking for alex, so we're going to be at the williams garage, see you!"

lily's intent crystal clear to everyone else except mick and you, everyone quickly making excuses to leave so that it was just the both of you as awkwardness settled in.

"uhm..." mick spoke, trying to figure out where to go next, "i could show you around the paddock?"

"yeah, that'd be nice. thank you, mick," you smiled as he took the lead, following behind him as he acted as your guide around the formula 1 paddock where risk met reward.

"you look really pretty- uh- your outfit is really nice," mick complimented, trying to break the awkwardness. but though the main intent of it was so there was less tension, the compliment was no less of genuine.

"thanks, lily helped me choose it," a giggle was let out, as you looked at mick who seemed to ease up as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"that's my car over there," the german spoke as he pointed towards the red car boasting the number '47' on it. "it's my first season with ferrari so i'm quite excited for the race and monaco is practically the crown jewel of formula 1...sorry i'm rambling."

"it's okay," you smiled, "it's the monaco grand prix! i mean, yeah, the track has no mercy and overtaking must be a nightmare but it's monaco. you win here, you're already one of the greats, plus ferrari has been competitive this season."

eyes widening, mick couldn't help but let out a grin, "formula 1 fan?"

"since young," you hummed as you walked next to him, "been a ferrari fan forever!"

as you continued your conversation as the german driver showed you around the paddock as both of you talked about anything from racing to your sports careers to your daily lives, you couldn't help but enjoy his company though having known him for a short time as you took in the sounds of the formula 2 and 3 cars and the smell of fuel and burnt rubber.

"hey, uhm, do you wanna go for dinner after the race on sunday?" mick asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "i mean it's fine if you say no-"

"i'd love to," you smiled as you soon exchanged phone numbers and social media handles with each other.

observing you two in secrecy, lily and alex watched as you became comfortable around each other.

a smile spread, "they like each other, definitely," lily sighed contently. "the eyes never lie."

[porphyriosao3]

Day 7 - Family

(Author's Note: this is a continuation of the same scene from Day 6, Mother)

Later, after the roast and potatoes had been served and duly enjoyed, the washing up done, and the evening drinks poured, Bilbo surprised himself by saying "You asked earlier about my family."

Thorin nodded, a cautious expression on his face. Bilbo had been able to tell that the dwarf wasn't certain of his reception with any such question, yet asked them anyway. He loved him more with each passing moment for such thoughtless courage. "I did. My apologies if..." Thorin began, but Bilbo leaned over from where he sat and pecked him on the cheek, causing a flush to rise and the flow of words to cease rather abruptly.

"No apologies needed, silly thing," the hobbit chuckled. "I was only surprised because you so rarely mention your own family. Fili and Kili I know, of course, and they themselves have told me of their mother though you have been startlingly reticent on the subject. Tell me of your mother. I feel I barely know anything about you beyond what I've seen." This was the sort of social bagatelle that everyone in Hobbiton knew how to interpret, and it was Bilbo's startling ill-fortune that the recipient of this statement took it literally. Nodding once, Thorin squared his shoulders and began.

"My family was not as yours. In my childhood, the center of my family was always my grandfather Thror, not my father Thrain. As king, he was... well, you've seen how the dwarves treat their kings. I am told that he was kind to my father and my cousins when they were young. He was... otherwise by the time I was small." Thorin's face had become cold and remote and Bilbo wasn't sure whether to hug him, change the subject, or punch himself in the face for such a clearly ill-advised question. "He was mad. I see that now. I felt that, in my own way, when the gold took... took..." He shuddered and Bilbo resolved the matter by throwing his arms around Thorin before he even thought about it.

"Forget I asked," Bilbo said. "You are past all that now, my love, and I am here, and you are here, and none of those problems are here with us." Thorin smiled over at him, still with a hint of that distance in his eyes.

"No, it is right that you know. You were right to ask. I am not proud of the history of my close family, but if you are to be tied to me, you should know of these things. My grandfather was gold-sick before ever the dragon thought of us at all. Losing the mountain... unhinged him completely. He was raving as we fled, shouting curses at all of us as we carried him away from the ruin of our home." Thorin sipped his wine, hesitating for a moment, and Bilbo ached for the pain in his eyes. "He left us all one night. Slipped away with only a retainer from where we all slept in Dunland. He and Nár went to the gates of Moria, Khazad-Dûm, the original kingdom of our people, lost these thousand years to orcs and evil, and we were told he went inside alone. His head was flung from the gate by orcs not a day later."

"Thorin..." Bilbo shuddered, the image clear in his mind. "That's terrible. I'm so sorry."

"That event began the War of Dwarves and Orcs. Stupid name, but it was a stupid war that never should have started." Thorin glanced down, mouth a tight line. "My grandfather's madness and hubris embroiled us all in a vendetta that slew far, far too many. The orcs died by the legion, but so what? Dwarves died too, good dwarves, for whom there was no reward possible to claim. Even if we killed every orc in the entire world, still we could not return. Durin's Bane was still there."

"Durin's... Bane?" Bilbo said, hating to ask but curious nonetheless.

"We don't know what it is, but some great evil came up from the depths long ago," Thorin sighed. "It slew dwarves by the hundreds by itself. We have only records of fire and darkness that walk with it, but it remains. While it is there, we cannot return. Legend says Durin himself will come one last time to lead us back, but..." he shrugged. "At any rate, my brother Frerin died in the last battle. My father lost his own wits. My mother..." he stopped, tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh Thorin... Lady of the Green, I'm so terribly sorry," Bilbo said, cradling him as best he could. "None of that is your fault, though. So your mother died in that battle along with your brother? I didn't even know you had a brother," Bilbo murmured.

"No," Thorin snorted, "she wasn't there. We try our best to keep our women off the battlefield if we may. There are too few already. No, my father took my brother against her wishes. She was pregnant and about to bear... a fourth child would be," he grimaced and shrugged. "The best omen. Dwarves are not very fertile. My mother knew my father had to go, he was the king, but my brother... he was far too young, just a pebble practically. Far too young. My mother died in childbirth as my brother died to orcs. My sister has never forgiven our father, and likely never will; I cannot say for certain she does not blame me as well, in part, though I was only the heir."

Bilbo's mouth set firmly at the very idea. "If she is anything like the dwarf I understand her to be from her sons, she is far too sensible for such a thing," he said sternly. "And I will hear no self-recriminations from you, my dear. None of that coil is your fault, and none of it is anything you should bear the blame for. You, yourself, Thorin Oakenshield, were the one to take a mountain and a home back from a dragon, and you did not cause a tragedy in so doing. You, Thorin Oakenshield, are a hero to your people, and if your family has sinned, well, to me you have redeemed it." He kissed Thorin on the tip of his nose, something that always made the dwarf snort and grin. Thankfully, it produced the desired effect. "I shan't be argued with on this!" he said, wagging a finger somewhat ridiculously.

"I shall not, then," Thorin said softly. Oh why must he look at me like that, Bilbo thought. Just when I think I must love him sufficiently already he makes it even worse. Drat the dwarf! Fine. If he hadn't had a supportive, loving family up until now, he would have one going forward. Belladonna Took's memory demanded it.

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ — chrome x reader [PGR] [Happy Activation Day Chrome!!]

please don't be in love with someone else

a.n. - sometimes chrome just raghhhhhh. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHROMEE!! I promise to finish that other fic for you LOL also thank you for being one of my resilient lil construct, my Lucia and Wanshi are happy to be with you <3 mwa mwa (IM SORRY AGAIN IM LATE)

pairing - chrome x f!commandant

words - 7,881 (it's why I took long TvT)

tags/warnings - none. fluff! alcohol is involved yet again! chrome x reader shenanigans. yall up to what happens in the end uwu. non-sexual naked cuddling. cute stuff for chrome because happy activation day!!

The stars seemed to have blessed Babylonia tonight.

A crowded room. A brightly lit, dazzling chandelier. Wine and champagne glasses clinking together. Orchestral music filling the room — this is a sight that those who can afford luxury would generally see in their life. High society placed itself on top of the pedestal, overlooking its body that wore no gold.

Forget the war that raged outside; Babylonia beheld the grandeur of the rich folk for tonight, and the stars had rewarded their presence by granting the brightest evening for them.

Such sight is normal to a Smith. After all, they were always born with a silver spoon, to feed and to be fed by high society, for everyone to see.

But not for Chrome. He always thought this life was never fit for him.

There he is — champagne in hand, forcing laughter and faking smiles to those who are around him. Humanoid legs are already used to the wages of war, yet they trembled under the hours of talking to people that only blur in his M.I.N.D.

He is only here due to his father, Mr. Smith. “For you to be familiar with the people you will work with in the future,” he always said to Chrome, “be on your best attitude. Show them the makings of a true Smith.”

But they only bore him. He would rather be doing things that are mundane in the eyes of high society, such as lounging in the comforts of Strike Hawk's dormitory; dealing with Kamui's antics, helping Wanshi fix his sleeping pod, tasting Camu's dishes...or cleaning the corners of his room, or strolling the walkways of Babylonia, or playing chess with a certain someone...

A scene flashed in his memory — a warm hand reaching out to him, a sweet smile, a soft laugh, and the chessboard with scattered chess pieces in front of him. A scene that happened not too long ago, a memory so fresh that made him flush a light shade of pink. Was it the alcohol? No, usual alcohol would never make a construct drunk, unless...?

“How are you holding up, Chrome?” A familiar voice called out to him.

Mr. Smith. Holding an identical champagne glass in his hand, he looks up to Chrome with an expectant gaze. Chrome straightens, clearing his throat. “Mr. Smith, I am doing well. I have met the people you told me earlier.”

“Glad to know,” He nods, “it's beneficial as a Smith to meet your future prospects. You know that already, Chrome, don't you?”

“I do, Mr. Smith,” Chrome solemnly spoke.

“Other than that, have you seen the Commandants who are invited tonight?” Smith tsked, “they have commendable records. They seem to enjoy tonight's feast before they go back to war once more. Especially Gray Raven's Commandant, hm.”

Chrome's ears perked up. “Gray Raven's Commandant is here tonight?”

He knew the party was for high society, with some specially invited commandants. Yet, Gray Raven's Commandant? He overlooked that part, why didn't he know?

“Yes, it's understandable due to the glory they have brought to Babylonia countless times now.” Smith paused, moving his hand to make a circular motion with his glass, “I've seen them earlier. Now, they are nowhere to be found.”

“Ah,” Chrome slightly faltered, muttering, “a shame.”

“They also seem to blend well with us, I'd say.” Smith hums, taking a sip from his glass now, “they look well with us, even. We should try asking them to join when they retire.”

A particular thought crosses in Chrome's M.I.N.D. — a person wearing a simple dress amongst the crowd yet so vibrant, the same warm hand he saw as she held onto his arm, smiling fondly at him. The very thought that somehow made his heart crumble in a good way —

“Chrome?” Smith asked, causing Chrome to snap back to reality, “are you alright? You look red.”

“I do?” Chrome muttered, “I'm sorry. There must be something wrong with my cooling system after I got injured last battle. I am planning to get a maintenance check once more.”

“Alright then,” waving his hand, Smith nodded, “I'll leave you be. I need to meet with other people.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” Chrome approaches the nearby table tp place his glass, “I will return soon.”

Finally, away from the party, Chrome found himself lingering outside. The garden outside of the hall seems to be the answer to his dilemma, the cool breeze and the artificial night decorated with the authentic stars sparkling above him. He breathes into this sight — once more, a thought that popped into his M.I.N.D.

“The sight may be beautiful in Babylonia,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, “but the ones here on Earth are prettier.”

Bright irises staring at him with a gentle gaze amongst the dark plains, a genuine smile on your lips, “don't you think so, Chrome?”

The memory shook Chrome, his heartbeat skipping. What was it with him lately? Thinking of a particular person that he holds with high regard? It seemed unlike him, the man who only thought of perfection. Battles and tactics are his expertise that makes up his thoughts, yet such stray memories and incredulous scenarios have distracted him since his recent rendezvous with that certain commandant...

His hands tremble. They seem lonely. A small part of him wishes those familiar hands would hold them right now.

Gray Raven's esteemed Commandant. The very thought of her makes Chrome weak. He who should maintain a professional, beneficial relationship with her. Yet, thoughts beyond that relationship seemed to have spawned in his M.I.N.D.

Chrome entertains that thought to no avail. After all, a small part of him wishes he should have seen or heard from you tonight.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star~”

Yes, something like a nursery rhyme that is sung by you. Sometimes, Chrome thinks you drove him insane to the point that he's having hallucinations of you.

“...how I wonder where you are~”

Wait. That voice seems closer and familiar. Surely, he wasn't dreaming. Chrome rushes to the source of the voice.

“up above the world so high,” the voice hiccupped, “like a diamond in the ska-ay~!”

Chrome thinks this sight is one of the best he's ever seen: sitting on the ledge of a fountain, gazing at the water beneath, your sky-blue dress nearly submerged yet you didn't look like she minded; in fact, in your hand was a glass of unfinished wine, and your face seemed too pleased with your antics, a contagious smile written on your face.

Gray Raven Commandant in the flesh. And drunk. (According to Chrome's readings anyway)

“Commandant!” Chrome's voice - shaking? - echoed throughout the garden, making you look, “Over here! What are you doing?”

You finally look at Chrome, your usual bright eyes laced with tiredness and mirth. Upon recognizing the figure that was approaching you, you cheerfully raised your glass to him.

“Hello stranger!!” your shoulders shake with visible joy, “you're hereeee, come on, come on! Join me in watching the fishies~”

Stranger? Perhaps the alcohol fogged your senses. “Fishies?” Curious, Chrome follows where your hand points, to the fountain...devoid of any fish, “I...see?”

Instead of fish, Chrome could recognize that the 'fish' the Commandant referred to are the coins that people must have thrown into the fountain. The reflection brought by the moonlight highlighted with the pattern underneath the fountain must have tricked you into thinking she was talking to fishes. Not wanting to break your delight, Chrome plays along.

“I named that lil' blue fish Lee, because he looks grumpy.” You giggle as you point to a blue-shaded coin, “then that pink one is Liv!”

“That's cute, Commandant,” Chrome chuckles, opting to sit at a considerable distance from you, “who else did you name?”

Lights over the garden seemed ethereal. Haloed with the gentle glow of the skies, the white noise of the party inside the hall, and the mellow laughter of the Commandant — Chrome could easily capture this memory for a lifetime, although you couldn't recognize him. He could try taking away the glass in hand and tell you that you're drunk, but he does not. Instead, he asks more about the 'fishes' you found. And somehow, you went silent.

“Commandant?” Chrome gently pokes the silent Commandant, “are you alright?”

“Mmm,” closing your eyes, you tapped your chin, “stranger, I can't see Chrome...”

The nickname seems to grow on him now. “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe he's sleeping.”

“Fishies never sleep!” opening your eyes just to stare at Chrome, “that's basic knowledge!”

Chrome could finally see you properly: the dress snugly fit you, the train already submerged in the water. Some strands of your hair framed your face perfectly. Alcohol flushed your cheeks in the shade of pink. Irises that still lit brightly amidst the dark, a sight Chrome could never forget. Blinking to come back to reality, Chrome reached out to brush away the strand that was on your lips.

“Some fishes sleep with their eyes open.” Chrome smiled, “but what you said is still, it's true, Commandant is always smart.”

A smug smirk flashed on your lips, arms crossed to assert her amusement, “hm! I told you!”

One of the sleeves fell to your arm as you moved. Flickering to that, Chrome spoke before reaching out to lift it, “Yes, of course. Commandant, are you not cold?”

“Nope!” Somehow filled with a new burst of energy, you drunkenly placed the glass in front of Chrome, making Chrome reel back, before struggling to stand up on the ledge with the heels on. Chrome acts quickly, aiding you by holding your legs for support. “I realized something!”

“Commandant! What are you doing, get down!”

“I need to find Chrome!” you spoke with such reverence, it could make Chrome cry, yet it only made him scared, “he could be drowning!”

Drowning? “Commandant, I know you're smart,” Chrome hesitates, before speaking, “but fishes don't dro-”

“-I know what I'm doing!” you grin at him, rotating your arm as if exercising and exhales, “that's why I'm going to save him from this ocean!”

At that moment, Chrome realizes where he went wrong. “Wait, Commandant, no!”

At least he tried to stop her.

A shivering Commandant is wrapped in Chrome's coat for tonight.

“Are you alright, Commandant?” Chrome spoke as he ran through the streets, “do you still feel cold?”

After the stupid attempt at jumping head-first into the water, Chrome had to save you - even after trying to get away from his hold. Now, you were tightly wrapped in Chrome's coat, carried like a princess in his arms.

Sneezing, you shook your head furiously, “I'm fine, you stranger! Why did you stop me?”

“The waters in Babylonia in the evening get colder. I don't want you to suffer from hypothermia.”

You whine, before sneezing once more. “I was fine! Oh well, I managed to get Chrome though.”

“You managed to- what?”

Fishing out of his hold and the coat, you childishly held out a white and blue-tinted coin. Chrome could only sigh in disbelief.

“Also, put me down, you stranger!” Attempting to wiggle out, you whine more as Chrome tightens his hold on you, the familiar way illuminated by the lights already in sight, “my mama said not to trust strangers!”

“Right,” Chrome laughed, his heart skipping a beat, “don't worry, I'm taking you to Chrome right now.”

Halfway through the run, you drifted off to sleep (and it granted Chrome the opportunity to see you comfortable with your guard down). Finally, they arrived in front of the Smith Estate.

Carefully opening the door, Chrome is met with a comforting silence. Were the cleaning robots still around? He knew his father wouldn't be around until the next day, which meant the robots were the only company. Stepping inside, he finds the place deserted, the faint sound of the Commadant's breathing filling the room. Placing you (not minding the water dripping off of you) to his room on his bed, Chrome rushes to the kitchen.

Still no robots around. Easy to explain and less hassle to explain why a stranger was in his bed. He'll worry about that the next day. Quickly, he grabbed a few pieces of food from the fridge and concocted a hangover drink and water.

Upon returning to his room, Chrome finds you still asleep on his bed. Silently placing the items he brought for you, Chrome wistfully gazes at you.

“you're always taking care of me, Chrome,” you'd say if you were awake, your voice echoes in his M.I.N.D., “I want to return the favor.” (You are now corrupting his thoughts.)

A little stir from you made Chrome snap out of his daydream. Slowly opening your eyes, looking around your surroundings in a daze, Chrome leans down to check on you.

“Commandant,” he softly calls out to you, hand touching yours, “are you awake? Can you sit up?”

“Mmmhm,” rubbing your eyes as you sat up, Chrome aiding you, “where am I...?”

“You're in my room. I will take you back to Gray Raven's headquarters when you've freshened up and rested. Come on, drink some water.”

Your legs dangle on the side of Chrome's bed as you sat up. Your figure, although shivering from the stunt, still seems smaller than him. Chrome reached out to grab the glass of water and hold it out for you, but you only stare at him.

“Commandant?”

“Ch...” you whisper, slowly lifting your cold hands to cup Chrome's cheeks, “Chrome...”

His heart flutters at the call of his name. With a free hand, he caresses the hold on his cheeks. “Commandant?”

“Why are you...hot?”

Chrome's cheeks burn at your touch, he noticed. Was it really the cooling system, or that his growing fondness for the Commandant of another team making him like this?

“The cooling system,” he chose the first option, “I'm trying to get it checked, don't worry.”

“Mmh, Chrome...”

Your innocent, sleepy eyes were looking at him. And you were leaning closer to him. A human instinct, Chrome leans forward as well, until their foreheads touch.

“...Chrome. Why don't you call me by my name?”

It feels expensive. It feels surreal. He wanted to tell her, but the words die in his throat.

“I will only do so, if you wanted me to do it, Commandant.”

“Mmh.” Your breath fans Chrome's own lips, further intensifying the heat in both of your cheeks. “Then, Chrome...”

He closes his eyes. Closer, closer...until you pulled away so abruptly. And then, a warm liquid spilled across his chest.

Chrome's eyes opened. Sometimes, the timings are uncanny.

—

A bathtub full of bubbles, lavender dousing the room with its intoxicating smell. Near the bathtub, Chrome sweats nervously as he stares at the guilty figure sitting on the toilet.

“I'm sorry,” the Commandant, who was usually strong and courageous in the face of danger, shrunk in guilt, voice timid and remorse, “I didn't mean to puke in front of you.”

“It's alright, it's not your fault,” he dismisses it, smiling slightly, “I was planning to get you changed...”

He is already wearing a new set of clothing, compared to you. After that quick nap, you seem sober. But based on Chrome's readings, you are still far from being sober. At least, you recognize him now. Squeaking, you shook your head. “I can't just let it slide. Is there anything I can do for Chrome?”

Kneeling on one knee, Chrome awkwardly pats you. “It's okay, really. Um...”

A reddening blush was on Chrome's cheeks as the words died in his throat. He motions to your soiled clothes, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather his pride.

“Commandant, I am going to...” whispering, “...I'm going to take off your clothes so you can...um, take a bath.”

You stare at him. Blinking tired eyes at him, you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

You turn your back on him, presenting the zipper on your back. For you, it seemed normal (Liv and Lucia are always hands-on whenever you are invited to events like this, so they're seen what's behind those clothes). But Chrome, whose ventilation was now out of place from the possible outcomes running through his head, was shaking and turning into a blushing tomato.

“You can unzip me, Chrome,” you pipped, noticing Chrome's silence, “I can't reach the top.”

A shaky exhale from Chrome. He mutters something you couldn't hear, but could feel the small pressure from his hand holding your hair to the side before resting on your shoulder.

“I will...start unzipping you, Commandant.”

It feels...intimate. The way Chrome held onto the zipper with care, thoughts running wild in his M.I.N.D., dragging it down slowly. You notice it, despite the alcohol fogging your thoughts. The sound of Chrome's nervous breathing, the water dripping from the faucet, the bubbles on the tub — it almost makes you sober.

However, a question seemed to linger on your lips. But before you could ask, Chrome had already unzipped your dress, the sleeves finally down on your shoulders.

“I-I'm done, Commandant.”

You turned to Chrome, a smile on your lips, “Thank you! But...are you...okay...?”

“Yes.”

You weren't that convinced. In front of you, Chrome's hands shook, and his face was in the deepest shade of red. You tilted your head to the side, before shimmying out of your clothes. Yes, still in front of the man who has been nothing but an angel to you.

“I'm done!” You excitedly quipped, standing up, causing the dress to fall to the floor. “where am I going next?”

Seemingly snapping out of his trance, Chrome looks down to pick up your clothes and dashes to the door. He stops by the door frame, his back facing you. “I need to put your clothes in the washer. They'll be ready after you take a bath.”

“Chrome, will-”

But he was already out of the door.

Chrome remembers every part of the laundry process, even without help from the robots. Yet, even though he has loaded up the washing machine (he knows it'll be done in at least 2 hours, clean and fragrant), his hands are still shaking, the memory in the bathroom turning his mind into a haze.

Even when he closed his eyes after he unzipped your dress, or when he heard it drop to the floor, he couldn't help but imagine — how your skin must feel under his touch, soft or smooth; the expanse of your back, would there be goosebumps like when you touch him; would there still be a smile on your face even when you would know about his feelings?

He accidentally slams the door of the washing machine too hard. It's all pointless, really; all he wanted was to show how eager his rapt attention, yet terrified that he may have crossed unwanted boundaries. Maybe he needed some rest. That's right - it has been a long week anyways. Sighing, he leaves to go back to the bathroom, in case you fell back to sleep...

— except, he called it too early.

“Chroooome,” you cried out as you whimpered in the tub, bubbles covering everywhere but your face, “I'm drowning!”

Suffice to say, he wasn't going to be relaxed tonight.

The water was warm.

And so was the hand that you wish you held onto as you dangled your arm on the ledge of the tub, reaching out to Chrome, who sat on the floor. You wanted something - but the golden boy wouldn't budge.

“Join meee,” you pouted, “don't you see I am a lonely girl sitting here so lonely?”

The light of the bathroom casts a glow over Chrome's frame. The sound of the water splashing around, paired with his humming, sends your mind in a close lullaby, you fear you'll only fall asleep at this rate.

“I see you well, Commandant.” He shook his head, “however, I will stay here.”

“Mean.” Huffing, you sunk to the comforts of the bubbling water, feigning annoyance to him “At least I could wash your hair...you said you'd allow me to see you with your hair down...”

“Commandant,” it's a surprise how Chrome could still hold his composure, voice calm and cool, “you are drunk. You are also very dirty, so it's best you wash up now and get dressed in something warm.”

“I'm not drunk!” Exasperatedly raising your hands, you glared at Chrome, “and I can't wash my hair...”

You look at him expectantly, to which he stares back with curiosity. Pointing to your wet hair, you whispered. “I always wondered what it's like to have my hair washed.”

“And?”

“Will you...wash my hair, please, Chrome?”

Crossing his arms, he thinks for a moment. “Will you promise not to do anything stupid?”

“No.”

As he scoots closer to you, you reeled back. Chrome mistook it as something else, when he sees the look on your face.

“...don't tell me you are planning to wash my hair in that.”

“Pardon?”

“Strip!” you pouted, “I get fussy when someone isn't touching me.”

In an instant, you see Chrome's cheeks tint a shade of pink. “Commandant, that sounded...”

“Hurry up,” you yawned, scooting a little closer to the faucet on your legs, “I won't look.”

True to your word, you look elsewhere but wherever Chrome was. Raising your hands high to your face (look how pruned they are, the longer you stay), before the shuffling of clothes and the sound of cautiousness tiptoes its way into the water, beside you. From your peripheral vision, you see two hands reach out to hold your open hands — have these hands looked so lonely until Chrome came?

“Look at you,” he huffs, fingers caressing the pad of your pruned fingers, “you should have been faster.”

You find comfort in this cramped space — the warm water that you're doused in, a familiar body close to yours, a heat that you never realized you've been craving all this time. You crawl; on Chrome's legs, your scent intertwined with the smell of lavender, you hope it rubs on the man beside you. Unknowingly, you crawled further, until your back hits the sturdy structure of Chrome's physique, leaning back to curl up in his chest.

“Can we stay like this?” the words slipped past your mouth, faster than you could have noticed. Without a word, his hands drifted to the expanse of your shoulders, your arms, your clavicle.

His hands rest there, as your body relaxes in his embrace. The subtle, erratic beating of his heart is there, it's not a surprise when yours mirrored his. And you smell the hint of vanilla on his skin, forgetting that he's humanoid in these very small moments. Yet, you breathe into it, the smell lulling you to sleep faster.

“If you want to,” he mutters, “I thought you wanted to rest.”

“I do, but I feel comfortable when there's someone else.”

The quiet snap of the shampoo bottle opens. Along the way, he places his hands over your head, gently massaging the tips of your hair to make the shampoo bubble, to your scalp. Gentle, soft as he held you like this. The way he pours the water over your head, careful enough to not let it reach your eyes. You must smell like lavender now; the scent already sinking into your skin, like how Chrome's warmth was seeping onto your cold ones. His touch felt unreal, it makes you want the world to freeze for a moment and only behold this scenario for a long, long time.

“Commandant,” even his voice was a whisper, movements slowing to a stop, a telltale sign that he's done, and a little emotion was hanging on your chest - annoyance - “finish up washing now. Your hair is done.”

A dissatisfied grunt escaped your lips. Sitting up straight, you turned to him, hands outstretched. “Let me wash your hair too.”

Slightly looking down from your chest, his eyes shot up to meet yours, the blush that was on his cheeks already invading his ears. “N-No. This bath is only for you, Commandant.”

“Pleaseeee,” you dawdled, brushing away the bangs that covered his face, “I want to help you.”

Although hesitant, he lets you anyway; you, crawling to straddle his thighs, reaching out for the shampoo on your right. His eyes were carefully trailing your movement, which made you shrink under his grasp, but you never minded (after all, the both of you are naked in front of each other, what else was the difference?). You mimicked his movements: massaging the scalp, entirely focused on how you moved your hands on him.

“You're so pretty, Chrome...”

“Huh...?”

“I'm drunk but you're still pretty.” you giggled, booping his nose, “in the morning, when I'm sober, I know you'll be prettier.”

You thread your hands into his hair now, forgetting that bubbles should come out, but you're too focused on everything around you, drowsiness coming to catch you.

“Your hair,” you mumbled, aware of his hands placed on your waist, “...it feels really soft.”

“Does it?” He chuckled, eyes closing, “I'm glad you think so, Commandant.”

Commandant. A title you've always worn, but the way he called you that, a gnawing feeling crammed in your chest — with that pretty mouth of his, a stray thought made you think: what would it be like if he were to say your name?

“You never call me by my name.”

Turquoise irises locked with yours. Unable to pull away, mesmerized by the magnitude it beheld as you stared at each other — you wanted to speak, but Chrome beats you to it.

“I- I never thought I'm allowed to say it.” Looking away, the flush you've seen earlier came back and dusted his cheeks, “we never established it before.”

“Call me by my name then, Chrome.”

You wonder how your name would sound when it leaves his lips. You wonder, if the sound of your heartbeat reverberates if speaks, if he calls you in a name hidden behind your title — and for a moment, you've realized.

“[Y/N],” it is quiet, a soft tone calling for your name, “[Y/N],”

All you could do is close your eyes. Your mind is racing. The sound of two people, breathing in the silence, in the warmth of another's presence. The bubbles are now dissolving in your fingers and in his hair, you're certain the ones on your head are gone too. Were you still drunk, or had the intensity of your feelings reached its threshold? It made your mind spin, and your fingers tremble. What was going on?

“Did that sound weird?” You opened your eyes to find Chrome's worried gaze. Still realizing the situation you're both in - and yet you were both comfortable now - you opened your mouth, only to close it.

You realized you've always liked Chrome all this time.

And the way he said your name is far from what you've imagined. You breathe in once more at his appearance: disheveled hair coated in shampoo, flushed cheeks in contrast to his pale complexion, doe-eyed in the shade of the light. Of course, you had to fall for this man. And it made your heart ache - alcohol or the touches alone? Who knows.

“No.” You quietly spoke, looking away, hiding the blush on your cheeks, “I...want to get out now.”

Chrome doesn't say a word. Instead, he stood up and left you there - confused, in a daze. When he comes back, a pair of clothes were on his arms.

“Can you stand, co...I mean, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for the clothes.”

You spoke by the time you re-entered his room, the oversized shirt hanging loosely on your body. You looked at your appearance in the mirror twice before leaving the room, where you'd deemed it was good enough, however; judging by the way Chrome was staring at you intensely, head to toe, you couldn't help but wonder - is something wrong?

Chrome must have changed the sheets first, the shade of blue occupying the space on the bed. He now stood behind a smaller stool, a hair dryer in hand. You awkwardly stood, gesturing to the sight behind you: “I promise I'll repay you back when I get back.”

“The shirt,” He looks away for a moment, before clearing his throat, “it looks...good on you.”

You looked down — the oversized white shirt with the print fading away reaching down your thighs, just above your knees. At least, you were wearing something to combat the cold, yet your back catches the wetness of your hair, which made your temperature drop further. Noticing this, Chrome motions you to sit on the stool.

You are compliant with his wishes. He starts to turn the hair dryer on, before carefully handling your hair. In front of you was a tall mirror, which must have been Chrome's height. As he gently starts to dry your hair, you take in your surroundings - it's your first time in Chrome's room. As they say, the bedroom reflects its owner; tidy, neat, and everything in place. Various books with small print on the spine you couldn't make out on the shelves, the Queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. A perfectly neat study table with a few papers here and there near the dresser of the bed. It brings you to shame, how cleanly Chrome sets up his room which is far different from yours.

It reflects; your senses in a daze as you feel Chrome weaving through your locks, attentive to how his turquoise irises are on his masterpiece. Your eyes look up at his face once more.

“You also look good with your hair down.”

His attention flickers back to you. It's true - he looks more human this way, hair framing his face. Blinking slowly, he sheepishly laughs. “Ah, I always have my hair down after a shower. Do I look weird?”

“No.” You admit, “you look handsome still.”

Another wave of silence washes over. You realize you're more sober this way, the guilt of not talking too much gnawing on the back of your throat. But you are thankful, Chrome takes the opportunity.

“You are wearing my shirt that the F.O.S. gave,” humming, he brushes away the hair on your back, heat radiating off on your back, “they gave it shortly after graduation. I took it before father could notice.”

The hair dryer shuts off. He places it on the dresser, eyes still on your now-dried hair. You asked, “does your father not want you wearing these things?”

“He thinks it's useless. After all, medals and honor are the only valuable things the college would give to you.”

“But I see that it seems well-used,” you smell the cologne Chrome uses every day, “like you've always worn it.”

His hand is on your shoulder, tracing the outline. “Shortly after my Construct surgery, I always wore this. Anywhere as long as my father wouldn't see.”

A thought where Chrome wears the shirt comes to mind, in bed, clutching the fabric. Holding a handful and raising it to your nose, you spoke, “is there a reason?”

But he only sighs. “I am a Construct.” He looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, “I am made for war. I threw away my humanity a long time ago.”

Those words tugged a hidden emotion in you. Spinning to meet his figure, you craned your neck just so you can properly look at him. Words are bubbling in your mouth, but it comes out dry.

Yet, you try anyway. “It's true that you're made for war, but you shouldn't be denied of these...”

“It's alright, co...[Y/N].” The call of your name sends your heart into somersaults, “I've learned it the hard way. There is no need for me to feel that way anymore.”

“Besides,” he added, as he got on one knee, smiling, “it's time for you to take a nap. It's past 2 am now. I wouldn't want my Commandant to be sleep deprived, yes?”

“I-” you looked at Chrome, you don't pretend you didn't mishear his words. Looking at his irises, you took a deep breath.

“The first time I saw Chrome,” you began, “I always thought you were attractive.”

That caught his attention. Tilting his head with an eyebrow raised, he curiously asked, “I'm sorry?”

“I wondered why a human like me was roaming around the city ruins that day.” You fidgeted with the hem of your clothes, “But then, I saw your inver-device.”

Ah, this memory. Chrome remembers it fondly. In the heat of dispute, where Lee had been injured badly, he doesn't remember if it was the situation at hand or the way the sunlight shone down on you that day - either way, he always thought it was something for that moment.

“It didn't change one bit of my impression of you.” You take a deep breath, “I think...it became something else.”

Your heart beats chaotically. You're sure it's the alcohol, but you're also aware that it's your feelings shaping at this very moment. Your hands tremble with want - to hold Chrome, to hold his hand.

“Something else?”

“I don't see you as a Construct, Chrome,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his chin, eyes trailing where your finger touched, “I see you more than that.”

You're aware; his gaze on you, as his own fingers shake as they touched yours. Such feelings have echoed in your mind, and you are afraid they wouldn't go away unless you tell them upfront. Are you scared to be rejected? Too bad, you're not; let the alcohol drain all your fears tonight.

“I don't want you to keep calling me 'Commandant'. I don't like it when you see me as someone from F.O.S., but I like it when you touch me, or when you're close to me-”

His hand is holding yours now. Firm, gentle. He's in front of you, and you swore you could see the future reflect in his irises. It's warm, the way he grasped your hand, fingertips touching his lips. His eyes are closed - a single kiss on every finger, mouth muttering some kind of prayer.

“[Y/N],” he whispers on your fingers, gazing at you with an expression you've never seen him make before.

Loving. Adoration. Something along those lines. It claws on your stomach, inching up to the top, that if you opened your mouth you would regret.

“When I saw you at that time, I didn't know what to think. I remember thinking: would you only be another soldier I will see on the battlefield, regardless if dead or alive?”

“Am I the former?”

“A part of me thought so. But...”

He pauses, before taking your hand to his chest, a strong vibration echoing there. Your heart feels the same, it wishes to free itself from the cages of your ribcage and into whatever was in the middle of the both of you.

“If I were to lose you, I...wouldn't know what I'll do.”

Heaviness weaves in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, blissfully unaware of the distance left between your lips. “Chrome,”

“[Y/N], I cannot...”

“I like you, Chrome.” It is a genuine confession. You never lied. “I like you too much, that I feel like my heart can't handle it if you disappear on me, too.”

A confession that brought tears to your eyes. “I want to run away with Chrome. I don't want to be away from you.”

“I'm not going away.” He took you by the waist, propping you on his thighs, “I'm here.”

“Meeting you...being here with you...it feels enchanting.” You closed your eyes, blindingly touching wherever your hands meet, “Please don't be in love with someone else...”

Chrome feels like it's the first time for him to recognize the ability to love. The passion for studying, living in the moment where examinations take place, keeping everything orderly — it has always been how he always lived. Yet, for the first time — someone was here in his room, in his touch, in this space. It makes him greedy; it makes him wild.

“[Y/N],” his hands cup your cheek, nuzzling your cheek, “I feel the same way. I like you - I adore you. Every glory I will bring to you, it will be all for you.”

That confession triggered something inside of you - to bridge the gap between the both of you. Leaning forward, the urge to slam your lips to him right there and then grows fervently. However, a hand stops your advances. Pulling back, you are met with a blushing Chrome, looking at you in awe.

“Comman- I mean, [Y/N], as much as I want to kiss you...I cannot. I can't kiss you when you are still drunk.”

“But I want to, let me show you how much I like you.”

His hand easily slips under your shirt, warm ones grasping your hips, rubbing circles around it, “In the morning. When you are sober, when you are about to make better judgement. I will let you do whatever you want.”

A mischievous smile graced your lips. “Anything?”

The blush on his face became a darker shade. Shyly nodding, “Yes, anything.”

He eases into his arms. Lifting you up and carrying you to bed, a thought crosses your mind — you, in a long white gown, and him, in a silver tuxedo. You see him in the lights of the room, illuminated in this dark evening, his smile sending ripples of your heart into motion. You see him this way, your hand carrying a bouquet of flowers that you both love, your fingers intertwined with a ring of promise. In your thoughts he carries you like this, and you swore it felt familiar; one day, you wish. You would have to tell him in the morning.

But for now, the alcohol hits you harder more than ever, drowsiness threatening to shut your eyes. As you felt yourself dip into the mattress - his bed - you wish you could stay with him, the lingering warmth on your skin now fading as you feel him pull away. But your mouth is a jumbled mess, only opting for the fatigue to succumb to you. So, you use your hand, grasping whatever you could reach - his shirt, his hand, his arm.

“Don't go.” You beg, voice laced with grogginess and want, “won't you stay here?”

“I will be sitting here next to you. Don't worry, I'm not going away.”

“No,” your voice sounds like you're pleading now, “don't go, stay beside me. I want you to be beside me when I wake up.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Stay with me, Chrome.”

With a sigh, you feel the space beside you dip. The shuffling of sheets, the smell of lavender invading your weary senses. At last, warm hands enclose yours, before placing them close to his lips, one last kiss before darkness consumed your senses.

“Goodnight, [Y/N],” you knew he'd tell you that, “I will see you in the morning.”

Chrome doesn't see you in the morning.

When sunlight slipped through the windows, he woke up to an empty space beside him. Disappointment comes knocking on his door, calling out that he was only dreaming for something unreal, something that only humans would indulge in. Although the sheets prove that someone else was here with him last night, he doesn't dwell on that slipping hope. Instead, disappointment and frustration, paired with despondency, makes a home inside his chest and his M.I.N.D.

No longer interested in ruminating on the mattress, he drags himself out of bed. However, the robots that usually greet him aren't around still. But the floors and the walls on the rooms he passed are cleaner than what he saw last night.

Probably elsewhere. Probably at the garden.

But the glass door to the garden shows no signs of robots, at least where his sight can reach. No robots cutting grass or cleaning the pool. At times like these, they should've been around. Where were they?

A sound of an R5 cleaning robot chimes in nearby. Chrome follows the sound, and the sight isn't something he was expecting.

“You did well,” your voice feels like a cloud, floating amongst the sea of beeping robots, “thank you for your help.”

Your back faces Chrome. Crouching in front of a faceless R5 cleaning robot, you gently patted its "head", small giggles on your lips.

“You're a good robot, aren't you,” the sound of beeping seemingly mirroring an appreciative noise, “you're a very good robot.”

A sizzle comes out of the oven, to which you jump to your feet, scrambling to reach the stove. “Ah, it's getting burned!”

Chrome couldn't help but admire you; the way you move, your interactions with the robots although lifeless, and your cautiousness seemed to boost his adoration for you. It must have been his M.I.N.D., but the sunlight on your toes, his shirt that fits you perfectly despite being too big for you, and the smile as you tasted whatever you were cooking — it hits him harder. The want, the like, the adoration for someone he could never think he'd fall for. The feeling that his chest had earlier disappeared; only warmth began to repair its fractured roots.

“Chrome?” Your quiet voice called out, the beep of the robot chiming in, “you're awake.”

“And you're here.”

Is this what pining feels like? An unspoken feeling that settles deep between the distances of the two of you. He knows he shouldn't hope, when a night drowned in alcohol remembers nothing. Yet, the way your eyes seem to tell him something, he hopes to cling onto whatever was left in his pride.

“Good morning,” he spoke, aware of his morning voice now, “I apologize that you had to be the one to cook.”

“N-no, it's alright! The robots mostly did the work. I merely supported them.”

“Still,” he slowly approached you, timid footsteps leading to you, “the fact that you treat them as if they're human too speaks a lot.”

“It's even a surprise that they show no hostility to you. They are trained to fend off those who are unfamiliar in the household.”

“Commandant [Y/N] is welcomed.” the robot from earlier chirped, “helped us with housework.”

“Mr. Smith also invited me here once in a while to talk about politics.” You shrugged, opting to pat the robot once more, “I just did a favor for them.”

You nodded to it, to which it purrs in your touch. Satisfied, it happily trots away, probably deciding to work elsewhere.

Another silence. You've decided to go back and finish cooking the food, but the fire had long been doused (probably from the advancement of this stove?). Chrome wants to talk, yet no words could be formulated in his head. After the agonizing long silence, you took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

“I remember what happened last night.”

Chrome freezes. He looks up to meet your guilty eyes looking elsewhere. “You do?”

“I...am regretful that I puked on you. That's why I decided to clean up here as an exchange.”

Ah, so you don't remember what happened afterwards. Chrome's heart sinks, before noticing you looking away, and a creeping blush on your cheeks.

“I...also remember that I asked you to take a bath with me.”

Memories of last night came crashing over his M.I.N.D. The garden, the bed, the bathtub, the hair dryer, and your skin — all a mixture of things that only makes him go haywire. His blush mirrors yours; that means one more thing.

“I also remember telling you how I feel.” You began, “and I...”

The sinker comes. And Chrome's heartbeat isn't sure now. But you - you approached him, eyes down, figure covered, but reaching out to him. With shallow breaths, you raised your hand to his chest, before looking up. And there - your eyes meet his. Same innocent, shimmering eyes looking at him with vigor, with enchantment; he forgets how to breathe.

“I like you, Chrome.”

You've said it once more. Sober, genuine, and true. And it breaks Chrome's heart into pieces, folded and mashed into dough, before it forms in the shape of a heart. You've set the oven now; his feelings are ready to be baked, ready to be eaten - and he wants you. No, he needs you to be the one to take it.

“I still like you, even when I'm drunk or sober. I want to be with you all the time. I want you, Chrome. I want you to be part of the future that I am building.”

Wordlessly, he captures your hips and pulls you close, him leaning down just so the proximity knows no bounds. He feels your breath ghost his lips, your heartbeat in his ribcage - it beats, and beats, and beats so loudly he forgets you're in the kitchen at daylight; in a house he's grown up with no love, but he's here now. Creating a love that no Smith can forge.

“A concrete object made of materials and information, whose borders are continuously constructed and reconstructed,” said the definition for 'Smith'. He could live in that definition forever, but what about Chrome?

“I am forging a new one.” He whispers, “I am...bridging the new future with you.”

Your eyes are shining, and there he knew-

“I like you, too, [Y/N].”

If only bodies were capable of seeing what's happening underneath, a cadenza ringing in Chrome's heart, beating furiously for you, only you. You smiled, a mischievous gaze written across your face.

“Does the offer about me doing anything I want when I'm sober still stand?”

He smiles back. “Of course.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Tiptoeing to reach Chrome's height, you craned your neck and tugged his shoulder. But Chrome is kind; he hoists you up by the hips, capturing your lips in an instant.

Sweet is a word to describe the first kiss Chrome shared with someone in his life. Forget the war, forget that you're on the kitchen island; it's only two lovers baring their adoration for one another, sharing a kiss blessed in daylight. It's warm, it's soft, it's needy - the way you both melt into each other, how you wrapped your arms around his neck, or how his hands are holding you up. Enchanted, Chrome's M.I.N.D. echoes, it's really enchanting.

Satiated, you both pull away, breathless, as your foreheads touch. He doesn't let you go, though. You (unfortunately) do, when the other kitchen door opens, a parade of little robots bursting through the door.

You cheer as the little robots go through the surprise: a small banner written "Happy Birthday!" hastily, and the cake you baked earlier with the robots. Chrome looks at you confused, before noticing what the parade had brought.

“How-”

“Happy birthday, Chrome,” You beamed, hands cupping his cheeks, “you deserve the celebration.”

“Thank you.” He whispers on your chin, leaving little kisses there, “I really appreciate this...I appreciate you.”

“You should enjoy today.” You winked, “my birthday present to you is for later.”

“Later?”

You squeezed his arm. He blushes. “Yes, later.”

Chrome is thankful his heart doesn't need to somersault out of his chest now. At least, until later.

HAPPY LATE ACTIVATION DAY CHROME!!!!!! please like, reblog, share, comment down on this post! don't copy and plagiarize my work!!

[keter-kan]

Okay!! I've been working on something for a really long time with some oc's that are near and dear to my heart ♡ I've gotten quite a bit already written, a bit less edited. I'm thinking of doing some more in-depth posts about the characters and their lore, if anyone would be interested! Possible first chapter post tomorrow?

Also, you're not allowed to make fun of me for the shit formatting of this post. I'll figure it out eventually, I swear.

tw: heavy mentions of sa, p*dophelia, abuse, death, murder

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Broken Legends

Prologue

Leandra’s father abused her as a child, but everyone could see that clear as day. The people knew of the king’s predilection for little girls, but none seemed to care enough to do much about it. Either that, or their fear was too great to intervene. Blood right, birth right, sovereign right, whatever they wanted to use as an excuse for the deranged, disgusting behavior of the man whose father’s father staked his claim on the coastal kingdom of Aphoreum.

He never touched his son; little boys weren’t his taste. He rarely touched his wife—may her soul flow freely—but she certainly seemed to keep him in line. Until her death, there was a restraint to him that withered away as she did; rotting and leaving a smell no one could erase from his soul.

Queen Imogen died under seemingly un-mysterious circumstances. She didn’t fall suddenly ill after a lifetime of health, she didn’t claim abuse, and she certainly didn’t suspect that someone quite close to her could be the cause of her failing body. Everyone mourned for the appropriate period of time.

Everyone except the children, of course. They still find themselves mourning the idea of a mother they could barely remember. To Leandra, her mother was strong and wise, the way a woman should be. To her older brother, Callum, there was the abandonment of the only woman who would unconditionally love him. She chose to remember a legacy, while he was bound to the anger he felt towards the undeserving dead.

The first child, the original heir, was sickly; an affliction seen often in the more recent royal blood. Really, though, the only difference from the royal blood and that of all peasants was its incestuous nature. That was something the Terrance Reign brought back to the royal line after nearly a century of free marriages.

Heir to Aphoreum, Prince Terance VIII, died peacefully in his sleep on the night of his tenth birthday. Those who said his mother killed him to give him a better life soon found their heads in burlap sacks, so not many say that anymore. It was soon after Terance was dead that their mother went to join him.

Callum was named the successor to the throne just a day after his mother’s funeral. After the grand ceremony, as the succession of High Councilors and Noblemen kissed the stones at Callum’s feet, Leandra’s father took her away where no one would see for the first time.

From that moment forward, Leandra had a new understanding of her place in the palace. While her brother grew up to become the king he wasn’t meant to be, her father taught her what being a woman of royal blood really meant: when her brother left on his journey to become a man, she would go with him and ensure pure heirs.

Aphoreum’s soul was born of the blood shed by those who fought and killed the demons plaguing the land. Countless villages were saved, small kingdoms sprouting throughout. As men pushed forward, demons fled back to the oceans, leaving Aphoreum to be conquered by whoever was left. At least, this is what was taught to the people.

There are thousands of dusty and cracked scrolls of parchment scattered throughout all cities and towns in Aphoreum containing the history of the land; how the Gods rewarded us with lush fields and bountiful rivers for banishing all of their enemies to the sea. That is, to this day, where they are said to dwell.

Things started crumbling at the end of Aphoreum’s War, started by none other than Terrance the First. It took five generations, yet they reigned victorious. For the first time since anyone could remember, the entirety of Aphoreum was ruled under one king. None of the other prior kingdoms were proud of that. With their previous rulers executed during the Reckoning—the day Aphoreum’s War was officially won—they fell into disarray. Villages plundered, women sold to richer men, entire ways of life decimated under the fist of a barbarian king. For King Terrance VII, the duty to uphold total power over all of Aphoreum was a goal only completed by the iron fist of his forebearers. He held to the pride of men who fought for honor while he sat upon his plush throne.

Leandra was literate thanks to an old wetnurse that her father had killed when she was eleven. Once she was no longer needed to feed Leandra’s bastard half siblings, she was sent with the Wind. After that, the only person ever present in Leandra’s life was High Councilor Jonas, a man who never touched her unless to pat the top of her head. He taught her of Natural Chaos and what tarnishes the soul, but he also taught her that there are good odds and ends in the world, too. She just had to look very hard to see them.

Jonas was the sole educator of both Leandra and Callum, but also their father before them. He was a truce sent from the church to Terrance VI, begging him to forgive them for not modifying their scripture the first time he asked. After Grandpa Terrance killed the High Priest residing in the palace chapel, they changed their tune. Jonas, however, understood the weight of the duty he’d been assigned. To teach the young is to mold the innocent in whatever way you see fit. But not every child is as easily molded. Terrance was a child full of hate, instilled in him by his own violent father. Callum seemed to be taking after his father in more ways than one, although Jonas continued every day to try to stray him from that path. Leandra, however, was different.

Before being sent to the palace, Jonas’s congregation of High Councilors—beknown to him or not—swore upon themselves that they would right the wrongs of the Natural Chaos afflicting the royal blood, whether that be by violence or sacrifice or any other means necessary. This was a promise the church sat upon for far too many generations to count if it hadn’t been for the numerals after each king’s name. But they had to bide their time. They had to bend their rules, change their faith, modify their scripture, all to appease the man they planned to overthrow. Another mighty aspect of the Terrance Reign was the slow and steady separation of the church from the crown, an unspoken duty bestowed to each heir as the generations passed.

It was through Jonas that Leandra learned of the world, the scrolls of scripture being her main escape, but not the modified texts of the Terrance Reign. Jonas was molding Leandra to be the savior Aphoreum needed, and this was the beginning.

Leandra would read the stories of the Gods who seemingly abandoned her. She found solace there, between the pages of their legends. The comfort of long forgotten rules set by wrongly worshipped Gods was the only kind of comfort she could afford.

Terrance was of a breed of man who more closely resembled their primal counterparts: feasting, fucking, and fighting. Not much else crossed his mind.

There are those who know better, despite class or background or who sits upon Aphoreum’s throne. But the rage projected by King Terrance found a home in the hearts of his men, creating a society of violence. There were few pockets throughout the kingdom where none could be found, most of which were under attack by those taking after their king.

On the day Callum turned twenty he found himself embarking on just such a conquest, yet one of a much different scale. A Wandering is any man’s rite of passage, giving him a year to stake his claim away from his family someplace else amongst the Waters and Winds. If they never returned after a year’s time, they weren’t ever meant to be a man. With Callum, however, his Wandering was an expedition into the known world with an army at his back and a ship full of wine. As were the odds of all those who could afford it, he would likely return more of a man than those without the gold in their pockets.

It was a simple plan with a grandiose design, allowing a full year of celebration for the future king of Aphoreum. Ships made of the finest timber harvested from the southern coasts, casks of wines and spirits shipped from around Aphoreum, clothes and finery made by request for his highness. With him would go his soon-to-be wife, Leandra.

The relationship Leandra shared with her brother wasn’t one of solidarity. He was to be his father’s spawn as Leandra was to be an instrument in his success. The moments of torture and humiliation caused by her father were in preparation to be used by the future king. Knowing this, she harbored many emotions for him, none of which she understood. She knew he was tainted the same way their father was before him, and their children would be after them, and she prayed that something—anything—could steer her fate in any other direction, for she knew his never would be.

When Jonas approached her after class, crumpled parchment in a High Councilor’s shaking hands, she took it without question. She looked in his eyes and saw the pain he felt, the longing for the Gods to make the world what it once again should be.

When she unfurled the note, she needed no further explanation than what was found there. Stained with the sweat of her mentor’s hands, four simple words bleeding into the page; Jump. You’ll know when.

The final weeks leading to her brother’s Wandering were full of tension. Leandra unfurled the parchment in her hands night after night, feeling the scratches of ink fade away as she rubbed it between her fingers.

Jump.

She could barely contain her excitement. She was going to weasel her way out of the chain of command. The only man who ever truly understood her the way the Gods intended had devised a plan for her to escape.

You’ll know when.

Stiff in her seat at the Grand Table, Leandra watched her plate as the men feasted around her. Tomorrow morning the Wandering would begin, and as the fleet of Aphoreum’s ships left the harbor, she would have to be ready to flee at any moment. She knew what Jonas meant about knowing when: she needed to wait for a message from the Gods. She would pray and worship and fast and deny herself the pleasures of life to prepare herself for the message she knew the Gods would give her. She would be ready.

When the sun rose over the harbor the following morning, Leandra was at peace for the first time since she was last held by her mother. She felt as though there was finally a real purpose to her plight in life and that she would be able to break the mold that her many greats-grandfather had created here. She felt as though she—alone—could crumble the system built by generations of the world’s most appalling men.

They set sail on a glorious day. Callum made a speech just after King Terrance, pushing the entire kingdom into a week-long celebration. Bottles broken, oars heaved, sails unfurled, and they were out of the mouth of harbor in just a few hours’ time.

For the first week of their voyage, Leandra didn’t speak with Callum. Not that he had much to say to her, anyway, besides the remarks of needing to secure an heir before the year’s end. Every night he’d mention it, and every night she’d comply, silently awaiting the sign promised her.

After that first week, Leandra grew a bit restless. And the week that followed that one made her even worse. The further they traveled from Aphoreum, the more the bruises left by her father healed, the more Leandra thought that there wouldn’t be a message, or maybe she had missed it… She started toying with the idea of living a life with her brother and what that could entail for her. She couldn’t stomach the thought of living in a world that her Gods had forsaken, but if she could make her brother see things the way Jonas had intended, maybe there could be a change.

When she finally spoke to her brother, she asked him if he’d care to know her, because, really, they just knew so little of each other.

He said he very much would. He was strong, but he was nervous. He couldn’t ever rule the way his father intended, but he wanted to try.

She said she could help him, if he’d let her.

They were children. What little they could have learned through life was filtered through their father’s vision. But he wasn’t here with them now.

The storm hit just three days from where they would dock. As the rain pelted the decks of the ships and the waves swelled, Callum’s men remained calm. They knew how to work a ship in a storm. For a while, everything remained intact. The fleet, the men, even Leandra.

But the storm became something else. After countless hours of toiling under the whip of rain and wind, the air started to become heavy with the stench of something bigger. As the waves turned from rolling hills to staggering cliffs and the raindrops into daggers, the men started to lose themselves.

The young ones jumped first. Callum was called from his cabin, forced to peel Leandra from his side. As she huddled amongst the furs adorning the mattress, Callum entered into a scene from the pits of the Gods’ hatred.

He was met with a force of nature never defeated by any king. As the ship was flung from one wave to the next, Callum’s men were dropping to their knees and scraping themselves towards the rails, throwing themselves into the raging sea. As he inched over the deck, grabbing the rigging and buckets dropped by his men, he saw a look on their faces that reminded him of his mother’s corpse in her ornate casket; there was no soul within them. Not anymore.

Screams were swallowed by the waves and the winds, words lost and breath wasted. As Callum pleaded with his mean until his throat was bloody and cracked, it overtook him.

She was calling to him. No, no…

Singing.

It was subtle at first, a slow drone playing at the base of his skull, humming away as he grabbed at his men bent on suicide. The more he pleaded, the harder his skull thrummed, filling his head with a desire unknown to man. As the irritation started to spread and his screaming and howling continued to fail, the soft beads of sound started to poke pin-pricks in the humming, driving Callum to gasp and shake with momentary relief before again being swallowed by the desperation. As another wave threw the ship far off course and doused the men in water colder than ice, he broke.

“Mother?”

She was there. Her golden hair cascading down her shoulders, her naked form hovering above the railing of the ship, situated the way a God would be. When Callum locked eyes with her, he felt that she was truly there, waiting for him to reach her.

She called to him, sang to him, cooed over the man he had become. Tears mixed with the rain and sea as they poured down Callum’s cheeks. He slowly made his way towards her.

Leandra emerged from the cabin as the thrumming started to overtake her. Her shift whipping in the wind and her hair matted to her head from the rain, she saw the horrors on deck.

The Gods had sent their message.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, too, but they didn’t get the chance to meet the wood of the ship. Leandra trusted her Gods. She trusted Jonas.

She jumped.

There was no sound as she hit the water. There was no cold embrace of the ocean, no being swallowed by the waves. She let herself be taken fully, succumbing to her fate.

Although she wasn’t expecting pleasure, nor was she expecting the pain.

Hands grabbed at the shift plastered to her skin, ripping it from her body in mere seconds. As the thrumming ceased in the back of her skull, she was taken in a way no one had taken her before. Not the man slaves who lurked after her in the palace, not her brother who she grew to love, not even her father, who defiled her in a way no other living thing could.

While her soul was ripped apart, shredded down to the sand that littered the ocean floor, she knew her Gods had forsaken her.

-

Leandra had no recollection of returning home. One moment she was suffering the pain of all the Natural Chaos, and the next she was dragging herself across the wharf, blood trailing in her wake. The moon was full.

Jonas found her and took her back to her father at the palace.

Her skin was burnt, her hair missing in chunks. Her bones poked through her skin like they wanted to free themselves from its cage. Her eyes drooped in their sunken sockets, unable to comprehend the world around her. She cried her story to Jonas, who begged her father to let a healer see her, even just one from the church. He refused.

For Leandra was with child, and heavily so. Her body, slowly failing her, was feeding something inside of her that wasn’t human.

She was pregnant when Jonas lifted her from the harbor, but the progression of her state was faster than it should’ve been; her stomach bruising and aching and protruding more every day. Her bones became brittle, her legs sitting at crooked angles and her neck unable to support the weight of her head. Upon the next full moon, when the tides were high, Leandra called for Jonas with what little strength she had left.

He leaned down to her ear, her breath almost too light to decipher the words.

“Please,” she whimpered, “don’t let him kill my daughter.”

That night, as her screams of labor began, Jonas pleaded once again with the king. Terrance, with a glare in his eye, allowed for a wetnurse from the palace chapel. He wouldn’t permit anyone besides himself and Jonas in the chambers, let alone a practiced healer. The nurse was the most she would get.

When she arrived, the horror that overcame her hit a part of her soul that hadn’t ever been touched before. The king demanded death to the child upon delivery, bolting the door behind them as he left.

When Jonas asked her to defy him, her soul said yes, as the woman had done for him many times before.

She died without seeing the full moon that night. As her child took their first breath, Leandra took her last.

Her child was a beautiful monster. A writhing mass of body, shifting in form while the wetnurse clung to his mottled skin. Within a moment, the child opened his eyes, and ceased being a monster. He was a baby, covered in his mother’s blood, eyes peering into those of the woman who held him.

When the king asked for proof of the death of the monster upon the following morn, Jonas provided a mangled piglet’s corpse. The wetnurse, covered in cattle entrails, told Terrance it took more work than she’d have thought to kill such a small beast. He was satisfied.

Leandra’s body was burned in the kitchen fires by Jonas’s hand, as Terrance commanded. There would be no funeral. There would be no knowledge of the children who failed at their Wandering. That would be the end of their stories. Terrance would find a concubine to produce a legitimate heir amongst the few cousins he had left. Aphoreum would live on.

But so did Leandra’s child, deep in a forest untouched by man, left in the hands of powerful women that the Gods would grow to fear.

[bbyquokka]

Lix looked really handsome in his YouTube live. I can imagine he’s on video call with his gf and she can’t help but compliment him like every second and he’s left all flustered 🥰

you're so beautiful, it hurts

FLUFF BELOW CUT – MINORS, AGELESS & DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

warning: gender neutral reader, idol au, pet names, semi proof read, a lot of fluff ;-; words: 0.6k ~ (636)

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“and then jisung thought it would be funny to tease changbin by stealing his food and we all know how that went.” felix laughs as he thinks back to the events that happened several hours ago.

you smile and nod as you listen to him. felix laughing and smiling so brightly it blinds you from your phone screen. he did a YouTube live a few minutes ago and saw your comment of “i miss you :(” resulting in him instantly calling you as soon as the live ended.

being away from one another is painful but it's part of the job. you knew what you were getting yourself into when you and felix became a couple. some days it's easy, some days it's hard but it's all part of the process. the reward of seeing your lover after months apart is a reward you love.

when you and felix are together, the memories you both create are worth the time apart. you both stick together like glue when felix's schedule is calm.

“changbin was not happy about that and jisung being, well, jisung was just laughing and being a menace.” felix pauses to laugh before continuing, “and then chan came in and everyone just went silent!!”

“sounds like fun baby. it's never a dull day with the members.” you giggle. he hums, nodding as he runs his fingers through his bright blue hair. his skin naked and showing off his freckled face. a white t-shirt and black jeans accommodate him. you can't help but swoon at the sight of him.

as felix continues to talk about the chaotic mess, you go off in a daydream. your eyes flicker and take in every detail of felix's face, loving the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he smiles, how his voice deepens when talking naturally but rises up in pitch when talking about something that excites him or was exciting to him.

“you're so beautiful, lix.” you say without realising, the words slipping from your lips like butter. he halts mid-sentence, clearing his throat as his cheeks and neck slowly heat up.

“no. no i'm not ” he whispers, looking at his lap. you furrow your brows as you tilt your head to the side.

“yes, you are and nothing you say can make me change my opinion. you're beautiful lix and i'm not just talking about the way you look.”

“what so you mean, yn?”

“your looks are just a bonus. you are a beautiful soul. the prettiest, most gorgeous man i've ever seen. you think about others before yourself, making sure the people you love are well cared for and needs have been met. which can have it's downfall because i sometimes wish you would put yourself first before others but i don't think that's possible with someone like you, lixie. you're my bright sunshine. you light up my life and you're just so gorgeous and beautiful and pretty an–”

“ok ok ok! stop yn! you're making me feel so incredibly shy!” felix whimpers, his cheeks now the same colour as a red apple. you giggle as he shuffles on his seat shyly, fingers twiddling and picking the material of his jeans.

“its true though! you're beautiful lix and you're very very handsome too.”

“ok ok, yn! seriously. just stoppp.” felix whines, his bottom lip pouting. you laugh and hold your hands up in defeat.

“ok sorry.” you grin, winking at him. “i just can't help myself when i'm in your presence!”

“you're a menace to my heart yn. i hope you know that.” you pretend to think for a minute, finger on chin before shrugging and giggling.

“oh i know but you love me.”

“you're damn right i do. i love you more than anyone and anything in this world, my beautiful menace.”

note: sorry it took so long to complete this :( but i hope you enjoy this!! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @unh0ly-dr3am3r ; @septicrebel ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @telesvng ; @oshimee

[rainbow-scarab]

Markoth and Forbidden Knowledge

I have a whole lot of thoughts about Markoth. I think he was on the run from the authorities because he was trying to figure out the Pale King's origins, and the Pale King would not allow that.

First, as far as being on the run. When you first speak to him, he says:

You have come a long way, just to die here at the edge of the world. No, do not speak. I have heard thousands and thousands of empty words from those like you. Your pride, your desires, your desperation... you will take these things with you once I strike you down. Raise your weapon then, and die like those who came before you.

He's clearly seen combat, and expects it. I wondered at first if he was bloodthirsty, ready to kill, on the run as a criminal, and that made more people come after him to kill him. But there are some more clues. He says, after you defeat him:

Warriors, knights, kings, even time itself... they have no power over me. Only you.

It sounds like not just random warriors but the Pale King himself and his knights, and maybe those of other rulers. Was it because he was that bad of a criminal? I think it was for another reason.

I can... see myself there, still sleeping. How long have I been hidden here? Here at the edge of the world, no-one could find me... except you.

He was hidden. He's in a desolate region of the kingdom, behind this shade gate that no one can get by. If he was so bloodthirsty, why hide like this? Cornifer says, of Kingdom's Edge:

Judging by this wall, the city's folk seemed hesitant to build further into these caverns. I wonder what kept them at bay?

Thistlewind says:

You find it strange to see a moth wielding a weapon? We are a passive species, though I am not the only one amongst us to take up arms. Another braved the edges of this world, hoping to uncover a truth long forgotten. I wonder what became of him?

I wonder if it may have been taboo for any bug to travel into Kingdom's Edge. I have a lot of thoughts on the Pale King which I've said in another post, but to summarize: The Pale King set himself up as the creator of Hallownest and told bugs there was nothing else. He tried to set himself up as the only god in Hallownest and make the moths forget the Radiance (this part is from developer notes and it might not be fully true in game, since we have Unn still around...but it's at least true for the Radiance the moths left her and forgot her). He also took on the legacy of the Ancient Civilization as his own, as if it was always about him, though that's straying farther from my point.

The point is, the Pale King having origins outside of Hallownest is a contradiction to the story he tells. And I think he wanted to keep his wyrm body a secret so no one would ever find out. Thistlewind tells us that Markoth wanted to find some buried secret. Perhaps knowing that things weren't quite right. Seer knows about the Radiance in the game. Maybe Markoth did too, or knew some fragmentary information about the past, knew the Pale King's story wasn't quite right. A journey to uncover the truth that led him to Kingdom's Edge....

And that's just the sort of thing that could get him on the wanted list. He was clearly a capable warrior. If it was announced that he was wanted, maybe with a reward, both authorities (king/knights) and common warriors could be after him, and Markoth expects it. We find him hidden though, by his own words. Either as a (supposed to be) temporary measure to escape authorities, or...perhaps another reason.

I can... see myself there, still sleeping. How long have I been hidden here? Here at the edge of the world, no-one could find me... except you.

I find this bit of dialog interesting. Every other dream warrior seems unaware that they're dead, though a few realize after the fight. Markoth, though...he sees his body. With the way he was speaking, he expected that he was sleeping. Not "sleeping" as in a denial of death (unclear if he knows if he's dead exactly), but as if "sleeping" was the last state he knew himself to be in, when he was still alive.

The Hall of Gods calls him "Dreamborn god of meditation and isolation". I think that kind of sleep he was in was deliberate--not just for rest. I think he has some of the same powers as Seer. I think with meditation he can travel in dream like her, astral projecting or whatever you might call that. It would work out well for him in his situation. If he could find a great hiding spot, he could stay there in body as he explored the area in dream. He either somehow made it past the shade gate, or maybe the shade gate appeared afterwards. And to be a bit more speculative: The stasis might've kicked in while he was there. The stasis seems to freeze time in some ways, lengthening lives. Markoth did die, but... I wonder if he just stayed as he was. Sleeping, until there was little difference between life and death, his consciousness still traveling through dream as if nothing as changed.

Warriors, knights, kings, even TIME ITSELF... they have no power over me. Only you. You are the darkness... come to consume me.

It's such a weird thing for him to say, about time. I suspect due to this that he does in fact know that he's dead, or at least that he was sleeping for an unnatural amount of time. Time and death could not stop him if he was traveling in dream. (Though void...void indeed can stop him).

One last thing.

Markoth fights with two dreamshields (excuse the screenshot with just one--but of course the second phase of his fight has two). His body has only one next to it, and another dreamshield can be picked up by Ghost not too far from Seer. The dreamnail dialog on the stone where you pick up the charm:

Protect yourself... You are our last...

I think Markoth must've left it for Seer.

I'd like to think there were parallels between the two. Maybe Seer didn't become a warrior, but I'd like to think they had some similar dream abilities, and both tried to understand truths the Pale King would prefer to keep hidden. I don't know what kind of relationship the two had, beyond Markoth caring for Seer's safety, but I like to imagine him contacting her to keep her updated on what he learned. Traveling to her in dream, even with his body still hidden away. Whether he ever learned of the Pale King's origins I don't know.

But another light appeared in our world… A wyrm that took the form of a king. How fickle my ancestors must have been. They forsook the light that spawned them. Turned their backs to it… Forgot it even. And so this kingdom was born from that betrayal.

Seer knows. Seer learned the truth not just about the Radiance, but knows the Pale King did not create the land Hallownest, knows he was not always there in the kingdom. I'd like to think Markoth was part of uncovering it.

[theworldvsyoshiko]

Anyway, thoughts on Anomaly, while it's still fresh in my head:

The main criticisms I've seen of the expansion are...

the reward for dealing with most of the entities is really low vs. the risk/effort. Like the cube, which gives you A Bit Of Gold at the end of like half a year of research, or the fleshmass heart, which is a days-long siege that gives you... basically nothing for defeating it, unless you count having another thing to research.

the Anomaly tech tree, and the entity stuff, is kinda a whole separate thing from the main game, and if you aren't trying to awaken the monolith, you don't have much to gain by getting into it.

For #1... yeah, kinda. On the other hand, I believe that for the most part they're scheduled like any other event. Which is to say you aren't just getting the Golden Cube event, you're getting a Golden Cube instead of a raid or something.

The entity stuff feels to me like a very deliberate attempt to add more varied threats to the game, beyond 'big pack of dangerous stuff that runs at your base.' You've got:

Metalhorrors making you hunt down the people who are infected (how well this works, I'll get into later)

The cube as a weird productivity threat

The labyrinth obelisk teleporting half your base away

Shamblers being a big pack of dangerous stuff that breach your walls along a dozen points instead of charging in through the first opening.

The fleshmass heart as more of a... pruning issue.

The weird game of hide-and-seek with the revenant.

Nociosphere my beloved

etc

Except for the Nociosphere and labyrinth stuff, most of these have very little in the way of rewards. Compared to an endgame raid, though, they mostly feel like less of an existential threat. And lbr, the looted weapons and stuff from a raid go from being a bonus to an active hazard if you're trying to manage your wealth level. There are a lot of situations where I'd rather see one of these pop up than a siege or mech cluster, I'll say that much.

For #2, again, yeah, kinda. Most of the new stuff requires bioferrite to take advantage of--psychic rituals burn through heaps of it, serums need it + meat from some of the entities, refueling the flame weapons uses it... If you want to go all-in on rituals or something, you need a decent amount of entities locked up. More powerful stuff like ghouls require shards, which are even rarer if you aren't awakening the monolith.

Most of it's pretty handy regardless though. I think it's generally well-known by now that ghouls are kinda amazing. The serums... I really should have used the serums, but by the time I got into the end game, it was too late to gear up for it. The flame weapons are nice, particularly the Hellcat rifle--the stat differences from an assault rifle are pretty small, and having fire on demand is useful.

I'm interested to try the new Ambient Horror setting where Anomaly stuff pops up without being a main focus, because I won't know for sure how I feel about it until I see how that works out.

Really, my big complaint would be that a lot of the entity stuff is janky. See:

that time the Unnatural Corpse vanished for like five days for no apparent reason, and only reappeared when it was ready to attack immediately. I downplayed it a bit at the time, but it took me like half a dozen save/reload cycles to find a way around that. The thing's designed to be practically unkillable if you let it get to that point, so it'd be nice if they made sure you had enough opportunity to prevent that. (seriously, the wiki's tips for fighting it are like 'well if you launch yourself to the arctic, naked, and then put on some clothes and do combat meth after the clone appears and outrun it while it freezes to death…')

Metalhorrors just kinda suck. They clearly expect you to play solitaire Among Us to deal with an infection, but there are enough transmission vectors, and the investigation takes long enough, that every single time the answer ended up being 'actually half the colony is infected, and the monsters got tired of waiting and popped out on their own.' Once you do have to fight them, they're tough as hell if you aren't in position to set them on fire, and even fire only helps so much against a swarm of fast melee enemies.

how damn tanky the Revenant is. This wasn't an issue the second time around, but that first one spent like two minutes wandering around the base with people shooting it before it dropped. If you got one early on/with a low-tech faction, that thing would be an existential threat, even once you could semi-reliably track it down.

I never talked about these at the time, but: one type of monster is called a Devourer, and they have the ability to leap about halfway across a screen and insta-swallow people, no save. The only way to get them out is to kill the Devourer before it digests them. Which is fairly doable, but these things also travel in packs, and they're tanky enough that it's hard to kill them all before they're in range. At one point about 3/4 of the colony got swallowed all at once. (Obviously I had to reload that time.)

They're manageable, but I'd definitely want a big balance pass before I ever tried to play this in hardcore mode or on a higher difficulty.

The ending... feels like a more frantic version of the spaceship raids. Instead of 1-2 raids a day for 15 days, you get a series of raids that feel like they're 2-3x size, crammed into what is probably 3-4 days unless you're a lot more confident than I was in your ability to wait it out.

It's probably the one that's been the most difficult for me, but that's partially because I got unlucky. That first wave of structures + attacks destroyed two of the main power generators and busted giant holes in the wall at the start. ... it's also partially because I was going 'well most of the entities that can spawn as generic enemies aren't that bad,' hugely underestimating the mob sizes I'd be dealing with. If I'd made preparations like making sure all the mechs were powered up beforehand, it would have made things a lot easier. I also absolutely should have scattered more lights around the far reaches of the map, but I'd assumed that the monsters would smash them if they had access.

Also for an expansion that tries to vary the threats beyond 'big pack of stuff that runs at your base,' the ending sure had a lot of big packs of stuff running at the base. The light thing was a fun complication, though.

[skykashi]

Question about KakaKahyo after seeing your post. What stops them from having a happily ever after? Not sure if people see Boruto as filler/anime-canon, but in Boruto, Kahyo’s not at Hozuki Castle anymore; Mui’s brother is the warden now. Also, in the Ultimate Ninja Storm 4 game, Shikamaru DLC, he does send her lavender, which he says always reminds him of her and when they first met, so something may have been there in terms of feelings. Ino and Shikamaru try to pry to see if he’s in love, when he gets a response, but he shuts them down real quick (“yeah like I would just show you the letter”) and they just agree to let his private feelings stay private and to respect his privacy.

Thank you for the ask

the answer is under the cut XD

I don't consider Boruto fillers canon, I don't even know where did Boruto fans come up with this anime-canon concept from as there were no statements from Kishimoto or even Ikomoto or anyone at all to make Boruto fillers more special than any other anime fillers, so many things that doesn't make sense and are even too silly to be taken seriously are in those fillers so I've never taken them seriously at all, they are what they are, just fillers and as far as I know in canon she's supposed to be there for life so unless she died or Naruto and the other Kages pardoned her, she isn't allowed to leave the prison so until we get any confirmation from any canon source about this she's still the warden... Also, even though Kakashi maintained a friendship with her and they sent each other letters and stuff, as far as canon goes he still never pursued a romantic relationship with her or anyone at that, neither her nor him ever told the other about their feelings, they both kept it to themselves and just treated each other as friends, we're not even sure if they still have the same feelings, 13 years are such a long time and they never took that crush to the next level so maybe they got over it with the years, maybe they were even dating in secret that entire time and never told anyone about it, lol who knows! 🤷🏻‍♀️. Maybe all those Kakashi fans who betrayed him and voted for other characters because they think they already know everything about Kakashi and those poor other characters need the manga reward more, can come and answer those questions for us now since tHeY kNoW eVeRy tHiNg AbOuT KakAsHi aLrEaDy so they don't need Kishimoto to tell them more about him, along with the story of his mom and how she died or all the 13 years of his tenure as Hokage that we've seen non of it!! 🙄 sorry, I'm still bitter about this 😞

[wolfsbanesparks]

I remember there being a post somewhere about Freddy and his relationship with the ocean, how it took all of his relatives from him one by one and almost took him, too. Just a thought, but do you think that there's a chance Poseidon or some other ocean God had a hand in this, knowing who Freddy would become in the future. I'm just saying, with Zeus as one of the people who grants your powers, a lot of gods are going to be upset with that person, simply because of Zeus's long list of enemies.

Just thought it'd be interesting to see how the other gods would interact with the shazamily and what they think about them, mortals having powers beyond their imagination and somehow being more worthy than them.

Would also love to write a fic one day where Freddy joins Aquaman on a mission and has problems with the ocean, inevitably learning some unexpected lore and frightening truths

Also, another thought I had was what if all of the shazamily kids were orphans because the gods wanted them punished for the future powers they were going to have bestowed upon them. What seemed like a coincidence could actually have been something more dark

I remember that post! It's so interesting and I think Freddy’s relationship with the sea and the trauma it caused him should be explored more (especially if we're including his brother Kit).

Canonically the gods are pretty hands off in modern day. But a reinterpretation of canon in which they are unseen puppeteers in daily life and reward or punish people based off of age old grudges? I can totally get behind that. It doesn't contradict canon but simply recontextualizes it in a way that centers the gods. Poseidon killing the freemans because of what Freddy will someday mean to Zeus as one of his champions is such a cool take (add in Kit and his connection to the realm of the dead and he has reason to hate both of the brothers).

The whole family being orphaned because of the gods/fate/some divine force is such an interesting concept. I've seen people explore the idea that Billy’s hardships in life were predetermined as a test to see if his heart was pure, but I don't think I've ever seen it with the whole family. It's awful to think about the gods hurting them all because of their destiny, but it's also so interesting because it implies that the whole family was destined to be heroes not just Billy. Lots to think about and unpack there.

As always I love the ideas you bring to me!

[oliversrarebooks]

Gotta say: Your chemical imbalance piece was pretty darn great. This bit made my silly brain do a little warm fuzzy feeling kickflip:

5X2 rewarded their host's compliance with a pleasant vision of the ship's recreation district, filled with laughter and games and live music, one that their host used to be fond of before it became impossibly defiant. Their host latched onto the familiar, mollifying hallucination right away, like a young one with its comfort-toy.

Fun... pretty...

Yes, it is fun and pretty, said 5X2. You deserve it, because you're being very good right now. Aren't you glad I took you to the doctor?

It's got the whumpy intrigue but it's also comforting/soothing, you know? 👌 The shift to a more regressed, innocent, or childlike state is not something I've seen much in whump but always wanted to, specifically in the context of it being for soothing/comforting a character. Like your hypnosis writing in the bookseller series. Thank you for writing that in to your chemical imbalance piece. And the general comfy hypnosis or altered state vibes in bookseller.

I feel less like I'd be perceived as a weirdo for liking these fictional concepts since I see that others enjoy them as well through your writing. (Hence why I send an anonymous ask) And feel like maybe I can also possibly write or share things in this little community too.

Anywho: Your page is an absolute blessing upon my feed. Thank you for sharing your works!

Ahhh thank you so much, this is the best kind of comment to get. I really enjoyed writing chemical imbalance and I think it's going to be a personal favorite for a long time.

Writing this blog I've learned that there are actually quite a few people interested in a kind of cozy whump vibe. Of course I'm not the only one writing stories like this, not at all, and I take a lot of inspiration from ASMR videos with whumpy concepts, too. If you're a weirdo for liking it, then a lot of us are weirdos together, and I think that's the best place to be.

Please do write and share your work! There's nothing better than paying it forward and inspiring someone else to write!

Thank you again!

[longeyelashedtragedy]

2023 post

i'm struggling through this with a kind of broken keyboard (sticky M U J keys) so bear with me!

because the last month of this year has been such a fucking nightmare (that i'll be working to remove myself from come tuesday) i realized that the good things that happened this year kind of escaped me.

cause--this year was good, in ways that as always with my life cannot be seen by the outside world. it was a messy year but some things changed that i still haven't fully made sense of.

-this year i met so many cool people on here, or got closer to some other people who i'd known before. if "meeting cool people on tumblr" was a skill you could put on your resume, i would definitely feel qualified to put it on my resume, but this year i feel like i just got acquainted with a really high quality group of people (all who support different teams, too!) and that's been so much fun and rewarding as well. i always feel a bit guarded telling people that i care about them but...i do. a lot!

-this june i went on a #YOLO trip to the netherlands that i could not afford but even now when i see my charming credit card debt i have to say i have No Regerts. i got to meet two of these tumblr friends who i've been close to for long enough that they've transcended "internet friend" for me and feel like Friends I've Known a Long Time. we had such a comfortable and fun time travelling together, to a place i've wanted to visit since i was young, and the benefit of meeting Tumblr Friends in real life is that you can make sure everyone's brain needs are taken care of! together we went to see italy beat NL (feat. virg van d slur in the flesh) in the stadium and then watched croatia lose to spain in the basement of a sports bar in utrecht and they got to see that it's 100% true that i cry during the croatian national anthem before the game 😂 i got to do so many bucket list things--visit the rijksmuseum, go solo to delft and see all the vermeer places and settings of my favorite book, girl with a pearl earring (and accidentally wander into a government building looking for a church, whoops), and see the girl with a pearl earring herself for the second time, but this time at her home in the mauritshuis. also i took a lot of fun trains and like every time i go from american Big Corn Syrup and Weird Additives food to europe, everything i ate was good as fuck. and i slept in a pod for two nights! i have the opposite of claustrophobia (claustro...philia? lol) so that slapped. so great, and getting to meet up with friends who live on the other side of an ocean is so fucking special.

-LAMPARDVERSE! nuff said, but it's been an absolute blast getting to co-create it and research all the lore. this is just the beginning, long may it live!!! also thanks to you all for putting up with me blasting a white english chelsea man on your dashes. it will happen again.

-irl stuff...the most unexpected. this year i was able to comfortably become friendly with people who are quite different from me. i was confident in the parts of my personality that are Different--i had fun owning it, and i saw that people really like that person. the craziest thing was that a huge obstacle in my path was that cptsd causes me to feel physically uncomfortable around people, even people i like, aside from emotional discomfort, but the thing is when your body is getting physical danger signals they're extremely difficult to "ignore" (for a reason!) or put aside to focus on the mental stuff.

this year i just went for it--went through months of extremely draining and uncomfortable "exposure therapy" by way of forcing myself to try to stay present in conversations with people i knew i liked, even if the conversations/their presence freaked me out and drained me. (i'm not some magical uwu inspiration/good luck miracle, for anyone who might be in this situation and feel envious--i've been in intense therapy since 2013, do a lot of my own mental work in between, and take two different medications. it took me 10 years to get there! i say this cause there is no shame in the hard work.) importantly, with the people i felt i trusted enough and whose opinion of me i valued enough for them to know the truth, i just told them what was going on with me. not in any graphic detail or TMI, but i told them one of the things that has a big impact on how i present to the outside world (i suffer from trauma), what this trauma suffering looks like to the outsider (sometimes i stop talking altogether in a conversation, and not just that, but i zone out so hard that it looks like i'm not even paying attention, even though sometimes i still am), and what it means about how i feel about them/how they should take it (it means nothing at all, so please please don't take it personally)

they took this level of openness and honesty very well, and i found that telling them these limitations of mine helped to set me free. not living with the lifetime fear of being "found out," not having to worry while i was having a Trauma Moment that people were thinking badly of me and that it was severely impacting my socialization--all of this suddenly helped me start staying in the present while talking to people and while people were talking to me. and not just stay in the present but--ENJOY it. get something out of it. and, to show my work-friends that even though i have a lot of things not in common with them--that that's cool, and we still have plenty of things we do have in common

the kindness people have shown me this year after Seeing Me and getting to know me was unreal. i don't know how to process it. (this applies to you guys on tumblr too!). so many things have happened this fall and so many things were said to me that i never, ever, EVER thought i would be able to experience. i hope this lasts and i hope i can build on this in the new year.

so yeah...this year was...something alright. i'm always an even age in an even year and the evens are never as good for me as the odds (other than like, age 14. that was a good time.) but let's hope for the best.

now, i hate new year's eve/day, so let's get this shit over with!

[mostlikelytofangirl]

Honestly one of my favourite things about ruoyao is how unhinged a ship it is! Like okay WRH and MY are fundamentally different people but they fit together very nicely! WRH is very capricious and MY knows how to deal with capricious people, WRH seems to be one of the few people in the entire novel to elevate people purely on merit (see: MY, WZL, WQ) and thag drives me nuts!

Like are you serious??? The unhinged megalomaniac is better at recognising and rewarding talent than everyone here??? Says a lot about the jianghu. In the same vein, he seems like the one person that would 100% respect his mom, without being awkward about it because he doesn't give two craps about social conventions or propriety

The same way I don't think MY's kindness is a facade, I don't think his cruelty in WRH's court is one either! MY can be very unhinged and cruel himself when he's pushed to it! (see: JGS's death)

There's also the fact WRH treated him better than anyone until that point (except for LXC) and like, obviously MY was playing a role in Qinshang, but it wasn't a role necessarily antithetical to his character!

It's really fun to explore the whirlwind of emotion MY was dealing with at that point! The power, the rush of WRH's respect and care, so on!

I've read every ruoyao dynamic under the sun (wen-gongzi, wen-furen, codependency, sexy torture times, etc.) And they drive me crazy!!!! Have you seen manhua WRH's reaction to being killed? He doesn't look like he's angry and wants to rage and kill! He looks confused and devastated like he doesn't understand why his talented Yao'er would do this!

It's about the potential. Like yeah WRH is basically a cartoon villain in the books but he's so fun to toy with with the little info we have! One thing that I like to believe about him is that he 100% adores his family! Hurt WX or WC or MY? He'll skin you. He was probably about to shatter baxia and have MY skin NMJ when he died

AAAAHHHH You get me!!!

YES! They are different ppl but they align so well with each other! As you said WRH is the kind to do whatever the hell he wants, and one thing MY is great at is accommodating, and he has no issues with that so long as his own needs are met too, and woULD YOU LOOK AT HOW HE ACTUALLY GOT RECOGNIZED!

And WZL! I forgot about him, but YES, that dude not only got accepted in the sect, he even was given the Wen name! LIKE PLS WRH was going around collecting talented rejects :')

Oh, I totally agree with your assessment of MY. I believe he was an inherently good person, but he was more than capable of cruelty. He probably had to exaggerate a bit in Qishan, but he definitely had what it took already, that cold blood is just something you can't fake, no matter how good an actor. And you know, that's what I love about Wen Yao, that he could be fully himself like that, he didn't have to hide his "dark" side nor pretend to be better to not hurt others' sensibilities bc, as good as he may have been at his core, he was not all about pure righteousness. He understood nuance and the need for harsh measures, and only with the Wen was it properly appreciated (but not exploited and abused like JGS did)

There are so many flavors to the ship indeed! I mean, you are still not going to get the healthiest pairing out of ruoyao lol, but you can get some wonderful codependence or the ever so delicious "I'm horrible to everybody but never to you" dynamics :'D

Ahhh the manhua!! I made this post some time ago PRECISELY bc I was going insane over how crushed WRH was when he discovered his Yao'er betraying him! He wasn't angry, he just couldn't understand why T-T

Lol he's a wonderful cartoon villain XD. It's about his potential as well, how we can have fun with the bits and pieces of info bc those are actually telling. And I do agree that he cared about his family, even if he wasn't aware of how he came off to them (aka that one donghua scene with WC kneeling), bc we would have been told otherwise since this is the Horrible Fathers novel :P. Also iirc, the whole "torture of NMJ right in front of him" thing was bc he killed WX, sooooo...

[alianoralacanta]

Coulthard, Sato and Pit Stop Misadventures: Spanish GP (14-05-2007)

Context: The blog plugin for the forum received an upgrade, including shiny new mood and activity indicators! I mostly used it to state what I was reading at the time, because I was and still am a bookworm. (In case you are wondering, my current reading is:

Travel reading: The Time Traveller's Guide to Restoration Britain by Ian Mortimer

Home reading: "No Offence But…" by Gina Martin

e-Reading: A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

"Light reading": GP Racing, August 2024)

I'd spent most of the weekend trying to persuade my undergraduate dissertation to print off the computer (I'm not sure if my alma mater has an online copy - it probably does - but since I didn't write it under my psuedonym, I hope you will forgive me for not linking to it). Thus, I'd been on an adrenaline high when I finally succeeded. "Most" of the weekend, because I'd also watched the Spanish Grand Prix, where the accidental comedy had leavened things nicely…

Coulthard, Sato and Pit Stop Misadventures: Spanish GP

Sleep

Reading The Age of Spiritual Machines by Ray Kurzweil

No Category

Firstly, I apologise if I doze off in the middle of this entry - I've spent a lot of today convincing an unreliable computer system to print off a 2800-word essay (I managed it and handed it in with one minute to spare - don't ask!)

The "Oh no it's all falling to pieces" feeling must have struck David Coulthard at some point during the race, as his Red Bull once again attempted to thwart his efforts to finish a race for once. I was very impressed by his ability to almost maintain the same speed minus third gear as he had with it - and fifth is a great way to finish the first race his midfield car has finished with him in it.

I particularly loved James Allen's comment just before the gearbox issue manifested himself; "This is the best performance we've seen from David since… [pause] …er, the last time we saw a good performance from him a few weeks ago." This proves three things:

1) Walkerisms still sound funny, even when Murray Walker isn't the one saying them 2) four weeks is too long to wait between races 3) David Coulthard is going through one of the best phases of his career - not that the points scoreboard shows that right now

Speaking of good performances from rarely-rewarded people, Takuma Sato put in a lovely race from 13th to 8th. With all the attention ITV lavished upon Anthony Davidson and Jenson Button, you could have been fooled into thinking the guy who'd outqualified both of them didn't exist.

At least, until Sato took Giancarlo Fisichella's 8th place off him and scored Super Aguri's first point ever. Even I, a Fisi supporter who thought that it was unfair that a malfunctioning pitlane device should have put him in that position, could not begrudge Takuma his just reward for a great drive. It seems that Takuma is currently having more success with his self-orientated team than Jacques Villnueve did at BAR. That is a credit to the staff at Leafield as well as to Takuma.

Returning to the pitlane, I was rather miffed at the stuff that was happening in the pitlane - and not just because the Renault rigs forced both Giancarlo and his team-mate Heikki Kovalainen to switch to the slower three-stop strategy mid-race. No, the incident that really got my blood boiling was Massa's portable barbecue.

It is rare for a fuel hose to do that sort of thing, and it was dangerous for both the Ferrari and the McLaren mechanics (the fire had nearly burnt itself out by the time Felipe went alongside the McLaren staffers, but it could have so easily been a considerable amount worse. Intertechnik are not in my good books right now, and I'm sure they're not in Ferrari or Reanult's good books either.

BMW could not blame Intertechnik for their Carry On moment - they caused that one by themselves. How Nick managed to miss the front-right jack man not raising his hand is a minor mystery (not that it was really his fault, but…). How he got away with getting it around the track minus the front right wheel nut without being a hazard to anyone or damaging his car is a major one. (On the upside, the shot of the Toyota mechanic holding the nut aloft, in his best "Has anyone lost something?" posture, was priceless).

It has to be said though that the Spanish GP has been the most interesting race for me all season. I'm not sure what that says about the three flyaways, except that I am now looking forward to Monaco with renewed vigour.

On the blog front, you may have noticed that I have recently added a menu on the right-hand side of the blog screen. With access to a blogroll and the site policy, it should help make things that little bit more enjoyable. Please tell me if there's any other changes you would like to see.

Oh, and I broke the 2000-visit boundary today. I think my involvement in the wider blogosphere may have a lot to do with it, but I am pleased to see so many enjoy my site. Please come as many times as you like, and I hope you'll be here when I celebrate the next milestone (and for the more serious entries in between).

Wow! I managed to stay awake for all that. I'll just go and have a lie-down now…

La Canta Magnifica Blog - After the very interesting Spanish GP, Alianora La Canta looks at two of the stand out drives of the race (David Coulthard and Takuma Sato), as well as the unintentional action down the pitlane.

[byrdiboo]

There is no sexism in Ba Sing Se

By now I think everyone has their opinions formed about the live action ATLA remake but as a non-fan I figured I'd offer my two cents to anyone still on the fence or who might be interested in a slightly less biased opinion. To clarify, I don't hate the show, I actually like hearing my friends talk about the fan theories and how they thought the various heavy subjects are handled, I just never got into it myself. Because my partner is one of those people who did get into it, I've at least seen up to the point of Kyoshi Village in both shows (ep2 Netflix, ep4 original). One of the things I've seen most people excited about is the special effects, especially the bending. I will say, it looks...fine. I'm not up on my fighting styles but the choreography seems decent. The effects are nothing groundbreaking - we've had these water and fire sims for at least 10 years - but it's definitely not awful to look at...when you can see it. Way too much of the show (ie more than 0%) utilizes the inexplicably popular "someone forgot to turn the lights on when filming" lighting technique and "shakeycam meets too-many-cuts" editing with motionblur out the ass for good measure (some of the opening scenes are on youtube, judge for yourself). At least all two of the creatures we get to actually look at look awesome. Perhaps the biggest thing I've seen talked about is the changes to the characters themselves. I will start by saying the actors deserve no ill will, they're clearly doing their best with a subject they love and a script written by people who thought ATLA should read like GoT. Aang and the others have a few goofy moments thrown in to keep people happy but for the most part he plays the part of Main Character Boy while the others are The Support Characters, rather than three children in extraordinary times doing what they think makes sense. This is where my knowledge of Aang and Katara is lacking, but I do want to talk about Sokka cuz his changes (rightly) had a lot of people worried (and a lot of his character arc is pretty obvious from ep 1, rather than revealed past the point I've seen). They didn't just tone down his sexism, they removed it entirely, taking him from an obnoxious but teachable idiot to a generic annoying dudebro. Maybe this is just me, but I was endlessly annoyed that they took away his sexism without addressing the things that made him sexist in the first place. After being told by the leaderly elderly matriarch character about the fire nation attacks wiping out most of the village, we are told Sokka is how he is because he was appointed the village leader at 13 for...reasons. So the village is still sexist enough to declare a 13 year old boy leader over the woman everyone already looks up to, but this didn't affect his character in any meaningful way, I guess? And for those looking forward to the Kyoshi warriors, you can go ahead and put those hopes down. The warriors themselves get minimal action time before Deus Ex Kyoshi-ghost-possession (yes, really) deals with the fire nation attackers for them. As for the love interest, they took what was a solid moment of "sexist gets ass beat by woman, begs woman for training, learns woman can do stuff too, ends up liking and respecting woman so hard she reciprocates" into the most bland "popular girl falls for cute boy at school" complete with eyelash fluttering, shy-can't-look-at-yous, and the most vomit-inducing "training" scene I've seen in a long time. No lessons learned, no character growth achieved, but hey they got rid of sexism or whatever. All this to say, I'm willing to give live action some passes, but personally I don't think this one's even worth a hate watch. I won't tell you to hate it, it does have a few moments of brilliance, but they're the glitter on a turd imo and Netflix doesn't deserve to be rewarded with your watch time. Despite my misgivings, the show is (supposedly) still getting at least mixed reviews from fans and non fans alike, so if you've bothered to see it I'm curious what you thought the remake (or my impression) got right or wrong.