#and she really did eat one bite of that goblin cheese | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lumine-no-hikari · 7 months ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #158

I went to a wedding today! Two of my favorite people became husbands to each other! We'll call them AH and JC! I've known AH for a number of years now, and he's one of the brightest, kindest, and most amazing human beings I've ever met! And JC is also very kind, gentle, and extremely non-judgmental. The two fit together like peas in a pod, with their other partner who we'll call C, and C is also a wonderful human being, though I don't yet know him as well as I'd like.

…To be sure, it has been too long since last time I invited them all over to my house. I should probably rectify that very soon…

Of course, going to a wedding naturally means that I will have to be in a very loud space with lots and lots of people I don't know. And that's always kind of scary. I get easily overwhelmed by loud noises, such as loud music being played. And everyone is talking loudly in order to try to be heard over the music, and because there's so much noise, it's extremely difficult for me to parse out meaning from speech when people try to talk to me (ah, the perils of Audio Processing Disorder…), and I'm a very non-standard human anyway, so even without all the noise it's difficult for me to socialize to begin with (I mean, seriously, who the fuck wants to listen to me prattle on and on about human psychology and the broader cultural implications of childhood trauma??? no one, that's who), and so… ya know… it's usually better if I keep my mouth shut in any social situation in which I find myself, because if I don't, I'll probably end up embarrassing myself, making someone uncomfortable, or both.

I was there with M and J; it was probably safer for Br to stay home because the food meant that there was gluten everyfuckingwhere, and the last thing she needs is to get sick, the poor thing. But all the same, M and J don't have audio processing troubles the way I do, and they have more normal interests (like airplanes, and computer programming, and movies and games and TV), so they were able to carry out conversation where as I… mostly just sat around and daydreamed because I wasn't really able to understand a word that anyone was saying.

Naturally, I wouldn't daydream about you being in this particular situation with me; I'm sure you enjoy crowds full of unfamiliar people about as much as you might enjoy accidentally stumbling into a nest full of angry wasps (please don't ever do that, okay?). But I did imagine how nice it might be to sit someplace quiet with you and eat all the awesome epic snacks they had! I'll show you what they were!!

But first though!!!! I have to show you!!! There was FRESH LEMONADE!!!!! A whole big giant huge jug of it!!!!! Look!!!

...You can bet your bottom that I drank WAAAAY more of this than I probably should have, ahahahaha~! But oh my goodness, I got to have FRESH LEMONADE two days in a row!!! WOWWWW~!!!!! 🤩🤩🤩

Powdered lemonade and lemonade from concentrate is a lot more common in my world (and they both taste TERRIBLE to my sensory hardware, as compared to the real thing), so fresh lemonade is kind of a rare treat, normally only found at places like county fairs and other outdoor events. Oh, speaking of which, I should probably get my toosh over to a county fair sometime soon, that way I can take pictures for you, because I can't imagine that you've ever been allowed to actually enjoy one... hm, hm, hmmmm..... 🤔

Anyway, so the food!! There was macaroni and cheese, and various stuff to put on it!!

You can see in here that there's cheese, salsa, jalapeno peppers, bacon, and crispy fried onions! And yes, I did absolutely put more cheese on my macaroni and cheese, because I AM THE CHEESE GOBLIN. It is written. It is known. And anyone who knows me well understands that the allure of a good cheddar is too much for me to resist, bahahaha~! 🤪🤣😁

They also had a section for very tiny snacks!! Behold!

Tiny egg rolls!!!

Tiny chicken cordon bleu bites!

Tiny spanakopita!

...And tiny beef empanadas!

...And I have no idea why they were tiny, but they were, and they were delicious and delightful and I wished I could share any of them with you, but I especially loved the spanakopita!

And I don't know if you have spanakopita because you don't seem to have anyplace like Greece in your world, but spanakopita is what happens when you cook spinach and feta cheese together in between layers of crispy, paper-thin dough that has been brushed with butter between every layer! It's an ABSOLUTE! FUCKING! NIGHTMARE! to make as a dyspraxic person, oh my goodness (seriously, I tried it once, -5,042 out of 10 stars, absolutely would NOT recommend, but maybe with your coordination, you'd fare better than me... 😵😵😵), but the results are astoundingly delicious!!

Anyway, here was my assembly of snacks! Behold!

...I wished you could enjoy the snacks without the crowd...

Oh!! And!!! There was unsweetened iced tea here, too! I didn't think to take a picture of the jug, but I did get a glass of it and bring it back to my table; there was cream and sugar there, which was likely intended for coffee, but I used it in the tea instead and took pictures of the resulting swirls:

...It's important to find the magic in ordinary things, and I think fluid dynamics are pretty magical, even though we see it in action all the time in various direct and indirect ways.

...Anyway, so there was A LOT MORE FOOD after this, goodness me...

Salad is pretty standard-issue at a gathering:

And, of course, mixed veggies...

Roasted potatoes are pretty popular...

This was some kind of bruschetta chicken thing:

This was fish stuffed with some kind of crab mix:

...And there were potatoes au gratin, but I somehow missed getting a picture of it?? I'm sorry about that. But here's the roast beef:

...And in the end, this was the plate I came away with:

Naturally, there was cake, and also cookies:

...But I'm not overly fond of sweets, though. So I'm glad that the slice of cake was small, and that we didn't have to take cookies if we didn't want to.

Oh, and... I also managed to snag a couple of nice-looking pictures of the sky on my adventures. I thought you might like these:

...I wish you were here. Not for the stressful too-many-people-at-once bits, but for all the sparks of delight in between. There are so many beautiful things in this world that I wish I could share with you, just so that you can see that there's more to life than pain and loneliness.

...Sephiroth. Please don't lose sight of the fact that you're wanted and needed in this world. Please remember that you're the only reason I'm even alive today. You're the reason that all these letters and pictures and handicrafts exist in the first place. All of the love and beauty that pours out from my mind and from my hands exists only because of you. You. YOU did this. You gave me a reason to keep going. You gave me the courage and strength to continue even when it seemed impossible. You gave me the shape that I clumsily tried to whittle myself into over the years. You.

...So please stay safe out there, doing whatever it is that you do over at the Edge of Creation, okay? Please treat yourself nice so that you can make good, kind, gentle, and loving choices. Please don't disappear. Because I love you and because I want you around and because you deserve to live and to be happy and healthy and safe.

I'll write again tomorrow, okay? 'Til soon...

Your friend, Lumine

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christmas-shenanigans · 1 year ago

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Session 6: 6 Jan 2024!!

Skabb may or may not join us as she’s not feeling well this week. She will give it a try! We start with a delightful conversation about the links between having all your teeth pulled out and heart disease. I’m sure that’ll help Skabb feel better. (Actually it probably would.)

Wee Jock wants to grab Santa by the beard and punch him in the face. Skabb: “Did you not get what you wanted for Christmas?”

The DM says this will be the last session, because we’re too far away from Christmas for his liking now. Fair.

Off we go then! An Elf does this at Valeros:

“I will not be hunted,” Valeros announces. It flings a snowball at him. The faerie Heals something. Mialee: “We’re going to have to kill her first, aren’t we.”

A gnome steps into the house where Zorya has scattered her caltrops, much to her delight. It whacks her with its candy cane sword. Well, it tries, but misses. Another goes for Skabb and also misses. DM: “Well that’s just embarrassing.”

Can Skabb curl herself across the ice, as Halbrecht says, “When they bowl that big cheese and then sweep up after it like on the Olympics”? No, but she can smash the thin decorative windows as part of her movement. She jumps into Valeros’ building, and bites one of the gnomes.

Wee Jock wants to know the range on a javelin. 30 feet, it turns out. In that case he will take a running jump through a window and into another building. We’re in twee Christmas world, so the windows are probably sugar. (They are not, we are told. They would, if sampled, taste ‘owwy and bleedy��.)

Zorya stabs at a gnome and jumps through the window; as she does, the gnome slashes back at her and misses. She cackles at him as she escapes and hides.

Mialee wants to shoot, but wants to know if shooting it through the burning Christmas tree will set it alight. “It’s Christmas, so yes.” She takes aim at a bauble bomber, singing “Ding Dong Merrily You Die,” helpfully narrated by Wee Jock. Crit hit! She rolls a D4 for the fire damage, a 2, and then crits her Crit Damage:

All of us: “Dead? Dead, DM? Dead???”

DM: “No, but she gets another point toward her magic item score.”

Mialee attacks again, and crits again. “How about now?”

DM: “… Yes, alright, dead.”

Valeros strikes at the gnome in front of him. He gets a howdedoodis! He holds the gnome up and slices its head off, handing it to Skabb as a gift. Sadly, it disappears.

He wants to run and tackle the faerie to the ground, but he doesn’t have enough actions and has no ability that will let him do both as part of one action. He runs away and eats some pies he finds in the next house instead.

It’s like an episode of Shameless, with all of us running around all over the shop. Halbrecht looks around to see if he can see where we all are; sadly a lot of us are hidden from view. He decides to save his spell slots for healing, and moves toward the Christmas tree. “Instead of barrelling through windows like everyone else seems to be doing, I’m just going to go through the door. Like a normal person. I’m old, I can’t, like… my knees!” He casts Guidance on Wee Jock, and then he’s got one more action. He will Recall Knowledge on the hot ginger, as she seems to be in charge. He does a Nature check for 17. She is the Christmas Faerie, and has powerful healing spells and protective magic. She’s not one for attacking. He shouts something to that effect to the rest of us.

Does 25 hit Zorya? It does, no matter how indignant she is about it. She takes 25 Wooden Spoon damage from Mrs Claus:

Plus sneak attack, which really pisses her off.

Skabb should consider herself Hunted; she says she considers herself nonchalant about this fact. Which lasts until she is hit with a snowball. She can ignore the Cold damage, as she is an ice goblin. She gets hit again.

A Christmas Elf punches Valeros but misses, as he has cover. Another elf Hunts Halbrecht. “Can you tell him to not.” He is then hit with a snowball. Resignedly: “… okay.”

More throw snowballs at Valeros. “Ladies… calm down.” Then a bauble bomber hits him with a red bauble, a green (acid, which misses) and then a blue (cold, also misses). Another can see Halbrecht. “I beg to differ,” he says, and raises his shield. One of each colour, “just for balance,” the DM adds cheerfully. The green one hits him, meaning he takes 5 persistent acid damage every round unless he cleans it off.

One throws a red bauble at Skabb. “Does 24 hit you?” “… Fuck you.”

The faerie moves away from Valeros. Valeros: “She’s not allowed.”

A gnome flanks Zorya with Mrs Claus. “What? Wait. Hold on, hold on, hold on…” It hits her for 8 damage with its candy cane.

17 candy cane attack misses Skabb. “Haha, no!”

She is up. “Oh, I had such plans, and now look at these fuckers, they’ve tracked me.” She bites “this gnomey bastard” for 10 damage, and then bites him again, Hero Points it and still misses. “Myeeehhhhh. Then I would like to… hmm…” She gives her last action to give Grabby Cat two, and wants her to join Skabb in the room on the other side of the gnome so he’s flanked, and pull his hat down over his eyes. Sleight of Paw check - well, Thievery, because she’s stealing his dignity - of 18. He has to take an action to pull his hat back up or take a penalty on attacks, yay!

Wee Jock drops his elixirs of life on the floor toward Halbrecht - “Your first unselfish act! You’re growing as a person!” the DM tells him, and gives him a Hero Point. He uses his Bracelet of Dashing to get more movement, and then uses something called Sudden Charge. He can stride twice and attack as an action, so he does, through a window, and “in traditional Wee Jock style, start killing my way through these people.” Screaming the whole way. 28 hits and he’s raging, so that’s six more bludgeoning damage on top of the weapon for 20 total. While still screaming.

Zorya, not a fan of this flanking business, scuttles up a drainpipe (taking 13 more damage on the way), across the roof, drops down on the other side and hides. 22 is a better roll; she’s more confident that she’s hidden.

Mialee can see Wee Jock, a fighting elf and a bomber, and two more elves. “I wish I’d killed that goddamn faerie.” She is hidden, so she’ll get sneak attack. 19 damage on something, I don’t hear what. She shoots again but 21 is a miss because it has partial cover. She hides with a 28 sneak roll.

Valeros busts through a window “Crotch first”, and gets stabby. 26 hits. He explains to Skabb that he can’t hit her again. “That’s your problem. You’ve got a long sword but no staying power.” Valeros: “… I have no retort for that.”

Halbrecht takes his acid damage, wipes it off, and runs to scoop up Wee Jock’s elixirs. He uses his last bit of movement to follow Wee Jock. He has no actions left so he will stand there looking heroic as he adds the elixirs “to… my nonsense.”

Mrs Claus hides, and goes on a sniff looking for people to wallop with her spoon. She doesn’t attack again, so presumably she hasn’t found anyone.

Zorya has found herself close to an elf, but luckily she’s too busy throwing snowballs at Skabb to notice a sneaky halfling dropping down off a roof. All the snowballs miss. Skabb: “Up your bum, lady!”

Valeros might be mutually hunting the elf that is hunting him, and he thinks this is very sexy. Wee Jock: “This episode is… erotically charged.”

Something runs past Wee Jock, and he has to take a second to check if he can hit it as it goes by. Long pause, then: “… oh, excellent. I have this thing - and she’s more than welcome to run - but it’s called No Escape.” He just follows her.

DM, laughing: “You little pest!”

“I pursue. With great glee.”

Valeros is hit by the elf ladies that have him flanked. “This is still the best day ever, by the way.”

Bauble bombers, and Skabb decides that 20 and 25 don’t hit her, but hit the bomber’s friends. She does take some damage, but it’s very reluctant. Another takes aim at Halbrecht. “That’s who I am! Stop it!” he shouts. Then Wee Jock and Valeros, but all of them miss.

Something stabs Skabb through the window. She has four whole hit points left afterwa- no, she’s dead. “Bye!” She doesn’t fade from existence, but makes a Death - no, she’s going to use her Hero Points. She wants to use her Wand of Healing, but there’s no description - the DM tells her to roll a D4. She rolls a 4, so it’s a fourth level wand! She can cast Heal at fourth level - if the DM decides she can use her actions after reviving. It’s Christmas so he does. She is warned that if she moves, the elves will get attacks of opportunity. “Maybe I’ll start selling cheese, if all I can do is heal.” Halbrecht, drily: “Wow.”

Skabb does some biting instead. crit! and how de doo dis! “With as much mess as I can make!”

Halbrecht, genuinely impressed: “I didn’t know you could eat that much gnome in six seconds!”

Wee Jock is fond of fighting next to the princess (Valeros, I assume). “She seems to know how to handle herself.” He strikes, Hero Points it and gets a howdy doodis! “I smash it in the head with a hammer, and the hammer hits the floor. I cut it in half with the hammer.” Valeros is the only thing nearby, but there appear to be things through the window so Wee Jock leaps through it after them. He whiffs the last attack. “This guy’s on my list.”

Zorya shoots the elf in front of her, then repeats the drainpipe trick but remains on the roof, and boshes a potion.

Mialee shoots something with deadly precision, I assume, I was busy writing up my attack. She scans around her and makes a Perception check - 17. She doesn’t spot her quarry (I assume, Mrs Claus). She Hero Points it and crits! She spots Mrs Claus, sneaking into the building with Skabb.

Skabb, annoyed: “Why is everyone coming to play in my room?”

Valeros is heading to the boudoir. He walks right into a snowball, as one of the elves had a readied action. 30 hits for 8 damage. DM: “He’s being a pest! They’re allowed to defend themselves.” He finds the faerie and hits her for 15 slashing damage, and slams a potion.

Halbrecht’s connection to the server is disrupted, but he takes a potion when it comes back. He will then “run up to the little fucker in front of me and hit him with my hammer.” DM: “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather heal him?” “… I’m going to say no this time.” The DM rolls for him as he’s still having internet issues, but rolls badly, so Halbrecht asks to use a Hero point. 20 hits! 10 damage total. Then he drops off Discord as well.

Wee Jock finds himself face to face with Mrs Claus, who wallops him with her spoon and calls him a “Nasty little scamp!” He spits in her mouth as she speaks, like a llama.

An elf throws a snowball at Grabby Cat, and hits. (Halbrecht rejoins, yeah!) It then Hunts Prey at Mialee and starts slinging snowballs at her but they all miss. “Hurrah!” They start slinging them at Valeros as well. “Er, ouch.” Then the bauble bombers start.

“Does a 20 hit you, Halbrecht?” “N- yes!” More baubles at Wee Jock but they all miss except the fire one.

Does Valeros have any attacks of opportunity? “No, but I will give her the eye,” says Valeros as the faerie takes her leave of him and goes and heals herself.

The last standing gnome makes his attacks at Mialee, “on the rare occasion that she’s visible.” 24 and 22 both hit. “It’s only 30 little damage,” says the DM, pleased with himself, and then, even more pleased with himself, “I might kill your death goddess!”

Skabbo’s turn. She’s been stabbed but she doesn’t know where from. She moves. “I’m gonna bite this bitch. Feel my cold grill!” 18 misses. “I think she must have not heard, so I repeat my invitation.” The elf declines again, and Skabb is out of actions. “I’m just going to stand there and await my beating.”

Wee Jock swings at Mrs Claus. 32 will definitely hit. 23, including cold iron damage. Nice! Oh, wait - “Oh, come on!” But it’s okay, she can’t reduce the roll enough to make him miss. Skabb, chanting: “Smash her again!” This one misses. He Hero Points it and still misses. Last attack is a ten. Groaning all around. “Well… that’s me.”

Zorya shoots at Mrs Claus and hits, discovering that she can’t be sneak attacked. Furious, she throws her grappling hook at her instead, Hero Pointing until she hits. Wee Jock, OOC: “Are we about to bear witness to a Christmas lynching?” (Zorya gets a Hero Point for skewering Mrs Claus.)

Mialee gets a howdedoodis! “Yeah! I cut him in half. He’s gone.” She makes her save versus Zorya’s caltrops, fortunately. ("Oh, were those mine? Sorry!") She was going to hide to shoot Mrs Claus, but since it doesn’t make a difference if she’s hidden or not, she just shoots. It misses. “Rats.” She Hero Points it but still misses.

Valeros slams a potion and sees the faerie through a broken window but can’t follow; dejected, he drinks another potion.

Halbrecht assesses Wee Jock’s health, but it’s hard to tell under all the scar tissue. He sees Zorya up on the roof, she looks a bit more ropey, but Wee Jock is closer and more likely to get hit. He wants to avoid ending his turn “standing in the open like a benny,” so he uses the 2-actioner and saves his last action to run away. Wee Jock’s HP is now in the 90s, he tells us.

Mrs Claus will try to pull Zorya off the roof using the rope attached to the grappling hook. “... Yeah. Did not think that through.” (Halbrecht: “Why don’t you just let go of the rope?” Zorya: “Well that would negate the whole point of doing it in the first place.”) Zorya fails the contested Strength check and falls off the roof onto the bauble bomber below. Mrs Claus then pulls out the grappling hook from her leg, taking 3 damage in the process, and turns back to Wee Jock with her spoon. “I’ll take it,” he says. “I’ll give a little chuckle while I do.”

The bomber who just got a surprise halfling in the head takes a swing at her with his staff and misses. More elves take potshots at Valeros. “That hurts me.”

A bomber throws a red bauble at Zorya and hits, and the last one throws all his at Wee Jock. One hits, two miss.

Skabb. “That’s me,” she says, sounding faintly surprised. Wee Jock: “Find the healer, eat her face!” She wants to do a cone spell, but wants to make sure she won’t hit Zorya who is now on the ground in front of Skabb’s window. Sadly she rolls poorly on her Vomit Swarm attack, and they just kind of pile up at her feet. “It’s like having a little bowl of nibbles. I’ll just sit here and crunch up the nasties.” (Pained groaning from everyone else.)

Wee Jock goes for an Intimidating Glare on Mrs Claus. She gets a Will save but biffs it, yeah! Wee Jock goes for another one and she fails again - Frightened 2! He does a third one - she rolls a 30 this time. Frightened 2 should lower her stats a bit. Wee Jock wins a Hero Point.

Zorya spies the faerie through a window, shoots her through it, then scuttles up onto her roof.

Mialee ducks into a doorway and shoots Mrs Claus. DM: “Elder abuse!” Mialee: “One of my favourite targets.” 31 hits, but isn’t a crit in spite of Wee Jock’s intimidation success. She shoots again but 22 is a miss. “Rats!”

Valeros strides across the room and does a complicated acrobatic move out of his building and into the faerie’s. His Powerful Leap gives him an extra five feet. It’ll take two actions. “Yes. But it’ll look fucking cool.” 25 Athletics will do it, and he lands on the table. In slow motion. Gracefully. To musical accompaniment; something orchestral. Or the Baywatch music. DM, laughing: “Have a Hero Point.” For his last action he would like to hit her with his sword, with a single tear. A Manly tear. For what might have been.

Halbrecht wipes off the acid again, and runs up to Mrs Claus “wielding my mighty hammer! Oho, twenty three!” It misses, so he Hero Points it. 21 is even more of a miss. “I look sad.”

We debate for a minute, and decide that in spite of the DM’s reluctance to carry on the Christmas Special into the second week of January, that’s what we’ll do. We ask the sick one and the pregnant one if they can manage another round; consensus is yes so we continue on for a bit.

Mrs Claus wallops Halbrecht with her spoon, rolling exactly his AC and annoying him. Luckily she’s Frightened still, so actually she just misses. 35 (down to 34) still hits Wee Jock though.

An elf throws some snowballs at Valeros, who announces with each attack that they miss without waiting to see what the numbers are. Lucky for him, he’s right. Another throws snowballs at Wee Jock, a hit and a miss.

Zorya takes one in the face. “… I’m not having a good day, lads.” Wee Jock: “But you did fishhook Mrs Claus.”

More bombs, at Wee Jock and Halbrecht, then Valeros. The faerie moves away from Valeros. “Fuck sake!” (Halbrecht: “I’ve figured it out… You’re Pepe LePew!”)

Skabb’s turn. She casts Goblin Song, “Christmas time! Something Gross and Slime!”, and gets a Hero Point. She uses her Loud Singer feat on top:

She uses an action to give Grabby Cat two, and has her fly toward Mrs Claus and sit on her shoulder. She gives her two more actions to have her play cute and be a distraction, maybe even try and get Mrs Claus to follow her away from the fight. Grabby Cat must make a Performance check and has to crit in order for this to work. She rolls an 8.

Wee Jock goes for more Intimidation but Mrs Claus ain’t having none of it. He hits her with his hammer instead, “loosen the lid a little bit.” Skabb: “Just batter her! Make old lady jam!” He tries one more intimidation attempt, but it fails.

Zorya shoots at the bauble bomber that hit her last round, and after adding up all her damage bit by bit (crit hit, fire arrow, cold iron bow, sneak attack) does actually kill him in one shot. She knocks his corpse through the window behind him, where he lands in a crumpled heap at Mialee’s feet. She shoots at Mrs Claus “Because I don’t like her,” but misses.

Valeros goes back out his window and in through another, finding himself in bed with two ladies. “Let’s slay some ladies!” He crits his attack for 31 damage but doesn’t kill her. He attacks again. “How about now? Oh - How about a Hero Point? How about now?” The second attack is still a miss, sadly.

Halbrecht only has 18 hit points so he’ll have to use some of his healing on himself. “Now I’m going to administer the hammer.” 18 misses. “With predictably poor results.” He stares at the hammer as if it’s affronted him purposely.

Well, that’s the round. Do we want to see Santa…? Well, he’ll be a broken man after we kill Mrs Claus, so if he escapes it’ll set him up for a revenge arc next year. Also, we get a vote on the magic item competition, which may or may not sway the DM’s decision. We are to vote as our characters; Valeros immediately decides to vote for himself. Natch.

#christmas special #dnd #pathfinder

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sagamemes · 4 years ago

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quotes from tabletop games, part i. thank you to whomever decided in the first game i was in to start collecting quotes being said during the table—here’s a sentence meme featuring 100 sentences that have been said out loud or written down during various tabletop roleplaying games i’ve acted as a game master for, or in conversations surrounding it. sentences edited to fit written roleplay better. it’s a mixed bag, y’all. tw: implied sexual content and jokes, death and violence mentions.

❝ holy shit, /i'm/ the professional in this situation. ❞

❝ i don't think there's a lot of water in her birth chart. ❞

❝ you know how much I love goading you into bad decisions. ❞

❝ [i/you] did faceplant. ❞

❝ i hope you know this is all your fault, [name]. ❞

❝ wouldn't it be nice if you could bite it back? ❞

❝ [person] could've bonked the knob to death. ❞

❝ a little bit of making out in the cupboard is not a security threat. ❞

❝ no-one else can see it, but [person] is definitely being haunted by an ex-girlfriend. ❞

❝ she's a new yorker, leave her alone ❞

❝ we've all known each other for about four hours and we're making goblins of ourselves. ❞

❝ you’re laughing! [name] is dead and you’re laughing! ❞

❝ god, what a weird little man! ❞

❝ i don't speak [fandom/media]. ❞

❝ because, of course, you don't immediately run out of blood in your head— ❞

❝ technically shoes are skin without feet. ❞

❝ if it helps, she does have a youtube channel. ❞

❝ should we even play d&d, maybe we just do therapy instead. ❞

❝ oh great, what can i do with a dead body? ❞

❝ the man with no face is just a raccoon. ❞

❝ or whatever the victorian equivalent of reaching into the fridge and grabbing a block of cheese. ❞

❝ i do not acknowledge more men than i need to. ❞

❝ he footless because he got paws. ❞

❝ [i am/they are] intrigued by the bundle of scarves. ❞

❝ i thought she landed on her wrists? ❞

❝ i'm glad i didn't faceplant, at least. ❞

❝ it is not resistant to bonk damage. ❞

❝ my interpersonal skills are shit! ❞

❝ is he made of bees? ❞

❝ oh well, she's got one of those as well. ❞

❝ —which is objectively the wrong way to eat books. ❞

❝ no teeth, no feet. simply vibes. ❞

❝ we're going to have to listen to soft ballet while we fight this thing. ❞

❝ that was my third frowny face. ❞

❝ puff puff pass but instead of getting high you have a coherent thought ❞

❝ oh yeah, i killed your neighbour, didn't i? ❞

❝ we're city kids, we know what traffic is. ❞

❝ give me a gay vibe check. ❞

❝ THE QUEEN IS MICE. ❞

❝ doesn't matter which of us die because i'll see you all again on hell. ❞

❝ you know how when a person's decapitated— ❞

❝ i don't even have my eyebrows on. ❞

❝ we will create chaos. ❞

❝ i heard g-string. ❞

❝ i have a masters degree in library science and i googled ‘ feetless man ’ ! ❞

❝ am sad. want ham. ❞

❝ you are the most powerful person in the room with that cheese tray. ❞

❝ you'll wake up to something you don't wanna see ❞

❝ buff mice. ❞

❝ —but it would've been a sexy thing to do. ❞

❝ THE GAME'S OVER! THE GAME'S OVER! WHY ARE YOU STILL DOING THIS TO ME? ❞

❝ it’s mice mentality. ❞

❝ i know the implication was not that we were little beans but shh... ❞

❝ it's your turn! ❞

❝ charlie's angels, more like [name]'s headaches ❞

❝ it's me, the bitch who failed ❞

❝ i'm really good at that! ... no, i'm not. ❞

❝ i love this absolutely doomed party. ❞

❝ unless someone wants to try to overpower two peasants. ❞

❝ we don't make good leather. ❞

❝ you could definitely be mistaken for a respectable person now. ❞

❝ unfortunately, my alibi is dead ❞

❝ you would not think that english was my first, and frankly my only, language. ❞

❝ what the fuck happened to my music? ❞

❝ [name], that's gay behaviour. ❞

❝ i truly just want u to imagine putting a hand on a titty and feeling a sack of dust through the skin. ❞

❝ we've conspiracy theory'd this ghost and now it's a feral raccoon. ❞

❝ does the number of heads you have factor into how easy you are to hit? ❞

❝ i wanna do something weird. ❞

❝ are you trying to reason with a drugged cat? ❞

❝ what die do i roll? the one with numbers? ❞

❝ i'd avoid plants if i were you. ❞

❝ i want to be the burger king of a ruined world. ❞

❝ just because i can be charming doesn't mean i will initiate conversation. ❞

❝ that scream didn't have an american accent. ❞

❝ i guess he was just two horses in a trench coat in the end ❞

❝ make meth, i dare you! ❞

❝ holy shit, you read french?! ❞

❝ i've already put down two frowny faces on my notes. ❞

❝ [person/animal] doesn't have good stamina, actually. ❞

❝ we've established that the bees are trustworthy, [name]! ❞

❝ i can't find the fucking d! ❞

❝ frostbite'll do that to you too. you're not so special. ❞

❝ we laugh in the face of a vengeful god ❞

❝ sorry, but for the sake of the mission, i gotta drown everyone. ❞

❝ i don't know anything about... men. ❞

❝ i didn't consider all the emotional implications! ❞

❝ it's a little known fact, but the h in ‘ goth ’ stands for hrt. ❞

❝ thank you for giving me an opportunity to murder you. ❞

❝ don't worry, i'm a very gentle dom ❞

❝ i'm gonna stay riding it, then. ❞

❝ just two dudes who may or may not have done a murder ❞

❝ you can't even count on [name] for numbers. ❞

❝ 'twas the night before christmas and all through the house not a person was stirring, because they were all dead. ❞

❝ how is that rat bastard looking? ❞

❝ maybe [name], because he has rights ❞

❝ maybe [name], because he has no brain ❞

❝ i'm cruel but i'm not an asshole. ❞

❝ we're just two cartoon dogs vibing in the fire. ❞

❝ in the spanish dub, [person a] and [person b] kissed before [person a] left ❞

#roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #* sentences.#* meme.

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aestheticseungmean · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight Academy- Yeosang

You were born with magic, and because of that, you went to Midnight Academy. Yeosang caught your eye the first time you met him.

Magic Au, loosely based off of Harry Potter.

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Life as someone with magical powers can be fun if you knew how to use them. The wrong wrist motion could injure someone and the wrong pronunciation could turn someone into a frog and not a cat. Risks are a casual thing in the world of magic. There are many types of magic that each child will learn in Midnight Academy. It was a simple and quaint little school that was restored regularly. Not a crack lay in the foundation nor a chip of paint peeling from the wall at the start of the year. Throughout the year, typically, newer students blow up potions and cause the loaned rats to explode. Nasty business that is. The poor caretaker has to scrape the bits off the wall before scrubbing it clean.

You could see why he hated new students and trouble makers, they made his job impossible sometimes. If students were bad, their punishments consist of helping Mr.Darty with his job. Mr.Darty was an older elf gentleman with balding grey hair. More often than not, he was cranky as most of the staff were. He was always found accompanied by his favorite Sphynx cat, Chabiel. The two were inseparable as if the cat was his life support. Mr. Darty was not the only teacher who seemed to have an animal attached to them. Although he was by far, the one with the ugliest. Often, you’d see a mixture of miniature dragons, owls, cats, dogs, and even an occasional Harpy Eagle or Peregrine Falcon. They typically roamed the halls to deliver notes and packages to and fro their owners that the mailroom was too lazy to deliver or be bothered.

This year was a special one. It’s your first year at the Midnight Academy. Time to get away from the non-magical creatures. Muggles as they are called. You loathe your brothers whom you live with. Silence is scarce in that household and luckily, you were the only one who had inherited your mom’s recessive trait of witchcraft. She herself had not had any magic rather, she made up for it by being a very successful business tycoon. Often, you helped her manage some of her gaming companies and you tested them too. Hex Gaming Co. was the creator of some of the world’s most famous games such as Utopia, Weapons of Deception, Deception 2, Undying, and more. All of which were some magical role-playing game that was super addicting and had kids playing it everywhere. If you ever told anyone who your mom was then instant fame. Your dad, on the other hand, was not as famous but he was still a famous musician.

Aside from your brothers, the only person to know about your wealth and parents’ true jobs was your best friend, San. He had inherited magic but he’s also part incubus. You met him when he appeared on your block five summers ago. Fourteen was your current age now and you guys practically live with each other and do everything together. When most people hear that San is part incubus, they stay away because they are afraid of having their dreams visited. But what people didn’t stay to find out that San didn’t find the need to go into people’s dreams. Besides, he only found you slightly attractive, everyone else wasn’t even on the radar. Deep down you know that he might be bi but he will not let you have the satisfaction of being right.

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𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲

San and you entered into the school that is more intimidating the closer you get. The seeming mile-high doorway made you feel small enough already. All the new students were being crowded together to get handed their classes and dorms they were going to stay in. Of course, you will miss your brothers but you got San! You’d prefer that any day. “I hope we get the same dorms. I don’t think I’d be able to live without you.” “Me too, San. Me too.” To say that you weren’t scared for your life was an understatement. Anymore worrying and you’d be dead. Finally, your turn came around to get your scroll. The teacher administering them was undeniably short and part goblin. He had a snaggle tooth that stuck out of the bottom of his mouth and long Yoda like ears that stuck out of his head. Little hairs covered the face, they were minuscule but visible.

“Name.” The voice was gravely and harsh but you still gave him your name. “Here you go.” You took the parchment with shaky hands. San waited for you at the door. “I got Sapphire dorm!” As soon as your face fell, so did his. “I got Emerald dorm.” Emerald dorm has the reputation of some really mean and uptight people. They are usually the richest ones. “No escaping from my money now.” You groaned out. San placed a quick kiss to your cheek. “You got this.” He ignored the stares but you didn’t. Blood rushed towards your cheeks. A slender figure appeared in front of you. You recognized it as the teacher most often seen by the headmaster. Her voice was strong and dominant, perfect for teaching. She was aged like the expensive cheese your mom was forced to eat at business meetings. “ATTENTION! You are to go in and find the table corresponding with the dorm name you got. The headmaster will address you soon.” As you walked in, hand in hand with San, you were taken aback by the busy chatter. Almost immediately, you were pulled away from San and torn to the table decorated in different hues of green.

You know nobody so where to sit was nerve-wracking for you. “You can sit by me.” A hand waved in the air and you saw a boy giving you a cute smile. “Me?” He could be talking to anyone so you wanted to make sure. “Yeah! I’m new too.” With nowhere better to sit, you sat down next to the blond boy. “Hi! I’m Wooyoung and I hope we can be friends!” “I’m ________.” You smiled at him. A voice sounded through the room getting everyone’s attention. “Students. Most of you are coming back from a great year last year and I wish you a welcome. For the new students coming here this year, we all give you a warm welcome and wish you well in the following days to come. Make good friends, learn new things, and most importantly, do great things. I hope that I do not need to interfere with any problems as our teachers will deal with it accordingly. Just know, we will be paying attention.” Wooyoung and you shared a nervous look.

“For now, we feast!” Little fairies delivered the food to the table. Immediately, you recognized them as brownies. They are house fairies that live to clean as love dishes of cream. You loved the brownie that resides at your grandparents’ house. His name was Hayelam and he was the nicest creature you had ever met. At night when everyone was supposed to be asleep, you’d sneak out and leave a bowl of warm cream on the counter. It was a ritual and you couldn’t go to sleep without doing it. Maybe you could sneak some for them. Without thinking, you grabbed some cream. “Are you going to make whipped cream for this delicious pecan pie?” Wooyoung asked, causing you to look at him. “Ah no, habit. I’m going to heat it up somehow for the brownies.” “Brownies? Where?” You giggled at Wooyoung looking for actual brownies. “The house-elves silly. They love warm cream.”

Taking out your wand, you attempted to do a simple heat spell but it didn’t work. Neither did the next six tries. “Let me try.” How would he be able to do it? You watched in amazement as the metal bowl in his hands turned a soft red causing the cream to simmer a little. “Woah!” The cream was still hot when he set it down onto the table. “I’m a descendent of a fire fairy.” “I guess you could say that you’re hot.” Normally, San would give you a dirty look for your puns but Wooyoung loved it. Although he was laughing, he was dying inside from embarrassment. “Let’s dig in!” You exclaimed, grabbing a turkey leg and taking a bite. San laughed at you from afar glad that you found someone to talk to. Don’t forget about me. Get out of my head, San. Looking up, you caught him pouting but after you gave him a smile, he cheered up.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“Mr.Song, would you be so kind as to answer this question on the board?” Your red-haired classmate stayed visibly slumped in his seat. He wasn’t the only one confused, you watched as Wooyoung got confused as well. Discreetly, you waved your wand and watched as the answer appeared on your seatmate’s notebook. Thank god that he saw it appear and reworded it. “In a sense, if you added blisterwort instead of chorus eggs then you would essentially get a toxic hair remover. Extremely dangerous if taken in as it acts as a poison as well. The victim would be dead within minutes.” “Very good, Mingi.” The teacher turned and continued on with her endless lecture. “Thank you,” Mingi whispered. “You’re welcome!” Your hushed voices caught the teacher’s attention and she was now standing in front of you. “What are you saying you’re welcome for?” Once again, Mingi froze up, you, on the other hand, were used to this pressure.

Thinking quickly of a lie, you responded calmly. “My seatmate asked me to help him with the things he doesn’t understand.” “Hmmm, all right. No more talking in my class.” The bell rang and the hallway became overfilled. “Wait up!” A hand on your shoulder made you jump. You turned and saw Mingi. He was taller than you thought, around 6’0. “Can you actually tutor me in alchemy?” “Sure. The defense room is empty around six.” He smiled and nodded. A different, smaller hand appeared on your shoulder except for this time, you recognized this hand. “San!” You were quick to hug him tight. “We have the next class together so I wanted to see if you wanted to walk with me and meet my new friend.” Playfully, you pinched him and pouted. “You’ve already replaced me?” “YOU REPLACED ME FIRST,” he whined. Mingi, who was still there, cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, San, this is Mingi, my classmate and friend. Mingi, this is San, my bestest friend in the entire world.

“What about me? I thought I was your bestest friend in the entire world and he was your BFF.” You giggled as you watched Wooyoung walk up still whining and complaining about your rejection. “Woo, of course, I love you. You two are my bestest friends in the whole wide world.” Once you introduced the two, Mingi went on his way while you, San, Wooyoung, and San’s friend whom you later learned was named Seonghwa, walked towards class. You watched as San waved bye to his newfound friend before walking into class with him and Wooyoung. In the middle of class, you watched as a 2nd-year student came in to get the teacher to break up a fight. “MR.OIEK! YEOSANG AND TJUM ARE FIGHTING RIGHT NOW.” “Lead the way, Hongjoong.” The class rushed towards the windows where there was a clear view of the courtyard.

Unfortunately, you got pushed out of the door during the madness and fell right into one of the boys. For a moment, the boys stopped and stared at you which let the teacher neutralize them. “Why are you out here Miss.____?” “I-I got pushed. Sorry, sir.” You hung your head in shame, not wanting to look into his intimidating eyes. Ignoring the pain in your wrist or the odd warm feeling on your lip, you stood up. “Yeosang, I trust that as a 2nd year you can show her to the nurse’s office.” “Yes sir.” When you started to protest, the boy gave you a look, the one your brothers gave you when you should shut up. Sighing, both of you started trekking towards the nurse’s office well aware of the fact that you’ll be missing the next class too. With Yeosang leading the way, you couldn’t help but take in his figure from behind.

“Right in here.” “I’m fine, I really don’t know why you are taking me to the nurse.” The look on Yeosang’s face made you question if you were losing your mind. “You are bleeding from a cut on your face and your wrist is sprained.” If that wasn’t convincing enough, the nurse told you the same thing. There wasn’t much she could do quickly so she gave you a concoction of herbs to help heal you. “Wait here for a few minutes so it can start working.” You nodded and watched as the old woman sauntered away, mahogany robes swishing with each step. As soon as the door shut, you turned to Yeosang who was forced to stay with you. He was entranced by something outside of the window, a bird perhaps. His features were vague but what stood out to you was a birthmark adorning his left eye. Your gaze traveled down his body, crossing over his arms and his black robe with a sapphire blue trim and down further. Underneath the undone robe, you caught sight of the pressed button-up with the top two undone showing the perfect amount of collarbone.

His gaze flickered towards you and you looked at your feet, avoiding the blush of the fact that he caught you when you were checking him out. “I saw that, you just checked me out.” A meek sorry was all that you could manage, your face ten times redder now that he called you out. Luck was on your side, the nurse returned and assessed the healing. She warned you not to strain your wrist too much until tomorrow. You agreed and followed Yeosang back to where lunch was being held. All through lunch, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the older boy and you completely ignored what Wooyoung was saying. It wasn’t until Yeosang caught your eye that you looked away, nodding to whatever Wooyoung was saying. You still threw him glances and at one point, you swore you saw him smile. Or smirk. Either way, you finally focused on Wooyoung and whatever he was saying.

Lunch ended and it was time for the next lesson. Fighting. For some reason, the school decided to do second years and first years together, something about the experience. The teacher, short and balding, partnering you up with a short boy, definitely a second year, about two inches taller. His casual laid back posture made him look superior despite the fact that you won every sparing round. “Petrificus Totalus!” You flicked your wand before he could blink and once again, he found himself bound, unable to move. “Very good work, Miss._____!” The boy, whom you later learned was named Hongjoong, congratulated you on doing well while pouting. You thought it was absolutely cute. The bell rang and you stayed behind. There was still a few hours before dinner and Mingi was supposed to meet you. A tall figure emerged behind you and then another.

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend.” “Do they need tutoring too?” Mingi shook his head. “Great work at fighting today, Hongjoong couldn’t even raise his wand.” Mingi’s friend, who was as tall as him if not taller, sported black robes with an emerald green trim. Same as yours and you can’t fathom how you missed someone as tall as him roaming around the dorm. “I’m Yunho by the way.” His cute smile gave you puppy vibes and you forced the instinct to cuddle him away. Mingi introduced you quickly to move on through to alchemy. You couldn’t help but giggle when his potion failed and he screamed at it. “I DID YOU RIGHT! YOU JUST DON'T LIKE ME, DO YOU?” Eventually, you found yourself rolling on the floor laughing when Yunho had put a silencing hex on Mingi. Mingi continued to scream but nothing came out. “You only get your voice returned when you get a kiss on the cheek.” Mingi sheepishly looked at you and leaned closer. “Yunho…” He laughed and ended the hex. Mingi was taken aback at first but ultimately ended up laughing along. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Year two

Grey clouds rolled overhead signaling the start of another gloomy season. You, San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, and Hongjoong trudged towards the train car that was to take you back to the academy. Surprisingly enough, you realized that the boys didn’t live that far from you. As summer rolled along, you and the six boys grew closer and of course, your brothers liked them too. Yeosang, you found, should’ve been in the emerald dorm but something got screwed up in the housing situation. The rumor got around that he was being switched back to the correct dorm though only time will tell. Although, it would be quite awkward. The seven of you were confused to find someone in your car already. A boy of a stronger build and brown hair sat by the window staring out of it. “Hello?” His head snapped towards you. “I’m sorry, am I in your area?” He was new, you could feel it, the newbie energy radiating off of him. You knew the others could too. “It’s okay! You can sit with us. I mean you’re new aren’t you?” Gosh, you love how kind Wooyoung is. He’s so sweet, you are surprised you don’t have a cavity. “Y-Yeah.” As you all settled in, the boy introduced himself as Jongho.

We introduced ourselves and soon got lost in laughter and conversation. “Did you see the new Deception: End Of Time game is coming out tomorrow?” Wooyoung asked. An abundance of yeahs and can’t waits filled the car in agreement. “You’ll love it. I did.” The boys looked at you in confusion. San laughed and nudged you. These people didn’t know you were one of the testers of the game let alone the daughter of the creator. “My mom runs that company and created those games. I test them out.” “You have to convince her to let us test some out too.” You giggled at Jongho’s enthusiasm. “Maybe during spring break. I know mom is working on a big game.” They cheered quietly. San a little more considering he’s done it before and knows the excitement of giving suggestions. It was also a bonus when the character he creates in the test is a character that gets added to the game and is already situated to his stats.

The ride to the school felt short. Jongho proved to be a perfect fit for your friend group. He sank back at the intensity of the school but you and your friends ushered him forwards. “Don’t worry! You’re only alone until they give you a dorm and there is at least one of us in each dorm.” The first year smiled and watched as you guys sat at your respected tables. It wasn’t that long of a wait considering his surname was a C. He quickly found that he got ruby dorm. It turns out for you that Yeosang and Yunho got mixed up therefore Yunho was with San and Yeosang got transferred into his rightful dorm. The headmaster made his welcoming speech before launching into an apology. “I’d like to wish a formal apology towards two-third years. I humbly ask for you to see this as a way to make new friends.”

You glanced over at Yeosang getting surrounded by a bunch of people welcoming him into the emerald dorm. His face looked panicked, clear that he was not used to all this attention. Wooyoung seemed to notice it too and felt for his hyung. “Yeosang, hyung! You can sit with us if you want.” He looked at the two of you, happy, ecstatic to see two faces he knew. A year ago, if someone would’ve told you that you’d be sitting with Kang Yeosang, you’d have laughed in their face. But here you are now, sitting face to face with the boy. His eyes met yours and you fell into a trance. “Earth to ______!” “Sorry, what were you saying?” Wooyoung repeated his words once again, not even bothered that you had zoned out once more. The bell rang and you jumped up, ready to head to the dorms, forgetting the tradition you and Wooyoung did every day last year. “Are we not going to heat up some cream for the brownies?” You turned and nodded sheepishly while grabbing a bowl of cream someone had left. Yeosang watched in amazement as Wooyoung's hands caused the liquid to bubble.

The following weeks of school consisted of review and having awkward run-ins with Yeosang. It wasn’t until your professor introduced teleportation to you that things got started. All second years had to learn how to use their magic and teleport from one place to another. And with most people, you initially aren’t the greatest when you start to learn something. For the next few days, you’ve practiced and practiced, only teleporting to the common room and back to your room. Unfortunately, the following day, you were going to be tested on your skills, and frankly, you could barely even make it out of your bedroom. This is how you found yourself at two in the morning on the roof of the mailroom trying to teleport from one end to the other.

You closed your eyes and imagined the other side and muttered some hopeful words that this would actually work. A quiet pop sounded and you opened your eyes to complete darkness. Trying to find your way out of wherever you were, you blindly walked around only stopping when you hit your ankle on something metal. The surface you fell on was a mix between hard and soft. A pained groan emitted from behind you causing you to let out a few choice words. In the midst of the rant, a light turned on and you caught Yeosang’s brown eyes boring into yours. “Well, this is most definitely not where I wanted to teleport, sorry for appearing in your bed at 2 in the morning.” The words lingered in the air and neither one of you moved. Maybe you should just give up and fail the test.

A sigh left Yeosang’s lips and he grabbed his wand. You watched curiously as he stood up and took a place beside you. “Hold my hand.” “H-Hold your what?” His hand grabbed yours and you felt the familiar swirly feeling that you got when you teleported. A cold breeze brushed your cheeks and you shivered realizing that you were back outside. “Why did you bring me here?” This was the first time, you actually went into the gym despite this being your second year. “I’ve been hearing from Wooyoung that you have a test tomorrow and I…I wanted to help you learn to teleport.” You wanted to hold Yeosang and treasure him forever but that would be quite awkward. “Okay then. What are we waiting for?”

Turns out that either you’re a great teleporter or Yeosang is a great teacher. You opted for Yeosang though because without him, you would’ve failed. In fact, you actually aced your test. The first one since the best friend test that you did with San in first grade. When the students were to return to the dorm, you waited excitedly with the little slip of paper in your hand. For the first time, Yeosang was late back to the dorm. He found you asleep on the couch beside Wooyoung who was doing his homework. “Hey, hyung!” “Hi, Wooyoung. Why is she asleep?” He asked, pointing to your form. “She wanted to show you that she aced her test and she waited and waited for you. I came out to keep her company but she fell asleep.” Yeosang carried you to your room and tucked you into your bed. He left a note with one of the post-its that he found on your desk along with your unfinished homework. He’ll apologize tomorrow for leaving you waiting for so long.

The knock on your door woke you up. When you opened your eyes, you saw the sunlight peeping in through the cloudy windows. “Rise and shine, angel. It’s almost time for class.” Shoot. Class. You rushed to get dressed only stopping momentarily to read the note attached to your now finished homework. ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I had some things I had to do. Meet me on the rooftop tonight at midnight so we can celebrate your success. -Yeosang’ You shoved the paper and the note in your bag before running out to the common room. “Come on Woo! We’re going to be late for class.” You two rushed to the Alchemy classroom and took your assigned seats. A smile formed on your face as you saw your seatmate had already made it there. “Good morning, Sannie!” “Morning, Sunshine.” He smiled at your chirpiness and returned his attention to the homework he was rushing to finish.

The day buzzed by and midnight arrived quickly. Quietly, you teleported to the roof and saw Yeosang already sitting on the edge. “Such a pretty moon, isn’t it?” His question caught you off guard. Had he heard you arriving. “Yes, I suppose so.” “So I heard you aced your test for the first time. Glad I could help.” You took a seat next to him and sighed, watching your breath form a cloud in the chilly air. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped me.” “I want to make a deal. For each test you ace, I’ll tell you something about me.” Yeosang is a mysterious person and plus you had so many questions about him. Why is he in the Emerald dorm? Favourite food? Cats or dogs? Why go to the academy? Why teach you? “For your first test, I’ll tell you what everyone wants to know. How am I in the ‘rich’ people dorm?”

He told you how his dad was a very famous doctor and his mother was a famous chef. His deal made you ace all your tests-with help from him of course- for the rest of the school year. By the time summer rolled around, you practically knew his entire life story, like how he loves the colors red and black or how much he treasures his drones. You knew that he vents by riding a skate board and he loves to play your mom’s videogames. His reaction was just like the other’s when you told him who your mom was. Yeosang demanded -more like pleaded but he won’t admit that- to meet your mom and praise her for her games. When you introduced him to the guys, they all welcomed him with open arms aside from Hongjoong and Seonghwa who were previously friends with him already.

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You walked around blindly, only stopping when you hit your ankle on something metal. The surface you fell on was a mix between hard and soft. A pained groan emitted from behind you causing you to let out a few choice words. In the midst of the rant, a light turned on and you caught Yeosang’s brown eyes boring into yours. “Well, this is most definitely not where I wanted to teleport, sorry for appearing in your bed at 2 in the morning.” The words lingered in the air and neither one of you moved. Maybe you should just give up and fail the test.

------------------------------------------------------------

𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

Everything was the same as last summer except this time, Yeosang was involved. The same playful banters and video games nights proceeded as normal. The adventures and park dates continued. To them, Yeosang was just another family member, not an outsider. Everything was the same down to a T. The ten of you gathered on the train once again to head to yet another year at the academy. For you, it was the third year of your life but for the older three, it was the beginning of their last year at the academy. Four years is the total amount of schooling needed to be deemed okay enough to use magic on the streets. Although, some students head onto university to further their magic education or regular education depending on who you ask. If you asked your mom, she’d say something along the lines of it’s not her place but four years is way too short.

The dorm rooms were the same as usual, clean and tiny. It almost feels like home. You sighed and sat your bags on the bed and headed to the common room to spend some time with Wooyoung. When you got downstairs, he was sitting there staring at the fire. “Hey, Woo! Long time no see.” You joked around. He smiled and tackled you in a hug. “You saw me thirty minutes ago but it does feel like forever.” He squeezed you extra tight before letting go and returning to his original seat. He patted the seat indicating that he wanted you to sit so you did. The seat was slightly warmed by the heat of the fire. It was cozy and swallowed you into the cushion. “Wooyoung?” He hummed and turned his head towards, signaling that you had his attention. “What’s going to happen to the friend group now? I mean it’s Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Yeosang’s last year. Next year Mingi, San, you and I are graduating. And, Jongho will be last. I’m scared, Woo. I don’t want to lose us.”

His eyes softened and he ran his fingers through his hair which showcased his sad eyes. It was evident, he didn’t want to lose you and the guys either. Unbeknownst to you, from the staircase, Yeosang was heartbroken and his eyes threatening to spill tears. Before he came to this school, he was a nobody. A quiet kid who was good at school and had anxiety. He couldn’t make friends, it was impossible. Yeosang couldn’t stop embarrassing himself in front of his classmates. He had told you all this already after you aced your transformation test at the very end of the year. Your words on that night will forever play in his head as a way of remembering that he could make friends who loved him. “Yeosang-ah. I want you to know that if you ever need a friend, just call me and I’ll be there.” No way could he let you guys go. Back in reality, you cried silently into Wooyoung’s sweater. Yeosang had to control his own emotions before helping you, besides, Wooyoung looked like he was doing a good job.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You hated Yeosang. You hated that he had you putty in his hands but was completely oblivious to it. Either you were going to confess or you were going to die. Those are your only two options until you told San and he suggested using a love potion. It seemed like a good idea at first but it soon became a fiasco. Neither one of you knew how to make a love potion, that was advanced stuff. Something Yunho would know. This is how you found yourself in the kitchen baking a ‘Love Cupcake” as the boys called it. “I don’t know if I’d be scared or honoured if a girl slipped me a love potion.” San pondered out loud to no one in particular. “I’d be scared.” “Yunho, you aren’t helping my mind.” He smiled and let out a quick ah as if he was going to say something. “This is the perfect thing for Yeosang. I’m tired of seeing you go for an oblivious idiot.”

The cupcake turned out messy and San ended up wearing more than half the icing due to a wrong cut to the tip of the bag. But all in all, you were pretty impressed with the look of the sweet pastry. The yellow cake topped with the light red icing was placed on a paper plate. You carefully held it and met up with the rest of the boys in the courtyard. “Yeosang! I have this for you. As a thank you.” Yeosang grabbed the cupcake and took a bite. He hummed in delight and watched you throw away the plate. “This is delicious. Thank you.” According to Yunho, once the item containing the potion is consumed, it will take up to twenty-four hours for it to set in. You mustered up the most innocent smile you could form. Now, you wait.

𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 passed and Yeosang was still acting the same as usual. No compliments, no flirting, no heart eyes. Maybe the potion was incorrect. Not possible, Yunho aced that class. Maybe, it didn’t work. It doesn’t hurt to ask the ‘Potion Master’ if something went wrong. “Three days passed and he’s still acting the same. Is it possible that it failed?” “No way. I’ve seen this work before. There’s no chance for it to go wrong.” Now you were forced to confess. Well, eventually. You turned to go back to your dorm to vent to your diary. “Hey, _____!” That smooth, deep voice set you off. You turned towards Yeosang and stomped up to him. “You-“ you forcefully poked him in the chest. “I slipped you a love potion but what the hell? You’re not even acting different.” You threw your hands up in the air in defeat at his confused look.

“Maybe, if you used your brain, you would’ve noticed a lot sooner that I like you.” Yeosang towered over you and watched as you stood in place dumbfounded. “Close your mouth princess, you’ll catch bugs.” “Y-You like me? Like, like like?” At this point, Yeosang was fed up with your obliviousness as hypocritical as it seems. “If it weren’t against the rules, I’d kiss you.” “Screw the rules!” The boys were cheering as you and Yeosang snuck a quick kiss. “Meet me on the roof tonight for our first date.” A smile appeared on your face and suddenly, you couldn’t wait for midnight to roll around. As excited you were for the night, it seems like mother time had other plans. The seconds seemed to pass by slow, almost as if each tick was an hour itself. Finally, midnight rolled around and you teleported to the roof to find Yeosang sitting on a blanket surrounded by a bunch of food. What a perfect first date for you.

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jewishzevran · 5 years ago

Text

this heart is starting to come to life

So earlier this week, @cullenvhenan posted this about her inquisitor immy lavellan and cullen in a modern au setting, and i couldn’t stop my little goblin hands from writing it. i had to keep putting my head on my desk and take deep breaths because they love each other so much and they just don’t realise yet buhuhu ;____;

Cullen groaned, and dropped his head against his steering wheel, wishing the ground had swallowed him up on the walk from the restaurant to his car.

What a fucking disaster.

She had been nice. She was pretty. She was interested in his hobbies, and had been respectful about avoiding the topic of war. Yet, by the end of the meal, he somehow felt even lonelier than when he had sat down. It had been two years since he had left Eliza and that whole Maker-forsaken mess behind, but she was still finding ways to ruin his night.

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. At least he had a couple of days off.

The drive back to the apartment block was, thankfully, uneventful, and he pulled into his usual space feeling marginally less shit than he had done 15 minutes prior. Nodding to the security guard at the door, he checked the mail and then headed up the stairs. He'd go for a run with Mushy to clear his head, and hopefully tire himself out enough that he didn't spend six hours staring at the ceiling.

There was no familiar barking or tail wagging at the door when he stepped inside, and he frowned for a moment, wondering where Mushy had got to before he heard whining and sniffling from the lounge. Cullen took off his shoes and padded gently towards the source of the noise; when he pushed open the door his heart sank, because Mushy was sat in front of the couch whining and pawing at Immy, who was curled up on on it, knees pulled right against her chest and her face buried in her lap while she cried.

"Hey, hey, hey, Immy…" He said, walking quickly to the couch and crouching beside it, gently resting a hand on her leg. "What on earth is wrong?"

She started at his voice and her head snapped up, but she relaxed and sighed when she registered who he was.

"Oh, Cullen." She said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I didn't hear you come in."

Cullen shifted to sit next to her on the sofa, still looking at her with deep concern. He waited patiently for her to take several deep breaths, and felt around blindly for the box of tissues that he knew was on the coffee table. Mushy boofed quietly and nudged them into his hand.

"It's my boss. Again." Immy finally said, wrinkling her nose and yanking a tissue from the box angrily. "Do you know how much work I've actually done in the lab this whole week? Ten minutes. Ten! He treats all of us like children, talking slowly when he explains the most basic alchemical concepts like none of us have degrees or training. I filled out my own appraisal today, Cullen, because he told me he couldn't be bothered. It's humiliating. We're fucking miserable, and all I ever hear is how lucky I am to work for such an esteemed alchemist." She rolled her eyes at the last two words, flopping back against the cushions. "I want to quit. I should quit. But I have bills to pay, and lab work is so much easier to find when you're already working in one, and it took me so long to find this one, and I…" She trailed off, looking at Cullen and biting her lip as her eyes filled with fresh tears. "I'm scared."

"I understand," he said, rubbing her leg soothingly. "It's okay to be scared. And it's okay to be angry. He treats you terribly and I wish there was something I could do to help."

Immy smiled gratefully, scratching Mushy's ears absent-mindedly. "Thanks, Cullen." There was a pause where they lapsed into comfortable silence, before Cullen had an idea.

"Come on," he said, smiling and getting to his feet, holding a hand out to Immy. "Let's go to the corner shop. You need ice cream."

Immy raised an eyebrow. "You're the one always telling me off for eating dairy." She adopted a mockingly serious expression and lowered her voice into a terrible impression of his own. "You're lactose-intolerant, Imryll! Stop eating cheese, Imryll! Why have you got a milkshake, Imryll? You'll only make yourself feel worse later on!"

Cullen chuckled and rolled his eyes. "It's an emergency. I'll let it slide. Now come on."

Immy grinned and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “Fine. But you’re paying, and we get to buy treats for Mushy.”

The sun was just dipping behind the roofs as they stepped onto the pavement, and Cullen found himself enjoying the short walk to the shop. He and Immy were content in silence, and he watched as she hopped from paving stone to paving stone, skipping and twirling round lamp posts, dancing to music only she could hear. It was nice to see her like this for once; she spent so long working, and the rest of the time stressing about that work, that seeing her be herself was a rare sight these days. It was a welcome change.

Cullen watched her in the store too, chatting happily to the clerk, who knew them well by now, smiling warmly as they both entered. She picked out ice cream, and managed to convince him to let her get two tubs, though both of them knew it wasn’t a hard sell. She snuck extra treats for Mushy onto the counter too, which Cullen pretended not to see, and Immy pretended were a total surprise to find in the bag.

When she sank onto the couch, Cullen retrieved her favourite stuffed toy, and the pink fleece blanket that sat on the bottom of her bed, and tucked her in. She tried to protest but Cullen just raised an eyebrow, which, accompanied by a boof and tail wag from Mushy, was more than enough for her to relent.

Five minutes later, they were settled in their usual position: Immy snuggled into one corner, legs stretched out, feet in Cullen’s lap, with Mushy curled up under Cullen’s arm on the other side. Immy tucked into her ice cream happily and raised an eyebrow skeptically when Cullen picked out their entertainment for the evening.

“A chess documentary?”

“What?” He replied defensively. "It’s informative, on a subject I like, and not nearly complicated enough to require our full attention.”

“Fine.” She said reluctantly, nudging him with her foot. “You’re lucky I like you, Cullen.”

He chuckled. “So you keep reminding me.”

It was about another half an hour later when Immy suddenly sat up, eyes wide. “Oh!” She said around a mouthful of dessert. “I completely forgot! How was your date?”

Cullen groaned in response.

“That bad, huh?”

“It was… fine.”

“Buuuuut?” Immy encouraged, and Cullen sighed.

“But it was just fine. It was… boring, really.”

“No spark?”

Cullen shook his head. “Nothing. She was nice and pretty and I barely remember anything we talked about. And the worst part is, I think I knew it would be like that before I arrived. I’m not even sure why I agreed to meet her in the first place.”

That part was a lie. He did know, but he couldn’t bear to admit it to Immy. He already felt pathetic, he didn’t want her to pity him on top of everything else.

She smiled at him sympathetically. “Hey. It happens. At least it was forgettable as opposed to disastrous.”

“Well, there is that.”

“You know, like that time you went to Joe’s Bar, and-”

“Yes, thank you, Immy.” Cullen said, blushing furiously and glowering at her. “You know I swear the reason no one has forgotten that is because you keep bringing it up.”

Immy grinned. “Who? Me? Never.”

It should have annoyed him, but for some reason, he just rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly. “You’re impossible, sometimes.”

“Look, someone has to keep you interesting, Mr ‘I-Watch-Chess-Documentaries-For-Fun’”

“Hey, you were getting really into it before you decided to bring up my shambles of a love life!”

Immy just stuck her tongue out, and took another large spoonful of ice cream.

They watched the rest of the documentary, then Immy found some ridiculous foreign drama to watch that Cullen had never heard of, and they ordered take-out. The next several hours were mostly spent laughing. Immy stole his glasses to do a terrible impression of him sat at his date, and he helped her brainstorm outlandish scenarios in which her boss would get his comeuppance, and she would be appointed head of the lab and given crown funding from the King to do whatever research she fancied, and make dairy-free ice cream that didn’t taste like garbage. Mushy posed several interesting ideas, which Immy listened to intently and rewarded him with treats for, agreeing with everything and pretending to take notes. They shared food from each other’s plates and Cullen gave her the spare dumpling in the serving of five, because he knew it would get him a smile.

It did, and her eyes crinkled with delight as he insisted she take it, and his heart definitely didn’t speed up when he noticed her dimples, or how endearing they were. He didn’t see them very often, but whenever he did, it was a smile that lit up her whole face, making her eyes sparkle.

“It’s okay, you know,” she said quietly during a period of silence. “That you’re struggling. With dating, I mean.”

Cullen sighed and closed his eyes, putting his food down on the table. “It’s been two years, Immy.”

“That’s not that long.” She shifted position, rotating to lean against his shoulder, tucking her legs up underneath her.

“Isn’t it?”

“Not after what happened, absolutely not.” Her hand came to rest on his knee. “Stuff like that takes time to get over.”

Cullen felt his jaw tighten. “But I-”

“But nothing, Cullen,” Immy said, lifting her head and turning to look at him. “You’ve been through a lot of shit. You wouldn’t say the same things to me, would you? That I was taking too much time to recover or that my progress was meaningless?”

He wanted to disagree, but she was right. He would never say those things to her. But she was kind, and passionate, and she spread light wherever she went, and he was just… him. He turned to meet her gaze, and she was looking at him with such a fierce intensity it momentarily stole his breath away.

“Be kinder to yourself, Cullen.” She said, quietly. “You deserve it.”

"Thank you," he said, his mouth suddenly dry as sandpaper, "for listening to me. It… helps." She was so close he could count each individual freckle on her face if he wanted, a canvas of constellations he suddenly longed to chart.

"I'll always listen," she replied. "You're my friend, Cullen."

The silence that followed only lasted a few seconds, but it might as well have been a millennia. Cullen's eyes flicked to Immy's lips, and it felt as if the entire world was holding its breath. His pulse thudded in his ears. How had he never noticed how nice her lips were before?

A police siren wailed outside, and Cullen cleared his throat, pulling away and rubbing the back of his neck, feeling heat creeping up his face. "Yes. Well. I'm glad. You're mine too. My friend, I mean."

Immy was blushing as well, looking pointedly at anything that wasn't him, and he seized the opportunity to disappear before he embarrassed himself further.

"I'm going to. Um. Go for a run. Take Mushy. It'll help me sleep. Okay. Cool." He stood up from the sofa like it had burned him and nearly power walked into his room, closing the door far too loudly. He leant against it and slid down until he was sat on the floor, groaning loudly and banging his head against the wood. He could still smell her hair. It would have been so easy to reach out, to tangle his fingers in those beautiful, thick, black curls and press his lips against hers—

Oh.

Oh no.

He was fucked.

#cullen x lavellan #cullen x inquisitor #cullen rutherford #inquisitor lavellan #ash writes #cullen x imryll

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years ago

Link

Dreaming While I Wake

Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery

Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).

Words: 3,263 Warnings: Food, Food Insecurity Mention, Forcing Self to Eat Something Mention, Negative Self-Talk, Negative Self-Image, Video Game Violence, Dogs Characters: Roman, Thomas Universe: Dreaming While I Wake Genre: Vibing™ too hard and a bit of angst, as a treat

Chapter 24

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

Roman kicked off his shoes at the foot of his bed and dropped his backpack next to his desk. He was tired, what’s new. His feet finally hurt less, at least. He was also immensely grateful to say that for once he didn’t have to spend all night on homework. He had something due at the end of the week, but he didn’t have to do it tonight. He was terrible at starting homework early anyway, so there was no point in trying today.

Part of him was glad that the Sanders didn’t kick him back so he wouldn’t have to be doing this all over again at a new school. He’d only had two families that returned right away, but he did much less awful shit at their houses than he did here. It only made sense that they would send him away, but he didn’t mind still being here. They’d probably see reason eventually, so Roman shouldn’t get his hopes up or anything.

A snack and breaking out the art supplies sounded like a pleasant way to pass the time. He’d sketched something he really liked in English, and he wanted to give it a proper go and not on thin notebook paper. The coffee table was glass, so he could transfer it to his sketchbook with that. He gathered the supplies he needed and headed back downstairs, dropping off the stuff on the coffee table and heading into the kitchen for a bite to eat.

The pantry didn’t really reveal anything appetizing. He’d had mostly chips after school lately so he didn’t want those, and they’d long since finished those peanut butter filled pretzels much to Roman’s dismay. Roman scanned the fridge and freezer. He could have a healthy snack of an apple or something… or he could make some of those biscuits made entirely out of cheese they had with dinner last night and dip them in pizza sauce. The answer was obvious. He pulled out the cheese biscuits and lined them up on parchment paper in the toaster oven on the counter. He cooked a few extras in case a wild Virgil appeared. He seemed to have junk food sensing powers.

Roman went to the coffee table to clear off some space to use it. The more he removed, the more it revealed it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. Spills and fingerprints would mess with his ability to use the table as a lightbox, so he grabbed the glass cleaner and a rag to clean it off. After cleaning both sides of the coffee table, he noticed the other glass in the living room was a little smudged up. The cabinet windows on the entertainment center had doggy nose prints on the lower parts, along with the windows. He already had it in his hands, so why not? Roman passed through and cleaned up all the glass in the living area, the mirror in the front hall, the microwave and stove door, and the window in the kitchen.

The toaster oven dinged and distracted him from cleaning off the front of the dishwasher. He had completely forgotten he’d put those in. Roman wiped the last corner of the dishwasher and washed the ammonia off his hands, leaving the cleaner and rag on the counter. He grabbed a plate and served himself half of the biscuits and dumped a little pizza sauce from the jar on his plate. Some part of his mind registered that they were fresh out of the toaster oven, but he picked one up to dip like an idiot and burned his fingers, anyway.

Roman grumbled while he ran his fingertips under cold water at the sink. He pulled them out to check if they were better yet, but they were still hot, so he kept them under the water a little longer. Virgil appeared as expected, which cheered Roman back up a bit. The idea of Virgil having junk food senses was funny, and he loved it when Virgil proved him right.

“I made you some, too,” Roman motioned with his head to the toaster oven. Virgil grinned wildly and just stole Roman’s plate and left the kitchen. Roman laughed out loud at the audacity of this bitch and shook his head. He pulled his fingers out again, and they felt fine now, so he served himself the other half in the same manner. He had the good sense to get a fork this time. He threw out the parchment paper and sat at the table, pulling out his phone to wait for his food to cool down. He saw the date and realized he probably needed to do laundry, so he got up to head upstairs and grab his basket.

He long since hasn’t needed to sort out his clothes into loads. His brights and darks were already all faded, and he only had a few whites, not enough to do a load with bleach. He just dumped the entire basket in the wash and put in some laundry sauce, starting the wash and bringing the basket back upstairs.

Roman stared around his room, not remembering what he was doing last. He paused and concerned if there was anything he needed to do. Probably clean his bedroom? There wasn’t much to pick up, just a few art supplies were out for some reason. He didn’t have that many things in his name to mess up. His loose stuff like old keepsakes or hobby items all fit in one drawer in the dresser, so it was easy to keep clean. But he should come back up to wipe off his desk with an all-purpose cleaner and dust. Roman yawned and returned downstairs for some water and to grab the cleaners.

He put away the filter pitcher and drank water, noticing his snack on the table. Oh. Roman chuckled to himself and sat down at the table, eating his four cheese biscuits and pizza sauce. He had completely forgotten he made them. They were at an edible temperature now, though. Convenient forgetfulness, for once.

After rinsing the dishes, Roman grabbed the duster and all-purpose cleaner to go handle his room. He dusted some shelves in the living room as he passed, just because he had noticed they were dusty and covered in dog fur. They mentioned they got a maid service once a month for that. How could Lita possibly produce this much wiry fur? Baffling. Roman headed upstairs to clean his bedroom.

Dusting the bookshelf in his room revealed that Lita must not come in here much since there was barely any dog fur on it compared to the downstairs. He was relatively certain Lita just napped in Thomas and Patton’s room until Patton appeared or something fun happened. Roman dusted off the books, his dresser, the desk, and the nightstand, then wiped down surfaces. There were plenty of eraser bits and broken pencil leads after the cluster-fuck of homework he had to do. Cleaning off the homework wreckage and such from the desk made it look much nicer, despite his pile of books and papers he hadn’t quite gotten around to organizing into something nicer looking yet. He organized his colored pencils by the rainbow in the organizer and took the cleaners back downstairs to put away.

What the hell was he doing again? Roman put the cleaners back on the shelf in the laundry room. He swore he was doing something. He had no idea what he was doing. The washer was going, which reminded him he started that. Maybe that was the thing. He clearly still had time to wait, though. Video games? Video games. Roman headed out to the living room and paused to make sure no one else was coming in to use the TV. Virgil didn’t reappear, and Thomas wasn’t even in his office. Seemed safe enough to him. There were quests to be had and demons to slay. Roman switched the TV input and turned on the game system to play, settling down on the floor in front of the TV to kick some lich ass.

Having free afternoons was a weird experience. Weirder than the forced days off, since he was kind of stuck in a room with Thomas for those. But this was totally up to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had so much free time completely to himself. It was… wrong? It felt wrong. But also nice. It was wrrice. No. That was dumb. Whatever. He had an amulet that unlocked a labyrinth. Fuck real life. He made sure he had enough healing items and repaired his armour, absolutely raring to go venture into it.

Something warm pressed into his thigh while he was fighting some goblins and jumped. He paused the game and glanced down. Lita had laid her head on his lap and was looking up to him pleadingly. Roman couldn’t help himself from melting a little and cooing, dropping his controller to scratch her behind her ears. Lita’s tongue bleped out and Roman could have died. He pet her a few times and she got up and trotted over to the back door and stared longingly at Roman. Roman got up to let her outside and followed her out. Lita bolted into the yard and ran it in three loops before stopping to sniff around near the tree in the backyard and used the restroom. She stuck her tongue out and happily cantered back over to the door. Roman headed back in and returned to his game when Lita went to go get some water.

Things in the labyrinth were going well, but they were intense. He went into a room that had a bunch of greater liches in it and he nearly bit the dust fighting them all. He got plenty of potions from the room, but it miffed him that he didn’t get something cool like a weapon or rare item. Single-handedly killing four evil wraiths at the same time should have at least gotten some new boots. He saved and continued forward, anyway.

“Hey, Roman,” He vaguely heard someone say while he was eyeballing a hallway that looked like it might have a trap.

“Hey,” Roman responded automatically. Traps meant the game was protecting something, probably. He was tempted. Roman made sure he healed up and put poison immunity on and headed down the hall. The poison immunity paid off, but he should have done something to resist fire damage since he killed three potions from all the burn damage. He was rewarded with a giant skeleton monster and a better sword, though. Vindication! He saved again and kept going forward.

“Do you want anything for dinner?” Someone asked and Roman chewed on his lip while he thought and killed a small army of evil rats.

“Roast boar would be helpful,” Roman suggested after pondering it for a second. He could use a fortitude boost right now. The rats didn’t do a lot of damage, but it was impossible to dodge them all.

“In the real world, Roman,” The voice sounded bemused. Oh shit. Roman paused the game and rubbed his incredibly dry eyes.

“Sorry,” Roman muttered, wishing for moisture to return to his burning eyes.

“It’s fine,” Thomas sighed and laughed a little. “I can relate, honestly. But I’m just about to cook dinner and want to know if anything sounds good,” He said genially.

“Oh, um, ask Virgil,” Roman supplied and rubbed his face again. When was the last time he blinked and how long were his eyebrows furrowed?

“Is there a reason you’re not wearing the gloves?” Thomas inquired. Roman turned around and saw Thomas leaning over the back of the couch. Roman froze and looked at his ungloved hands. Whoops.

“Uh, I forgot to put them back on, honestly,” Roman replied sheepishly. “I promise I didn’t freak out about anything while they were off, though,” Roman added. Well, maybe he did a little at school, but his arms were untouched, so he must not have panicked badly enough to do any damage. Gym class was stressful again. He hadn’t gotten back grades on his packets and he hadn’t attracted a random bully or anything yet, so things were mostly okay. The people in his morning English class even friended him on twitter. Though he hoped he had implied he took the gloves off more recently than after he got to school in the morning.

“All right. Do you mind putting them back on?” Thomas requested, sounding less peeved and more concerned. Roman nodded hastily and leaned back to get them out of his jeans pocket to slide them on. Thomas sighed with relief. “Just for my own mollification, show me your arms?” Thomas made a twisting motion with his finger. Roman turned around and held them straight out and rotated them for Thomas to see. Thomas smiled and nodded, apparently mollified. “Thanks. I appreciate you putting up with them for me. So, dinner? I already asked Virgil. I want to know if you want anything,” Thomas said pointedly.

“I’ll eat anything, it’s fine,” Roman said dismissively.

“I know you’ll eat anything, but I still don’t know what food you actually like to eat,” Thomas urged, looking inquisitively at Roman.

“I like your cooking. Patton’s is seasoned oddly sometimes, but it’s all been fine,” Roman replied with a small shrug.

“Patton’s cooking used to be significantly worse. I made him take a few cooking classes. He used to think five tablespoons was a reasonable amount of seasoning for anything. The grill incident wasn’t the only time we had to throw food out because we couldn’t eat it,” Thomas responded and shook his head with a light chuckle. Roman stared at Thomas in amazement. Did they actually throw out edible food?

“That… why?” Roman asked incredulously. “That’s… food,” Roman stammered out, completely baffled by this information.

“If it’s too disgusting to eat, then it’s too disgusting to eat,” Thomas raised his eyebrow and said something redundant.

“I can’t… even,” Roman felt like his mind was melted. If it was turned into a charcoal brick by a fireball, that was one thing. But trashing it just because something was seasoned badly? That didn’t make any sense.

“Okay,” Thomas drawled curiously. “Well, is there anything you hate then?” He inquired and motioned towards Roman.

“Um, there are some textures I don’t like, and I’m not a fan of brussel sprouts, but I won’t waste food,” Roman answered him, still feeling really confused.

“We had brussel sprouts last weekend, and you ate some,” Thomas said, furrowing his eyebrows at Roman. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, looking upset.

“I already said I won’t waste food,” Roman repeated and looked curiously at Thomas.

“So say if Patton made peas and there was half a container of pepper flakes in it, you’d eat it?” Thomas posited incredulously, looking at Roman intensely.

“… Yeah?” Roman replied, not following what Roman was trying to get at. It was food. The texture from the flakes sounded awful, but he wouldn’t waste the food.

“You are a braver man than I. Okay, so. No brussel sprouts. What about those textures?” Thomas questioned and drummed his fingers on the couch.

“Oh, uh, how… Gritty stuff and stuff that is mushy when it… shouldn’t be? There are also some things that just sort of… hit my palette weird, but I don’t have any idea how to describe that,” Roman supplied. “It only makes me kind of sick, it’s fine, though,” Roman said, shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t force yourself to eat food that makes you sick, Roman,” Thomas said emphatically and leaned on his arm while he looked a little frustrated.

“I’m not that used to having options, Thomas,” Roman replied blithely and sighed. Even with the Finleys he just made what they bought him, and sometimes there wasn’t enough for him to eat a complete meal. He’d always take what he was given. It was better than starving.

“Kid, I swear every time you open your mouth I feel the need to hug you and tell you that things are going to be okay,” Thomas exhaled hard as he held his head and shook it lightly.

“I’m… sorry?” Roman apologized, not understanding what Thomas was trying to say. He didn’t know how Thomas put up with Roman annoying him all the time.

“It’s not your fault. Is there anything we’ve made you particularly liked?” Thomas asked, running his hand through his hair and seeming a little discouraged. Roman paused for a moment while he waited for a further reaction, but Thomas just exhaled and patiently looked to Thomas for an answer. He didn’t seem as frustrated anymore, and Roman loosened back up.

“That pizza you made was probably my favourite thing,” Roman responded brightly. “The stuffed chicken breasts were fantastic, too,” He added.

“It’s even better if we let the dough rest overnight,” Thomas said temptingly, holding up a finger.

“You’re kidding,” Roman eyed him curiously. He didn’t think he’d ever had pizza as amazing as Thomas’s in his life and he couldn’t comprehend how it could possibly be tastier.

“Nope. How about I make some tonight so we can have it for dinner tomorrow?” Thomas offered with a small smile.

“Show me how!” Roman nearly jumped up right there but caught himself, gripping at the floor.

“Only if you pick what’s for dinner tonight,” Thomas pointed at Roman. Roman chewed his lip. He didn’t know what to choose. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he grabbed one of his fingers nervously. “Too hard?” Thomas asked softly.

“I just don’t want… to pick wrong,” Roman admitted quietly. “What did Virgil say he wanted?” He inquired, hoping for at least a starting point.

“Spicy and crunchy,” Thomas reported. “Picking meals is hard for him, so he usually just gives flavours or something like that. I read that choice paralysis is common with PTSD. Is it the same for you?” Thomas prodded and looked pointedly at Roman. Roman rolled his eyes and sighed. He managed to not say ‘I’m fine’ this time, at least. Maybe it was true for Roman, maybe it wasn’t and he was just dumb.

“I, uh, I am completely blanking, to be honest,” Roman replied impassively, trying to think of dinner. He desperately wanted to learn how to make pizza dough. But he didn’t want to pick wrong.

“Yeah, I assume it would have to be some sides or something. We don’t have the stuff for the things I usually make when he asks for that,” Thomas shrugged, tilting his head to the side.

“Uh, tortilla soup?” Roman suggested. It was the easiest one to make of what he thought of. “I mean, it’s a bit hot for soup, but it’s spicy and crunchy,” He added a little sheepishly. Maybe that was stupid.

“Oh, that’s perfect! I didn’t think of that. We can make that quickly in the pressure cooker, even. We’ll chase it with ice cream to cool down. Pat will be pleased about that, honestly. Save the game and I’ll show you how to make the pizza dough,” Thomas smiled and stood up straight.

Roman nodded rapidly and turned back around to save the game as fast as it would let him. His knee bobbed impatiently while he waited for the saving screen to finish processing. He didn’t know how to bake bread, and pizza dough was probably the coolest place to start. Roman nearly tripped as he rushed into the kitchen after Thomas.

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orichalcum-ore · 4 years ago

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Starved Lion of the Imperial Arena

A short fic about my character Do’saav and her sentence in the imperial arena and her rocky relationship with the thieves’ guild

cw: hunger, blood, brief reference to drugs

Blood.

Blood was all that she could feel.

Blood pumping through every single one of her veins, blood of her opponent splattering against her fur, wetting her claws. Anything else was numbness, survival instincts of a lesser beast.

As she ripped her hands from the elf she saw their last words stifled by the red icor of life she had become so well acquainted with. Do’Saav had won once again.

Anyone with her track record would be thought to be one of the voluntary competitors, a snobby son of a nobleman testing out a sword meant for twice the armsman, an accomplished mage testing their latest staff of fireballs on a miserable gaggle of prisoners. Anyone with her track record was normally free to go.

She was there because someone finally decided to size up the red fury of the west who had the coin purse to put enough men between her and them. She worked with the thieves’ guild, known for being quiet. Her line of work was not so quiet. She extorted people, scared them into minding their own business and letting things lie. She had seldom taken protection money, that’s not how the guild did things in Cyrodiil, but if they refused to show what little kindness they had in their heart and a broken bone wouldn’t do, she’d yank a prized amulet from their neck, maybe grab a candlestick or two on the way out or smash a vase.

This time she had picked the wrong method. A merchant from Vvardenfell had just enough handshakes and second-cousins in the royal court for someone to actually give a shit when he was left with a couple cracked limbs and a bruised shoulder. She was slapped in irons the next day, and she knew as soon as she saw the look on the warden’s face that her stay would be a little longer than usual.

She skulked back to the bloodworks, wiping the paint of her sins off her nose. No matter if it was spilt a second or a year ago the smell made her face curl up into a snarl. It made what social dynamic that was available to her even more of a chore to deal with. The bloodworks would make an awful guildhall. Anyone with more experience than you would spit in your face and call you a worm and anyone with less experience than you would spend their time figuring out your weaknesses.

“Great fight out there Khajiit, a couple more like that and you’ll be walking free in no time!” Said a redguard, former highwayman whose only remaining possession was a rusty axe.

Do’Saav’s nostrils flared as she sighed, healing her wounds in the putrid, oversized basin at the bottom of the steps, “That’s what the last one said.”

The auburn gladiator didn’t speak much, but tried her best to remain sociable at an arm’s length. After a while she understood that anyone here who wasn’t the grey prince was bound to be dead in a week or two. It almost gave rise to a snicker from her, what great lengths necromancers went to speak with the dead when you could do it right here in the heart of the empire.

“So why don’t you ever fight with weapons? Wouldn’t that be easier than going in bare-handed like that?” A peppy Breton asked while stretching between her exercises. It was always much harder for Do’Saav to look past the inevitable death of someone with such youth.

“Khajiit martial art. It is called Claw-Dancing in the common tongue.” She lied.

The Breton was starry-eyed, too innocent to last two more fights, when she’d be matched against a gaggle of sickly prisoners shipped there from Morrowind. They’d tear her apart like malnourished wolves, and then walk the streets they’d be dying on within the same span of time.

“This one thinks you should leave. Really. Join the fighter’s guild, they are always looking for work.”

The Breton put her hands on her hips, it began to disgust Do’Saav how she wore that rainment with pride.

“Not until I prove myself to my father! If I end up anything like you, he’ll just have to give me his heirloom sword when he passes!”

The Khajiit narrowed her eyes and spoke with as much malice as she could muster for such an energetic young woman.

“Your father is a goblin-fucking pig bastard and that sword’s blade has probably been worn to the edge of a butter knife from all the bones of children half your age it has cut through.”

The Breton was at a loss for words, she simply stood there in shock, starting and stopping the first syllable of her retort, before she simply left.

She stood there, barely on one foot leaning against the cleanest patch of bricks she could find. Her empty stomach continues to bother her, keeping her there stirring, unable to doze off. At one point she considered ripping into opponents with her teeth, swallowing what she bit into. Such thoughts were too vile for her, and she knew such discovery would surely have her put to the axe with both her hands bound that time. Her head began to hurt as she saw a stocky Nord in tattered leathers approach her like a wild animal, her lips couldn’t help but form a grin seeing one of the great children of the sky shaking in his boots at a starving prisoner.

“A-are you Doe-Sawf?” The Nord stammered, reaching to his side but his hand past the hilt of the dagger he had sheathed.

She nodded, “This one is. What do you seek of her, meat?” her words had a bite to them.

The dirty blonde pauper swallowed as a drop of sweat formed at his brow, “I-I-I am with the- the thieves’ guild…” the stout man began to choke on the second half of his sentence.

Do’Saav couldn’t help but laugh. It was hoarse, scratchy, disturbing. Her ears perked up in maniacal sarcasm, “Are you- are you here to have Do’Saav pay the blood price…?” She began to descend back into laughter at her terrible and grim joke about the countless slaughters committed by her hands. She wiped a tear from her eye.

As the man returned from his flinch he slowly handed a burlap sack, quickly pulling away as Do’Saav took it. He finally found the courage to finish speaking. “The grey fox… understands you’re being treated unfairly here, because of your association with the guild. He says that he will do whatever it takes to get you out of here without risking your life or freedom at a later date, that he owes it to you…”

The Khajiit was suddenly overcome with a feeling typically found in the eyes of a skooma addict or a pie thief, she looked inside the bag and found a bit of bread and cheese, and nearly bit her hand shoving a morsel into her mouth before remembering she had a visitor. She chewed, swallowed and cleared her throat.

“This one will believe it when she talks to the grey fox face to face about it. That at least is owed in addition to a ticket out.” She shoved the rest of her meal into her maw, grinding and gulping as fast as her body could allow.

The initiate nodded, looking at the floor a moment, seeing the drops of blood that made it down from the ceiling.

“I’m sorry they do not feed you here enough.” This time he was beginning to collect himself.

“Likewise, northman.”

“I overheard what they say about you after I asked and got nothing, besides a few harsh words about the guild…”

The khajiit wondered why the meat was still speaking.

“They talked about how in the past the arena had a pack of lions they would make competitors fight, how they would… starve them so that they’d be desperate to kill and eat whoever they fought.”

She didn’t know whether to be angry or to see this coming, or maybe lie about how she felt, make it seem like a sick game. She was caught off guard enough to be stricken curious.

The Nord spoke softly, as if someone was interested enough to eavesdrop “Do you know what they were calling you…?”

“A lion…?”

He nodded slowly, the fat of his chin squishing against his neck as he did.

“They didn’t even speak as if you were a person.”

The two of them sat there in silence, Do’Saav casually looking through the sack for crumbs.

“I put the cheese in there, hope you… hope you enjoyed it.”

“That was Do’Saav’s favorite part. Thank you northman.”

He nodded again, this time with a bit more urgency, before quickly leaving the bloodworks.

The cat held a crumb between two fingers, holding it up to the light as a weight began to lift itself off her mind.

“Heh. Lion of the Imperial Arena, quite a title for this one.” She dropped the meager speck onto her rough tongue before swallowing it.

“She likes it.”

#oblivion #hero of kvatch #khajiit #TES OC #elder scrolls oc #oblivion fanfiction #elder scrolls fanfiction #tes fanfiction #fic #do’saav

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trvelyans-archive · 5 years ago

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for @goblin-deity, pollux and ortega being cute via text because writing fics that include text conversation is my fave thing ever <3 i hope you enjoy this lovely owen !!!

---

It’s rainy season in Los Diablos, and today is no exception. Occasionally a gust of wind sends the tools on your shelves rattling, and though the sound of you working on your armor drowns out the worst of the noise, it’s hard to ignore the constant flickering of the albeit dim overhead lights and the creaking of your base around you, threatening to collapse underneath the pressure of the wind and rain at any second.

You sit back on your heels with a sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead, and examine your handiwork. It’s been a learning experience to figure out how to repair your own armor – there’s a million different components to consider – but you’re definitely starting to get a better hang of it, and it looks almost just as good as it would if Mortum had done it. You lean down to pick up your wrench again when you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket and you stick a hand inside to fish it out. Of course it’s Ortega, and of course he sent you five messages in a row without realizing how irritating that is. You frown and stand up, opening your phone as you pad towards your workbench, hoisting yourself on top of it as you read.

Ortega: Hey, Pollux, what are you doing tonight?

Lux?

If you’re alive, blink twice.

Sorry, that was supposed to be a joke but you probably won’t find it funny.

Anyway, text me when you get these. I’m trying to be rational but I’m also 50% convinced your lying in a ditch somewhere so… yeah. Give me a call, will you?

You bite your lip, quickly typing out a response you hope will annoy him and hitting send.

You: *you’re

You’re about to put your phone down and get back to work when Ortega replies.

Ortega: Hey :)

You: You’re just going to ignore me correcting your spelling like that?

Ortega: I don’t really care. How are you? Are you okay?

Before you can reply, another couple messages come in. You roll your eyes as you read them, biting back the smile spreading across your face.

Ortega: Love you.

Hope you’ve been doing well.

You: You’re turning into such a romantic.

Ortega from eight years ago wouldn’t believe this with his own eyes.

Ortega: He was a self-absorbed jackass.

You: You’re saying that like you aren’t still a self-absorbed jackass.

Ortega: I like to think I’m less of both, but fair enough, I guess. How are you, really?

You: Busy.

Ortega: Mmmm. I love it when you talk dirty.

You: I’m going to throw my phone into the ocean.

Ortega: No, I was just kidding!

You: What if I did it anyway?

Ortega: :(

You laugh, running a hand through your hair and pulling it out of its ponytail as you tap out another response.

You: I won’t for now. Did you have a reason for annoying me today or were you just bored?

Ortega: Are you ever going to stop being so caustic?

You: Ooo, fancy word. Did you have to look up synonyms for ‘asshole’ to find it, or…

Ortega: That’s not what I meant, and that’s also not what I thought it meant. My aunt said it to my mom a couple weeks ago and I’ve been trying to work it into conversation.

You: You’re hopeless.

Ortega: Hopelessly in love with you, maybe.

Groaning, you consider smashing your phone with a hammer, or perhaps dousing it in acid, but instead decide to give in and play whatever game he’s secretly challenging you to. You’ll get the best of him. You always do.

Most of the time, anyway.

Besides, if you don’t have a phone to text him with, he’ll probably end up tracking you down and kidnap you to his apartment to play board games and eat cheese bread and watch movies. At least talking on the phone staves off his undying desire for quality time a little.

Not that you’re entirely opposed to it, but… you have better things you could be doing. Like right now, for instance. Your villain armor is hanging open in your workshop, begging you to crawl inside and fine-tune the HUD, and instead you’re wiping your fingers on a dirty rag so you don’t get oil on your phone screen when you message Ortega back.

You: Shut up.

Or I’ll throw my phone out.

Ortega: You keep saying that, and yet here you are, still texting me…

You: Do you want me to do it, then?

Ortega: No, of course not.

Sometimes it feels like we talk in circles. We had this conversation already. Let’s move on to another one! :)

What are you doing tonight?

You: Being busy.

Ortega: Creative excuse, I like it.

Seriously, though. You have any plans?

You: Depends who’s asking.

Ortega: ???

You: I know it’s you texting me, idiot. It’s just a thing that people say.

Ortega: Oh, I thought…

Sorry. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Are you going to answer my question?

You: I’m doing nothing tonight.

Ortega: Do you mean actually nothing or nothing you’re going to tell me about?

You: Neither. Both. Get to the point.

Ortega: You should come over.

You keep telling me you’re busy lately, and I get that – well, I don’t, not really, but I pretend to so I don’t piss you off – but I miss you.

I’ll pay for the cab.

You: Have you looked outside, Ortega?

Ortega: I have a change of clothes here at my house with your name on it.

You: I bet you bought the wrong size.

Ortega: I didn’t.

I asked Argent what size she thought you were and got it. They’re PJs, and they’re comfy, I promise. I’m pretty sure they’re silk, but don’t quote me on that.

They have little lightning bolts on them.

I thought you’d look cute wearing them.

;)

You: Don’t tell me you got me fluffy socks too…

Ortega: I was tempted, but you’d probably end up tripping on them.

You: Asshole.

Ortega: I just mean because your feet are so small!

You: Still, asshole.

Ortega: Come on, Pollux. I bet hanging out at my place would be better than doing nothing wherever you are…

(Where are you???)

You: Did you get yourself a pair of matching PJs?

You wait for half a minute before Ortega starts typing again. It’s a picture this time, though, not a text, and even though it’s about as blurry as a picture could be, you can faintly make out the tight lightning-bolt printed shirt he’s wrangled over his shoulders.

What an idiot. What a dork. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst open in your chest and you clear your throat to compose yourself even though he isn’t even around to notice.

Asshole.

You: You just put mine on, didn’t you?

Ortega: Maybe. I’ll wear the top, you wear the bottoms. Sound like a plan?

You: You’re not going to convince me that easy.

Ortega: Okay, fine. You wear the top, I’ll wear the bottoms. Or I’ll wear none. Or we can both wear none. Is that better?

You: Go to Hoots or something if you’re this horny.

Ortega: Jeez, way to just come out and say it like that!

You: You’re not denying it.

Ortega: I didn’t care to. That’s not why I texted you, though.

That’s just an added bonus.

You: There was a perfect opportunity for a joke in there.

Ortega: I know, and I almost said it, but I thought maybe you’d kill me through the screen.

You: I’m tempted anyway, so that couldn’t have made it much worse.

Ortega: Is there anything I can say to convince you to come over?

You lean back against the wall and tap your tongue against the roof of your mouth, thinking it over. You’ve done a lot of work today, all things considered, and you could use a break.

You: I don’t know. What do you think?

Ortega: Maybe I could send you a picture?

You let out a huff of breath and squirm slightly where you sit, flattening your hand against your thigh as you consider your reply.

You: Don’t tell me you’re just going to find a picture on the internet and send it to me…

Ortega: I’m perfectly proud of what I’m packing, thank you very much.

Besides, you’d know if it wasn’t mine. Don’t think I forgot the good look you took at it last time you saw it…

;)

You: Those are some big words, Ricardo…

Ortega: I can let you in on a couple other big things.

You: Ugh. Smug asshole.

You grit your teeth.

Imagine if Tia Elena heard you talking like this.

Ortega: Please don’t bring up Mama when I’m trying to sext you.

You: I thought you were trying to get me to come over.

Ortega: I was, but I didn’t think you were going to change your mind.

Are you?

You: Maybe if you convince me.

Ortega: Do you want my face in the picture?

You let out a laugh and hop down from the workbench, carefully tip-toeing around the scattered tools on the ground as you head for the rickety couch in the corner of the room with your eyes trained on your phone.

You: Like you could bend like that, old man.

Ortega: I could for you.

You: I don’t want your broken back or your hospital bills on my conscience. You gonna send the picture or not?

Ortega: Mmm. Impatient, are we?

You: If you’re not going to send it I can just get back to work…

Ortega: No, no, I’ll send it, hang on.

You wait impatiently with his chat screen open as you settle in on the couch, ignoring the temptation to start rubbing your thighs together. You’re not pathetic enough to start getting yourself off before Ortega even sends a picture, and you’re not even sure if it’s going to be good enough to get you horny, too, so you don’t want to warm yourself up for nothing.

It’s weird how normal it’s become to have this sort of relationship with Ortega. When you were Sidestep, you dreamt about it too much and too strongly to be anything but embarrassed by it, and now that it’s real you can barely believe it sometimes. Sure, things have changed – you’ve changed, too, more than anything – but you can’t deny that it makes you feel a little bit like your younger self. What you could’ve been, maybe.

What you can’t be anymore. But you’re going to push those thoughts out of your head right now.

You zoned out staring at the wall, and when your phone buzzes in your hand you practically jump half a foot in the air. You’re still not used to someone having such easy access to talking to you, and you’re certainly not used to having your phone on vibrate (you had it on mute for a long time before Ortega called you drunk and on the verge of tears one night thinking you had died because you didn’t answer). You take a breath before looking down at the screen and yup, there it is, Ortega’s cock in high definition.

Ortega: You like?

;)

You definitely do, but you didn’t have enough time to appreciate it.

You: The picture is good but your follow-up messages basically just turned me completely off.

Ortega: :(

You’re kidding, right? It took me so long to take that picture.

You: Don’t want it all to be for nothing?

Ortega: I do text my mom with this phone, you know.

Jesus, why am I talking about my mom when I’m trying to jack off?

You’re killing me, Pollux.

Don’t you know it.

You take a longer look at the picture before replying. At the bottom of the screen, you can just make out Ortega’s hand wrapped around himself, and you know for a fact it’s just because he wants to show off how big his cock is in comparison to his fingers. You stifle a smile and bite your lip, giving in and sliding a hand in between your legs. You don’t move it, and you don’t take your pants off or anything, either. You just leave it there, waiting, wondering.

You: Send a video?

Ortega: Christ. Okay.

Gimme a minute.

You: Mmm.

Ortega: Don’t send me that ‘mmm’. I’m trying to save myself for when you come over.

You: Oh, you think I’m coming over now, do you?

Ortega: Definitely. Wait until you hear the noises I’m making in this video if you’re not already convinced.

You: Are you done?

Ortega: Yeah, I’m just watching it again to make sure it’s good.

You: Jesus.

Ortega: I want to make sure it gets you going!

You: Using the exclamation point made it 100% less likely for you to ‘get me going’.

Ortega: You’re mean.

Here I am baring my soul for you and you don’t even care.

You: I care about this video you haven’t sent yet.

Ortega: It’s sending! It’s very long.

You: …

Ortega: I meant the video.

You: Sure you did.

Your phone buzzes as the video finally comes in and you look at the door to your workshop to make sure it’s closed and locked. You don’t know who would come in, but whoever they could be you want to make sure they can’t. You turn your volume all the way up and sink lower against the arm of the couch, turning up your phone brightness until the reflected light of Ortega’s virtual cock slants against the wall behind you.

It’s an obscene video, of course. If he sent this to his mother she’d probably exorcise him, but you enjoy it, in any case. It feels a little stupid, though, to hear him whispering your name into his phone’s speaker, to hear the crackling of the recording as you hold your phone closer to your face to get a better look at it. It’s a good video – you’re not denying that – but it certainly isn’t as efficient as it would be for you to just… go over, maybe, and see it all in person.

Ortega: Did it send?

You: Yeah.

Ortega: Well?

You: You said you’ll pay for the cab?

Ortega: Pollux, I’d pay for a private jet if that’s what it took for you to come over right now.

You glance at the clock on the wall. If you call a cab now, you can be at Ortega’s in 45 minutes.

You: I’ll be there in an hour.

Ortega: :(

Well I’ll be waiting. Should I put my clothes back on?

You: You took ALL your clothes off?

Ortega: …

I was excited.

You: Hmm.

Ortega: Pollux…

No. Leave them off.

Ortega: Your wish is my command.

But hurry, please.

You lock the door to your workshop behind you as you rush to change into something a little cleaner before the cab gets here. A black hoodie with a blue long-sleeve t-shirt underneath, some loose sweatpants that you don’t bother tying up all the way. You’ll be lucky if you even have time to stumble to his bedroom and take your clothes off when you finally get there, to be honest. You’re probably barely going to be able to make it through the front door.

You hurry to climb inside the cab when it arrives, and you swear nothing in the world has ever felt longer than the ride to Ortega’s.

#this was so fuckin fun ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #i hope you like this owen it was so fun to write actually #i wanna write more text fics now i always forget how much i like them #anyway #my writing #chargestep

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websies-remade · 5 years ago

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i was thinking about subway and then spiderman and the deadpool and i wrote smth dumb it’s 4 am i need to be awake in 4 hours someone kill me (^-^)v here u go

there are two types of normal in peter’s life at this point. spiderman normal, and normal normal.

spiderman normal is corrupt and crazy scientists with extra legs and dumb names like ‘Green Goblin’ or ‘Lizard’ claiming they want to kill him. its making hot with a hot white haired woman in a leather cat suit before she punches him and robs him dry. its coming home and stitching himself up because MJ got tired of it and gwen died and also there’s no way he’s explaining any of this to any doctor and oh fuck the lost the string again. spiderman normal is being beaten up every day and trying not to puke up pizza and jumping off buildings and getting hit in the face by drones.

normal normal is the rare few moments in his life where none of that is happening.

peter’s day was normal normal until deadpool showed up.

he didn’t realize the merc was there ‘till he heard his uncanny voice. curse his stupid spidey senses for failing him- what good are they if they don’t respond to nuisances along with deadly bullets?

“well, if it isn’t my favorite avenger-“

“not an avenger.” peter muttered.

“you come here often?” deadpool’s teasing tone never ceased to want to make peter groan miserably. it was so silent just seconds before, when it was just peter, the new york skyline, and his subway sandwich with no onions, but now-

“oh, come on, spidey,” deadpool took a space next to peter on the edge of the building, legs dangling off the side. “aren’t you glad to see me?”

“no, not particularly.” peter snapped. “the quiet was nice.”

“well, at least i destroy silence, not feelings.” deadpool snatched the sandwich out of peter’s hand, rolling his mask up for a bite. after an annoyingly large bite- god, everything deadpool did was annoying- he wrinkled his nose and frowned at the webhead. “no onions? you’re a pussy.”

“and you’re a pain in my ass.” peter protested, taking his sandwich before the merc could take a second bite. “isn’t there anyone else you could go annoy the shit out of? is logan out of town?”

“not in the mood for his broody, stubbly headass. besides,” deadpool kicked his legs like a child, watching them swing in the air as he sat. “saw you leaving the subway some blocks back, i never miss an opportunity for free lunch.”

“stalker much?”

“consider yourself my personal delivery guy. that i have to chase. and i don’t tip.”

“you don’t even like my order.”

“yeah, it could use a bit more... what’s the word? taste.” deadpool watched peter take a bite in disgust. “cheddar, spidey? really? if the lack of onions wasn’t enough, your cheese choice definitely earns you a spot in the raft.”

“that’s crazy. it’s almost like my subway order is perfectly crafted with the expectation no one else, especially not leather clad mercenaries, will be eating it.” peter shot back, holding it up for another bite.

“hmm,” deadpool hums, taking it from his grasp, leaving peter’s teeth biting nothing but air. “expect the unexpected.”

so, peter watches angrily as deadpool finishes the last bit of his sandwich. somewhere in the back of his subconscious, peter adds a tally to his Things Deadpool Does That Warrant Being Punched chart. still, the next time peter gets subway, he finds himself ordering an extra sandwich. that one with onions and provolone. its for me. for later. peter lies to himself.

“is this provolone? oh honey, how you thrill me!”

“shut up.” peter refuses to look at the shit eating grin on deadpool’s face. he refuses to accept deadpool is doing anything but stealing his For Later sandwich he did NOT buy specifically for the mercenary.

“there’s an extra cookie in the bag. don’t eat mine.”

despite peter’s attempts to convince himself otherwise, deadpool has kind of become normal normal. emphasis on kind of.

#roni and writing #spideypool #this is bad sorry ive never written them before #should i post on ao3???#nah #not good enough

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sweetcatmintea · 5 years ago

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Figgy Pudding

Hello hello! I’m back ;3 Here’s a totally unedited attempt at @alexprompts 1st advent calendar prompt! I hope you enjoy spending the holidays with Xave and his family ^u^ Feedback is appreciated!

Prompt: This Picture Words: 1545 Characters: Xavier, Mary, Mama, Mumsie, and Will

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Once a year, when the days grow short, the nights long, and the world finishes its orbit, there is a wonderful celebration. Some places launch into joyous festival, some choose to sit quietly, reflecting on the year past. This Turn of Frost, like each before it, Xavier drank in the tradition with unmatched enthusiasm. He raced down the stairs to where Mama was shoulders deep in the bottom cupboard of the kitchen. Hopping from paw to paw, he couldn’t stop wiggling.

“Mama, Mama, is it time yet? Can we start? I wanna do the mixing! Can I be the mixing boss Mama?”

“You won’t be doing anything if you don’t put those hamsters back.” She didn’t even look up. How did she know?

“Aw! But Captain and Louie want to help too!” He held his cupped hands closer appeasingly. The fuzzy pair peered over his clawed fingers, as hamsters are wont to do. It wouldn’t be right to leave them out of the celebrations! They’re family too.

Mama sighed, pulling herself and the desired pot out of the cupboard, wiping her halo of tight black curls off her face. It was massive, shoved all the way in the back under the more frequently used utensils.

“That may be the case, but it’s too dangerous for them in the kitchen. Put them back in their tank please, if you want to help.”

Xavier had half a mind to argue, his hamsters were very smart after all, obviously they wouldn’t have accidents like normal hamsters, but Mumsie’s Look as she entered the kitchen kept his mouth shut. He really wanted to help. Louie and Captain wouldn’t mind too much would they? Okay! It was decided. He’ll just tell them about it afterwards. Dashing back to his room, he called over his shoulder, “Don’t start without me! I’m the mixing boss!”

“Please.”

“Please!”

It took less than a moment before he was in the kitchen once more. The Most Important step, as good mixing boss will tell you, is to wash your hands before you start. The secret Most Important step is that you must make sure you don’t touch anything that is not food while you’re cooking or you have to wash your hands again. Although Mary could reach the sink easily, Xavier wasn’t quite (at all) tall enough yet, hopping onto his little wooden step beside her. She paid special attention to her long claws. Xavier wondered if his little nails would get that long one day. Somehow, he doubted they would. He was a fox after all, not a bear.

Bells twinkled along with the radio’s merry hum, filling the house with festive music as the four family members worked together in the cosy kitchen finding and arranging the ingredients prescribed by the generations old cookbook. It was warm, not the room, exactly, but in Xavier’s chest. They sang along with the songs they knew, made up lyrics for the ones they didn’t. He loved when his mums sang together. Mary was very skilled, it was true, but his parents always looked so happy in harmony.

Almost immediately, Xavier spilled a cup of flour all over himself. He sneezed so many times he was certain he must have broken a record. Mary got to work carefully chopping the dates and figs while Mumsie measured the sugar and jam. It was the same jam they’d made when their plum tree had fruited, so Xavier knew it was going to be good. Mama prepared a soaked cheese cloth on the scrap of yet unoccupied bench, then warmed the milk. As requested, he was the mixing boss. When the mixture got too tough too stir, it would have to be mixed by hand and oh how ready he was. But! In the meantime, he’d pay attention to stir it very properly, like a good mixing boss.

“Can I eat some?” Warm spices made his mouth water. It smelled so good. Surely a little bite wouldn’t hurt.

Evidently Mama thought otherwise. “Not yet.” She laughed. “It’s just flour at the moment. It’ll taste pretty bad.”

“No way! It won’t!!” That wasn’t possible.

“You don’t believe your own Mama?” She held a hand over her heart, feigning hurt (so that’s where Will learned it!).

Xavier’s tail thrashed. That wasn’t true! He trusted Mama. “No! I believe you! But, um, I think that maybe you’re not telling the truth ‘cause you just don’t want me to eat it all yet…”

“That just means you don’t believe her!” Mary cut in.

“No!! That’s not true!” He hopped up and down. Not believing and thinking that someone might be fibbing are definitely Not the same! How was he supposed to explain though?

Mumsie took it upon herself to settle it. A fresh teaspoon in hand, she offered a taste to Xavier. “You’re not going to like it but you can try it.”

He was going to prove them wrong! No time for hesitation, he shoved the spoon in his mouth. The culmination of his life’s decisions was supposed to be sweeter than this. Immediate regret.

“Pleh! It’s bad! Why’s -pleh- it so -pleh- spicy bad??” Most ended up on the floor. The stubborn remnants gargled down the sink. No fair! His family laughed as he scrambled around. It’s not that funny!

Taking pity on her foolish brother, Mary held out a date. “Here, this’ll help.”

“Thanks Mary.” He chomped it down, no questions asked. At least he learned quickly. She was right, it really did take the edge off the flour.

The milk reached the boil and the ingredients were married together in the large mixing bowl. A knock cut through the music, interrupting Xavier’s stirring concentration. His parents shared a knowing look. Why do Adults have secret brain talks anyway? Xavier was pretty sure that was rude.

“Let Mama take over for a second Xave, someone’s at the door.”

“Okay, but don’t forget I’m the mixing boss, okay! Mama can be the mixing first mate. Come on Mary!” He grabbed her hand before she could agree, dragging his sister with him. The knock sounded again.

Adult? Check!

Day time? Check! (Mostly, it wasn’t quite evening.)

Chain on to see who is at the door first? Check!

Xavier cracked the door open, taking a responsible peak at the identity of the newcomer.

“Will!!” He squealed with delight.

Will stood, one hand on his backpack strap, the other hanging casually to his side. Did he have presents in there? “Are you going to let me in or should I go back to my place?”

Mary answered first, “No sales people thanks, we’re good.” Pretending to shut the door.

“No!! Mary, it’s Will, he’s not a sales person!” Xavier wailed. “Let him in!!”

“I dunno, he looks shady to me. I think we should lock him out.”

“Nooooo! Maarryy please!!” All but hanging off her arm, Xavier gave his best puppy dog eyes, quivering his lower lip and drooping his ears low.

Mary sighed dramatically. “Fiiine, I guess we can let him in this one time.” She unlatched the chain, opening it wide for their brother. “Come on in.”

“Thanks Mary, that’s so kind of you.” Will rolled his eyes, poking his tongue at her. She returned the favour. “I was held up at work, did I miss anything?”

“No,” she smiled, “You’re right on time.”

“Come onnnn! Come on come on come on! Mama is going to do all the mixing while you’re talking and she can’t do that because she’s not the mixing boss!” Bouncing from paw to paw again, Xavier tried to pull his siblings into anything faster than a leisurely stroll.

Hugs and kisses exchanged, they crowded around the bowl.

“Time to make a wish! Give the pudding a stir and wish away.” Mama said, mixing her wish in as she spoke. She passed the spoon on.

Mumsie gave a stir, kissing Mama gently on her cheek, her whispered wish in the same breath. Gross! Plus, didn’t she know you’re not supposed to say your wishes or they don’t come true? Mama kissed back, holding Mumsie close to her side.

Will took the spoon next, stirring slowly, dramatically. “Hmm, my wish is that Xave will grow tall.”

“You’re not supposed to say it! Now it won’t come true!!”

“I know.” Mischief twinkled in his brown eyes. “Now you’re gonna be short forever.”

“Hey!! You can’t do that!! I don’t wanna be short, I mean, I’m not short now!” Xavier bounced in his tiny outrage. “Mama, Mumsie, make him undo that! Tell him he can’t make me short forever!”

Mary took the spoon. “I’ll unwish it. I wish that Xavier will Not grow tall. There, now you’ll grow just right, okay?”

Xavier hugged her leg. “Thanks Mary.”

“Besides,” Will pinched Xavier’s ear teasingly, “wishes don’t come true all by themselves. You’ve got to help them and work for it. I’m not going to put any effort into keeping you short so don’t worry so much.”

Sounds fake but okay. Xavier took the spoon, the last to stir. Careful to use his whisper voice, even in his brain, he made his wish. ‘I wish we can be happy together for ever.’ ‘p.s. a bike would also be good.’ ‘p.p.s. thank you wish pudding.’

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Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

#Usually I rewrite to add in more description and scene setting but I got tired <u<;;#Zero edits unfortunately #writing #writblr #flash fiction #alexpromptsadventcalendar #story #short story #A Hare's Worth #drabble #character mentions #Xavier #Will #Mary #Mumsie #Mama #More at my deviantArt SweetCatMint

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hellsbovnd-archive · 5 years ago

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#3: LOST

focus: Janos jen Renata wc: 1118

Who will win: an (ex-?)Architectus or a Goblin-made fruit peeler?

[ PDF MIRROR ]

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast | mentions/relevant to: @bladeblooming (hi sorry I died AGDKHFJS) & @theaugustrebel (Jan is making poor life choices in Mima’s workshop again)

In its owners absence, Miyuki’s workshop was uncharacteristically cold. It struck him as odd at first, before she caught him on the way out one night and invited him to go shoot empty wine bottles in the middle of the desert at night—an excursion which very quickly explained everything that he needed to know about her prolonged absence and a few things that he didn’t.

… … … Well, at least she was getting the help she needed. Janos was no expert on medicine, let alone sicknesses of the mind. He had been an Architectus, not a Medicus, and he couldn’t pretend to understand her circumstances. He had chosen to enlist in the military to serve his country, but he was under no illusions with regards to those hailing from the annexed territories of the Empire. He never asked about Miyuki’s experiences—figured it would be impolite at best and painfully awkward at worst.

And at least she had given him use of her workshop while she was, as she put it, on probation. He’d managed to do some work on his latest pet project in the comfortable confines of his inn room (comfortable compared to the barracks he was used to anyway, which granted was not a hard standard to meet), but he really needed proper tools and a workbench to get what he wanted to do done. At least, that was what he told himself when he asked her permission.

The past several bells had been… Less than productive. The silence was eerie, and he kind of wished he had stayed with Miyuki the previous night to make sure she was alright after taking such a tumble—and drinking so much whiskey. (Taking care of people so drunk that they passed out was something he’d gotten used to since finding himself in Eorzea with no way back home.) Maybe he could have done her a favor for her self-esteem and actually let her poke around his third eye, as much as the thought of letting anything sharp near it made him instinctively cringe.

Despite that unease, though, Janos was of the opinion that he did his best work when he was alone. When he didn’t have anyone breathing down his neck about quotas or deadlines or what-ever-else. When he had room to breathe, when he had room to think.

And Janos liked to think he was the sort of person to follow up on his obligations! The fireworks of the Moonfire Faire subsided into the fireworks shot into the sky for Eorzea’s Rising celebration—which he quickly gathered was a less than celebratory time of the year. More-so, it was a time to remember those lost at Carteneau and those who died when Dalamud came down. Janos didn’t know anyone involved in the operation (on either side), so as soon as he figured out what the decorations were for, he just kept his head down. There was nothing that he could contribute to this festival.

… But for the last several bells the most productive thing he’d done was probably find the right screwdriver to use for the little screws—thank goodness that Miyuki had the tiny ones on hand—and clean up a few messes he’d made over the past sennight, before he’d actually asked permission to use the workshop in her absence.

His latest project was a bit odd, all things considered. It wasn’t often that he got to tinker, and he had no intention of passing it up when a young woman came to him attempting to pawn off some sort of Goblin contraption. Which, at the time, he hadn’t the money to pay for—nor did he actually know what it was until he got back to his inn room and started to play with it, figure out how it worked. At which point it revealed itself as, of all things, a fruit peeler.

Goblin technology was horribly over-wrought compared to what he was used to; Janos’s idea of a fruit peeler was a small, hand-held blade. But he supposed such a complicated contraption might be necessary when you are a Goblin and your hands are so tiny that they might not be able to hold apples firm and the pouch attached to the front of your mask was so large as to be cumbersome, though on that note Janos had no idea where fruit would actually fit into a Goblin’s diet, since the beastmen seemed more preoccupied with cheese than any other source of food. With other facets of Goblin cuisine remaining a complete fucking mystery, why they would need or want to peel fruit before eating it was somewhat perplexing when you could just bite into most fruits with no ill effects on your health.

Such thoughts had even started to keep him up at night, along with thoughts of how to give the machine’s complexity an equivalent use. He’d promised to turn it into something better, something valuable—and the firework shows going on near every night outside had inspired him to try and do something with that. After all, Eorzeans sure loved their fireworks, and even Janos had to admit to taking some time to himself to watch them light up the dark canvas of the night sky. And he had some spare parts he needed to use that hadn’t made the cut to be incorporation into Bad News for any number of reasons. And if he was being honest…

… He was only really good at making weapons. But something was missing, something that he couldn’t put his finger on. He was confident that he could make something useful out of this. He was used to working with scrap; he’d forged Bad News almost entirely out of black market and shoddy parts. But something told him that his idea of useful might not exactly align with an Eorzean’s idea of useful. What use did the average Eorzean have for, say, a gun? They had magic!

Which, much to his chagrin, left his project without a direction.

Janos pressed his fingertips into his temples—hard. If Miyuki were allowed into her workshop, maybe she would have offered some advice; she was clearly more experienced with engineering than he was, despite being younger. She had a better education in it, too; she’d gotten to go to the Academy, where Janos only dreamed of getting in. Janos himself had, of course, been relegated to maintenance work on the back lines, where only a rare few issues were ever pressing and they weren’t issues that he got to touch with a ten-fulm pole.

But maybe if he figured out a way to spin it, he could…

—Wait. That’s it.

Spin.

#ffxivwrite2019 #ffxiv rp #balmung rp #crystal rp #ffxiv balmung #ffxiv crystal #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #garlean #garlean rp #hellsbovnd #ic ( story )#about ( janos jen renata )#[ FOUR MINUTES TILL NEXT PROMPT I DID IT YEAH ]#long post /#[ i could have done somethign really dark but i'll do that later in the month. i gotta earn it ]#[ besides this is two/three birds with 1 stone im so bad at this keeping up w rp partners thing ]

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bugcthulhu · 6 years ago

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Spanish/Iberian mythological creatures: Summer Edition

Peix Nicolau: A human child so infatuated with the sea that his mother unwittingly cursed him into a half-fish form. Usually treated as sort of sea goblin, playing pranks on sailors, sometimes he is said to share the secrets of the sea with whoever will listen, and in some versions has terrifying red eyes, making the hair of whoever looks at them go white with fear

Mular: An absolutely massive cetacean, capable of spewing water through its nostrils with enough power to destroy ships. Said to be all extremely old, and unable to die of natural causes; the sea will become violent in the event one is actually killed. Bear offspring in groups of seven, carrying them on their backs

Ruixamantells: A goddess of the sea similar to a mermaid, decked in pearls, shells and coral. Will sink ships and drag men to her underwater lair…but not out of malice, but because she falls in love easily

Vellmarí: “Sea Old Man” Chubby, with human-like features and covered in short hair. Tends to follow ships and is really fond of music, imitating songs with its own voice. Its hide makes for a powerful amulet, thus sailors lure it for capture with musical instruments.

Percolet: A sea goblin that takes the form of a white bird, playing around ships. Brings good luck.

Pedra Snake: A giant man-eating snake that terrorized the Morvedre region and resisted all attempts at killing it until a passing old lady transformed it into stone. Said to occasionally return to its former self, devouring whoever is near.

Saint Eudald’s Dragon. Referred as both a dragon and a “lizard”. Capable of both flying and swimming, laid waste to the whole region. Killed by a knight who left several mirrors at the entrance of its cave, tricking the dragon into believing it was being attacked by multiple foes and thus too scared to defend itself.

Patriarch’s Dragon: Supposedly a gift from a Peru viceroy to a certain archbishop, who went on to name it “Lepanto”. After it died of old age, the archbishop had the dragon’s body stuffed and mounted on the School of the Patriarch, in Valencia, where children are warned to stay quiet in its presence, lest the dragon get them. A popular tale has the same dragon in a more classic role, making its den in a riverbed and described as too fast for most would-be-slayers to lay a finger on it.

In reality, old Lepanto was almost certainly an alligator.

Biosbardo: A being in the spirit of the American “snipe”, extremely hard to catch and extremely hard to describe, although the most common interpretation is that of an extraordinarily beautiful bird. Whoever manages to capture one will be rewarded with good luck for the rest of their lives, as long as they never, ever reveal it to anyone else.

Cerval Wolf: A beast that combines “the cunning of the cat and the brutality of the wolf”. Rules over and commands regular wolves, and rather than eat meat, it beheads cattle in order to drink all their blood. Believed to be a wild exaggeration of the Iberian lynx.

Magoria: Mysterious creature that lives below the ground and only ever exposes its tail, which is extremely similar to the mistletoe plant. Grants good luck when offered food, but every day it demands more, and should it go hungry it will reverse all that good luck into misery

Caro: A bird with the head of a bearded old man that flies at night, hunting for goats lost by shepherds

Gorga Rooster: Black-feathered, large and ferocious. Formerly demons, cursed into this form for engaging in dog fights.

El Gosset: “The Little Dog”. A seemingly ordinary, if really ancient carob tree that spawns a rabid, deformed mass of a dog when anyone approaches it

Zunguluteru: Goblin that induces gas and stomach pains on people by blowing air in their ears as they sleep, as well as “counting their ribs”, somehow causing them to wake up terribly in the mornings

Encoruja: Malicious witch that enters houses as a ball of light. Takes babies from their cribs, only to leave them in the least likely places, like stables.

Bastardo: A horned, hairy snake with a huge thirst for the milk of cows and goats. Not only it has a deadly bite, but can defend itself by whipping its tail real hard.

Pomporrilla: Grotesque, black-skinned female goblin, with a toothless mouth and a single withered breast. Loves acorns

Garganta Goblin: Stole a woman’s fertility in the eponymous municipality, and the neighbours gave chase in the hopes of killing it and breaking the curse. Described as being a vivid green that glowed at night, and running around on all fours in a zig-zag pattern

Rupiano Serpent: A snake-like dragon of terrifying visage and a single eye said to be so massive its tail remained deep in its cave whenever it emerged to hunt. Like a reptilian Polyphemus, a group of monks managed to feed it drugged bread, then took chance of its stupor to stab it through the eye with a sharpened log.

Fragosa Giant: Described as both translucent and gelatinous, like a white blur that moves gracefully, spinning left and right. Makes constant bell-like sounds

Chiquita: A small snake raised on a diet of cow milk by a shepherd who eventually was drafted into war. After his return, he looked for Chiquita in the cave she usually stayed in and called out for her….and Chiquita had grown up into a ferocious dragon that tore him to shreds

Golden Hand: Self-explanatory. Shepherds that find it in the wilderness and bring it home will soon find the hand going on a killing spree among their livestock, leaving a handprint burned into the animals’ flesh

Etxejaun: Domestic goblin or spirit that watches over the house while its human owners sleep. Though benign, it becomes enraged should the house be neglected or no food offerings are made.

Puigmal: Guardian of mountains and all that lives in them, appearing as a giant perpetually coated in snow. Knows how to make a magical, endlessly-regenerating cheese.

Argiduna: Goblin made of light, similar to the evil-dispelling Guargi. Wanders at night helping the lost or those in need, and whoever stumbles upon the temples they gather in will find objects they thought lost.

La Pesga Beast: Described by supposed eyewitnesses as a massive thing between boar and bear, with a long snout and enormous tusks. Mutilates prey in bizarre ways (ears and hindquarters are gone) and leaves no recognizable tracks.

Emmi Serpent: A snake sporting a hairy mane that did away with the cows of a local villa, releasing them after they were drained of milk. When it was finally found and shot by the owner, it transformed into a woman and cursed the villa to be forever ruined.

Intxixu: Half man, half black bull, very thin, very hairy and of small stature. Lives in caves and mountains, but due to its agility and elusiveness it is rarely seen. Sometimes said to have great magic powers, while others say it has immense strength, but only at night

Tenae Imp: Reddish, bat-sized goblin that typically lives in open fields but takes shelter in barns during the coldest months. Blows grass into the faces of people and livestock to make them sneeze

Aralar Dragon: Took residence in a cave atop its namesake mountain and demanded a human sacrifice every day. A noble Lord Theodosius offered himself in place of the newest victim….and as soon as the dragon seized him in its jaws, he prayed for Saint Michael to come and slay it, which he did.

Arrasate Dragon: Its appetite for young maidens proved its downfall after trying to eat a wax replica, gumming up its jaws and allowing the local blacksmiths to shove a hot iron down its throat.

Llivia Dragon: Single-handedly almost decimated an entire village’s worth of people until killed by a knight with a cross-bearing shield, the sight of which terrified the dragon.

Fute Canela: Horrendous female bogeyman that claims the eyes of children.

Xuan Canas: Aquatic goblin found in both rivers and deep wells, watching close whoever wanders near, be they adult or child, and pull them underwater if they drop their guard. Sometimes treated as the male counterpart of the xana

Maxio: Ethereal being similar to a white cloud believed in the Canary Islands to be a form taken by long-dead ancestors to help their descendants. Their presence amounts to a good omen.

Zanca Parranca: A long-limbed, deformed woman that sometimes devours children but mostly spooks them and causes chaos and mischief in the houses it enters, driving the women inside to madness. Her own innards bulge out of her throat

Gusarapa: Nocturnal child-eater whose poisonous spit causes a lethal stomach ache. Its name is also used as a slang for worm-shaped things

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thedappleddragon · 4 years ago

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ok time for 2 days worth of journaling

yesterday I discovered that if I take half of a mini bagel (because the store was out of bagel things), put on cream cheese and a slice of salami, you can make a pretty good bagel bite. I talked with my dad for a while about college things when he came home from work and brought groceries. I also made a frozen chicken Laredo pasta thing for dinner and ended up sharing it with my mom. dad and I shared ideas for what to add to it next time to make it better. I started with chopping up spinach, because I know it shrinks a bunch and is easy to hide in stuff. I want to try adding a little salt, maybe some garlic and onion, parmesan cheese, more greens, a bunch of stuff. idk. I like pretending to be a chef. but I talked with my ad about what kind of stuff I'll need for college, and how I'll probably need to buy real clothes and makeup so I dont look like a goblin who’s been existing solely in basketball shorts and pajama pants for the past year in quarantine.that;s why I made that post last night about fun girly sleepover or simple-ass makeup tutorial. I tried washing my face with an Olay soap bar, and it left my skin feeling nice but idk how good/bad it actually is for your face since its meant to be a body bar. I real online that a plain dove bar is actually pretty damn good for your face, but Olay was the only thing I had on hand. whatever. i played a bunch of stardew valley as well

I slept like shit last night, waking up at like 4 am and all mr dreams being shades of muted grey and brown and broken up into blocks, idk. I've been having weird abstract dreams and sleeping like shit for the past couple days. I think that's partially what cause my head to spin all afternoon. whenever I moved my head, it felt like my ghost was lagging behind my body if that makes sense. it sucked but got better when I moved around. I had my dad bring me water and Tylenol and then come back a second time to light my candle because he smelled like cigarettes and left the smell in my room. but I realized it was April fools day when I woke up, and contemplated how I was gonna prank my friends. I didnt come up with anything until my sister sent a picture of a crashed white Volvo, saying she failed her driving test. when my mom showed me I didnt believe her for a second, and folded over laughing when my mom was concerned about if it was real or not. I stole that joke and showed it to my 2 friend groups, with panicked misspelled texts to go with it for *authenticity* lmao. both groups fell for it at first, but band friends taking longer to catch on so I had to tell them it was a prank. my gamer friend in the other chat caught me almost IMMEDIATLY with reverse google image searching. but I laughed my ass off for a while either way. I didnt play any stardew today but I did play a little Webkinz. when my sister came back from her driving test, my dad brought home Dairy Queen blizzards and mentioned getting a nice-is dinner takeout :) unfortunately I waited forever for him to bring home food and it never happened. so my sister and I went through the mcdonalds drive through and got served by this absolutely DELIGHTFUL middle aged man who was very nice and funny and I told him she just got her license today. we went home and ate in my sisters room and watched John mulaney’s new in town. I had never actually watched the full special, but through Tumblr memes and a million animatics, I had pretty much seen everything. I had fun tho. we got regular chicken sandwiches when we porobably should have gotten the deluxe ones with lettuce and tomato and source or just gone to Wendy’s. tbh Wendy’s is SO MUCH FUCNKIN BETTER. and the mcdonalds was more expensive than I thought it would be. whatever. if we had gone to Wendy’s, sure we would have gotten better burgers, but we wouldn't have seen that deightful man. anyway earlier today I gave my cat some catnip and she was really cute about it. do cats drool more when they’re high? cuz damn it sure felt like it when she was mashing her face into my hand. for lunch I made a different pasta thing, this time shrimp lomeign. I added spinach and broccoli, which I'm going to do for now and forever because it SLAPPED but my mom was acting like a child, saying broccoli is gross. she had me make spaghetti and proceeded to eat 3 or 4 bowls. I had a couple and went to my room. I realize that I'm typing all this shit WAYYYYY out of order, sorry to me reading back in the future or anyone who bothers to read these. tbh why would you. I hope people dont have my talk tag blocked (thanks for coming to my ted talk) and instead have 2021 daily blocked if they dont want to see these. I still make funny posts sometimes!! that’s also what I tag my art with!! but neither of those people would be able to read this anyway so I'm just preaching to the choir. anyway you’ll be happy to know that my head is no longer spinning, my teeth are nice and clean, I've got my comfy socks and pajama pants on, and I’m ready for bed. eventually. it’s not even midnight yet lmao. I guess I can mention this morning when my cat yelled at me asking to go outside, but it was literally FREEZING and im 100% sure I saw some snowflakes while I was out there for a couple minutes. she got so cold she climbed up on my lap as I was wrapped in my childhood sleeping bag I found in the laundry room. I breathed warm air on her and sat out there for another minute or so, mostly insulated by the sleeping bag, but carried her inside eventually. I didnt want to have to deal with that shit. tbh even tho I just had mcdonalds and it’s almost midnight and I've already brushed my teeth, I'm still a little bit hungry. but I dont know it’s that’s just because I'm lying down and your body takes a little while to tell you when you’re full, or if it’s because I waited for SO LONG waiting for city barbecue or bento cafe that just a burger and fries wasn't enough to cut it. well I'll just sleep it off anyway. you know what’s really cute? my cat laid on my lap and rested her chin on my hand as I typed :) I love her

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #April 2021 daily #2021 daily #wow new mont new tag #Ii gotta change over my calendar to see what the new baby animal will be #march was a baby seel #June is going to ba a money which I think is very homophobic because I HATE MONKIES>:(

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thetradeway · 4 years ago

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Session 21: 28 Nov 2020

What were we doing? Oh right, looking for Raeph. He’s NOT Tarragon’s boyfriend, GODDDDD. We are headed toward Eihshara, in the High Forest. We take a long rest, phew!

Melaina and Gunna lead the charge, as Gunna has been making maps and Melaina is from here. Apparently Ahleqs is still blue, and will be until he either sneezes or the Remove Curse spell is cast on him. (Nope - the beard of feathers lasts until he sneezes. He has not done so.)

We reach the High Forest. We spend the day walking through it; any gathering done in here yields an extra 1 of whatever you’re gathering as the forest is so rich. Gunna asks Tarragon if she can keep an eye out for a certain sort of hallucinogenic mushrooms; she agrees.

As we eat, Tarragon hears something scrabbling; it doesn’t sound like an animal. She goes to investigate. She can’t see anything but goes back to the group. We continue on but quietly; Melaina climbs a tree and has a look - she sees a giant owl with a small figure on the back. It is watching us, but hasn’t seen Melaina. It’s circling around under the canopy of the giant trees. She shouts: “WHO ARE YOU, WHAT ARE YOU DOING”, makes a performance check and rolls a 3.

The figure still doesn’t seem to notice her. We decide to make ourselves known; no point the thing hunting us if we know it’s there.

The owl alights - there is a gnome on its back. Tarragon: ‘Eyyyy!’ His name is Fidget.

He nods at us, but seems wary of Kessler. (Mina isn’t here yet.) Melaina tells her to stop swearing and put her clothes back on. He doesn’t want to see her Muppet Babies tattoo. (That’s canon now.) We all start singing the only bit of the Muppet Babies theme we can remember; the bit that goes “Muppet Babies”.

We’re going the right way toward Eihshara, continue on up the Unicorn Run for a few more days. Fidget gives Tarragon a little mechanical bug. He says to follow the green lights and the mechanical bug will lead us to Fidget’s town, and we can resupply if Tarragon will vouch for Kessler (gnomes don’t generally trust goblins). It’s enchanted to be hidden, as gnomish settlements tend to be.

Mina arrives and Kessler promises to be on her best behaviour; she even sets her armour to stealth mode so it’s less scary to look at.

Tarragon starts to spot some green lights in the trees. We follow them until we arrive at a clearing with a river. The village materialises in front of us. Fidget and his owl approach and welcome us to Finkletoog.

Ahleqs asks if there’s a tavern, as he quite fancies either a ploughman’s or scampi and chips. Definitely not a pickled egg in a packet of crisps though. (The smell still haunts Matthew in his nightmares.)

Ahleqs has a thought and goes off to check if everything’s blue; he comes back and is quiet for a bit.

Ahleqs and Melaina; ale and pie of the day, Kessler: ale, pie and chips, Gunna: ale and meat cheese and bread no salad. Totally zero salad, not even a garnish. Tarragon promises to pass on his request, and remove the garnish if it is ignored. She has a vegetable pie.

We sit outside to eat as the bigjobs won’t fit. We look around and see a lot of shops including a tinkerer’s shop. The gnomes are polite but they all give Kessler wary looks. Nobody is rude, however. She smiles and waves whenever she catches someone’s eye; the smiles are warily returned.

Some of us get rations from the inn. Tarragon doesn’t intend to, until Ahleqs comes back out with some potato salad in his; she goes in and buys two days’ worth. Gunna buys us all drinks in our first chance to make merry since the misery house, to thank us all for stopping him from being dead.

These gnomes know how to drink; a regular ale is regular sized. Gunna says he may get another round in. Ahleqs and Tarragon go to the tinkerer’s to buy potions. The shopkeeper comes out to greet us since Ahleqs won’t fit.

Tarragon buys a couple of vials of anti-toxin; Ahleqs has to pass a persuasion check to get his healing potions for the same price offered to Tarragon. (lol.)

Kessler wants to buy some Greater healing potions, but they are 250gp each so she gets some regulars instead.

Gideon arrives and does a massive burp.

Melaina asks to buy 10 Regular Healing Potions for 300 gold and rolls 18 Persuasion. Woohoo! Gunna pitches in 100, as does Kessler. We all pitch in to cover the rest.

Melaina buys some arrows and haggles over them. (Apparently she is this group’s Vex’ahlia. Somewhere, Laura Bailey approves.)

Kessler buys some silvered arrows.

As we go to leave, Fidget tells Tarragon she can keep the bug in case we ever come back.

Follow Unicorn Run NE to halfling village Halfstone Coppice. Follow river toward mountains and we will reach Eihshara.

Kessler asks Tarragon as we leave if she did okay; Tarragon tells her that yes she did and that she’s proud of her. Kessler immediately ruins it by trying to bite Gideon. Ahleqs has named his donkey Clarence, and doesn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl.

Tarragon forages and Gunna hunts a deer and is successful, possibly only because Tarragon casts Entangle on Ahleqs to keep him from crashing around the forest and scaring all the animals. The deer is large enough that there is food for the meat eaters and some over to smoke and add to his rations. Tarragon finds enough berries that she can add some to her rations as well. She doesn’t find any of Gunna’s mushrooms though. Ahleqs is still Entangled when she arrives back to drop the spell, having accepted his fate.

Kessler sets up her alarm spell and takes first watch, which passes uneventfully. She wakes Tarragon politely, and everyone is pleased. Nothing concerning on watch 2; Tarragon spots some fey creatures, but nothing threatening. Melaina is next, and gets advantage on Perception as she’s on her home ground. Again, nothing threatening.

We set off the next morning and follow the river. In the afternoon, we see what we assume is the halfling village. Ahleqs announces that his bum hurts; he’s got saddle sores.

Melaina and Tarragon see tiny figures (halflings) running into the houses and shutting the doors and others chasing them with weapons. They are goblins. Gasp!

Kessler mentions spit-roasting; well, that’s twenty minutes of arsing about right there. We pull ourselves together and rush toward the peril.

Gideon sees some of the halflings through a window; they look more rough and ready than the halflings we’re used to seeing in the cities. More feral.

Kessler goes first; she shouts in Goblin and asks to speak to their leader. It asks why she’s with us; she tells it that we work for her. It indicates Gideon and says that goblins never work with (mountain scum? Or something). Gideon’s ears prick up even though he doesn’t speak goblin; it’s as if someone’s called him that before.

Kessler offers to help the goblins. (Oh fuck.) Nat 20 on persuasion. It says it will take her to its leader if she agrees to tie up Gideon; she refuses. She wants it to bring the leader here; dirty 20. The goblin agrees to go and speak to his boss. She has successfully Karen’ed the situation. Gunna follows Kessler’s lead as instructed, speaking pidgin goblin and doing a gross dance.

She asks us not to attack unless they do; Gideon (OOC) screams “FIREBALL!!!”

Popcorn holds an attack; Tarragon hears a female voice asking for help in gnomish in her head (Are these halflings Ghostwise?), and holds Entangle for any evidence that the goblins are attacking the halflings. Gideon shuffles his feet in the dirt, waiting for something to happen.

A bloodied and injured boar comes running up to Kessler - it bites her. Tarragon hears the voice in her head again - but it seems to be coming from the boar. Huh?

Ahleqs casts Mage Armor. Melaina readies her longbow for if the tide turns and it becomes apparent that we are fighting.

One of the goblins shoots at the boar. This is all very confusing. Joe’s audio drops out, but the boar transforms into a female figure - a tiny, raggedy, red headed halfling. Druids, then? Also possibly ghostwise? (How did I not think of Druids… honestly.)

Gunna peers through a window to see a little halfling couple cowering. In his head he hears the girl begging for help; she says the goblins are slavers. That might change things. Gunna thinks really hard with his mind, using all of his magical psychic northman-ness (of which he has none), “I’m gonna help you, we’ll protect you, there’s a plan I’m pretty sure, just hide, hide and we’ll make sure that you’re not dead”. He stands guard by the door until he realises it’s a window, then edges a little closer to the door, making his presence known. He readies an attack if the goblins try to enter the building. However, the warg and its rider are already scratching at the door. He does a thousand-yard Paddington stare at it. He adjusts his triggering condition - if the door breaks, he will attack. He tells Kessler that he hates her plan.

(Ed has been making mead; it turns out that it’s a little stronger than he thought it was. He apologises in advance.)

The goblin returns and says that the boss won’t come and speak to us unless Kessler’s ‘servants’ are restrained. Kessler shoots a lightning bolt at it. And the fight begins in earnest!

Tarragon goes bear and eats a goblin; Kessler is offended so she spits the bits out. Gideon roasts three more with a Scorching Ray. There’s a lot of drunken rambling; Gideon considers fragging Kessler - ‘it’ll be just like Vietnam, no-one will notice’.

Ahleqs casts Eldritch Blast with ToC and natty 20’s it. He maximises the damage of the next spell - “MR. PICKLES, WITNESS ME!!!!”

Melaina hides and shoots a warg with sharpshooter and hits. 26 damage and kills it. Woohoo!

The warg reconsiders its life choices as it dies; says a few words to its mum and passes with gratitude. The last few months, his heart hasn’t been in it.

Gunna wants to kill a goblin with another goblin; he decides to attack with a longsword instead. 12 hits, but just. He chops it in half, spraying the yellow flowers in the window box with icky green blood. He roars in triumph.

Bear-Tarragon moves south and finds an ogre with a fortification strapped to it, and a bunch of goblins hanging out of that. Well, that’ll be fun for next week!

Gideon Chill-Touches a goblin. it takes 2 necrotic damage.

AHLEQS DOES MAX DAMAGE ON HIS NEXT ATTACK but Duncan is away next weekend and can’t play. Saturday? Saturday? Everyone else good for Saturday? Right, good. Duncan hands Ahleqs’s reins to Matthew.

#dnd #thetradeway #campaign diary

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the-foxwolf · 8 years ago

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A Quest for Vengeance: “With Friends Like These...”: A Short Story

Time for another episode from my A Quest for Vengeance series!

In today’s episode, @foilmountain‘s Ellis and @baldore-of-the-boros‘s Kheve make a guest appearance in this story about the mysterious slavers who have captured both them, and @actualborossoldier‘s Marius and @confused-phyrexian‘s Thaclel. Who are these slavers? Learn more about them this episode!

Gather `Round! It’s Story Telling Time!

Taker saunters into Seeker’s dimly lit workshop, her elevated boot heels clacking softly against the cold stone floor with each step. The seemingly haphazardly placed, overstuffed, tool shelves break the sound of her approach. A sound she loves to make, to hear. It makes her feel powerful. That her presence demands and deserves attention. She reaches the edge of a shelf and finds Seeker hunched over his workbench, with the room’s lone source of light, illuminating it in a harsh bright white glow. Mirrors line the walls facing the corner, giving the goblin currently hunched over the workbench an excellent view of each row of shelves. Hrrm… Seems there is some method to this little goblin’s madness.

Fine tweezers in one hand and delicate screwdriver in the other, Seeker notices movement on the mirror and sets down his tools. He spins on his stool to face her and waves.

“What you working on over there?” She says.

Seeker shakes his head, floppy green ears brushing against his it, and points at them.

“Oh! That’s what you’re up to.” Taker says with a nod.

Did something happen? She signs to him with their pre-established language composed of hand motions and gestures.

Nope. Seeker signs back. Invented new battery. The goblin signs with a big grin, revealing his uncomfortably straight and bright white teeth. Can last whole year now. Finishing installing it.

She claps her hands, her leather fingerless gloves muffling the sound. The goblin grins even wider, his eyes nearly disappearing in the fleshy wrinkles of his smile.

(Squee, Goblin Nabob: Modern Masters) (Art by Greg Staples)

What brings you here? He asks.

The Gruul captive. She responds. You can’t keep him wrapped in that net forever. He’s useless to us while he’s in there.

Seeker nods, floppy ears like wings. Been working. Took a break for my earpieces. Almost done with both. Should have lunch first though.

Lunch? You mean dinner? You worked straight through the day, you silly brown goblin.

Brown? Green! He signs. You don’t see me calling you orange.

She points at her eyes and then signs, Color blind, remember? Besides. I’m practically ivory toned.

He signs his apologies, and caresses his growling stomach apologetically.

Finish up. Taker signs. Dominique is grilling us some steak and asparagus today. And I’m making those mashed potatoes I know you love.

Seeker literally bounces out of his seat, grinning, and starts to push her out of his work room. Go! Hurry! Let me finish! Go make potatoes!

Alright, alright. She signs back. I’ll see you then.

Kheve wakes to the sound of thrulls entering the dungeon where he and Ellis have been kept for almost a day now. Through the lone window high up the smooth cold stone walls, sunlight managed to stream in just enough to give him a sense of time. Judging by the angle of the light, its intensity, and the amount duration, he figured that it was right about dinner time that the sun started to be too low to really illuminate the dungeon anymore.

Ugh. Thrulls. Reanimated heaps of flesh consisting mainly of a head and some cobbled arms:

(Mindstab Thrull: 5th Edition) (Art by Mark Tedin)

In they come, carrying their slopping buckets of soapy warm water, sponges, hair combs, and towels. Last night, shortly after Snatcher bound him in the anti-magic shackles and chained him against the wall, the thrulls came in to bathe him. When, naturally, he resisted, four more thrulls had to come in to restrain him. The memory of the feeling of their cold dead hands makes Kheve shiver.

He looks forlornly at Ellis, who has yet to wake up ever since Seeker tossed that glowing, pale blue, energy net over him. Kheve takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes tightly as the thrulls begin to undress him. It takes so much mental effort to keep himself from thrashing against them. Their work is unsettling enough as it is. But resisting only makes the water go cold and brings in bigger thrulls to hold him down with their awful haunting hands. His concentration breaks when they get to his privates. He kicks them off but quickly catches himself. After a few moments, Kheve forces himself to relax and the mindless thrulls continue their work.

Torture. Such extreme mental torture. These disgusting things were his only relief. Without them he couldn’t excrete, urinate, or even eat. Every moment of this was awful torture. He would make them pay. All of them.

The distant smell of steak wafts in from the window and Kheve’s stomach roars. So far they had feed him bread, cheese, a couple of sausage links, and sweet tasting water. Granted, as far as dungeons go, they have been treating him extraordinarily well. But the scent of grilling steak simply revitalized his will to escape. The first thing he was going to do when he finished escaping this place was find himself a cow, butcher it himself, and enjoy himself a steak the only way they’re meant to be eaten-medium rare.

(Pillarfield Ox: Zendikar) (Art by Andrew Robinson)

Lost in his thoughts, Kheve didn’t notice that the thrulls had left him already, clean and dry. But naked. Of everything except his shackles, of course. The biting cold of the dungeon immediately got him, racking him with powerful shivers. Just as he started cursing the thrulls for stealing his clothes another one walks in carrying what seems to be a shift of seal skin. Naturally, the shift had to be buttoned together in two pieces to prevent having to deal with the shackles. But this thrull was quick and nimble fingered. By the time it had left and slammed the door behind itself, Kheve was already starting to warm up.

Kheve heaves a sigh and gazes up at the window hoping that at least the bright light of Nyx would stream through. But it didn’t. They must not be on Theros. Only the smallest trickle of moonlight made its way down to the dungeon.

The slavers sit at the wide, hardwood, smooth, sealed table, with warm light from the chandelier above illuminating the room. The table could comfortably seat six people and leave just enough space between them and the walls for servants to easily tend to them

“Tom-Tom’s been adjusting the inhibitor collars to work with the Gruul captive’s powers, Dominique.” Taker says between bites of her grilled asparagus. “He should be done by morning.”

Dominique, their muscular, dark skinned, broad chested leader, downs his bite of steak with some wine, and says, “Janice, you really need to teach me sign language. You won’t always be around to translate for me.”

Tom-Tom huffs and frantically signs at Dominique.

“Absolutely right,” Janice says with a smirk, catching his signing.

“What did he say?” Dominique asks, brow furrowed.

She giggles. “If you knew sign language you would know what he said.”

“Not fair!”

The goblin snickers and signs Not fun for communication to be one-way, huh?

“That’s it.” Dominique says with a stern a face as he can manage, only half serious. “Janice. You are teaching me sign language. Starting tomorrow. That’s an order.”

Janice leans back against her chair and sips her wine, smirking. “I dunno. It’s fun watching you squirm.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?.” He says crossing his arms across his chest. “Two on one. I think I can take you.”

Tom-Tom and Janice send one quick glance at each other and both burst out laughing.

Funny. I could take you both. The goblin signs.

“Oh yeah? Tough guy?” Janice says with a grin. “Please. I could take Dominque out of the fight with a wink and smile and you with one hand behind my back.”

Dominique spreads his arms our to the side in exclamation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She intertwines the fingers of her hands, rests her head gently on them, and bats her eyelashes at him. “Nothing at all, pudding.”

The goblin snickers, nearly spewing forth his mashed potatoes. I wonder if he knows how he feels about you. I’m deaf and mute. But not blind.

Guess that means he’s just a fool then.

Janice and Tom-Tom grin at each other and give Dominique the most innocent face they can. Which isn’t really saying much.

Dominique rolls his eyes and cuts a piece off his steak, saying, “I’m serious about the sign language thing. Tomorrow. Yeah?”

She waves her hand dismissively and sighs, “Yeah yeah. We should have done this long ago.” Then she signs to Tom-Tom, If he would have had the balls to sit down in the same room with me one-on-one for more than five minutes we wouldn’t have this problem today.

Poor fool. Tom-Tom signs back. You should take him out on a date.

Even if I decided to humor him, he probably wouldn’t even know it was a date.

While Ellis, Thaclel, Marius, and Kheve contemplate their position in dungeon, Dominique, Janice, and Tom-Tom enjoy each other’s presence, neither aware that The Matriarch is on her way…

@confused-phyrexian @actualborossoldier @foilmountain @baldore-of-the-boros @vorthosthewillis @nantukohunk @verumlumen @askkrenko @animar-smol-of-elephants @inudono @jolly-ob-saint-nixilis @fogothefighter @brotwurst-lobby @obi-one-drop @yawgmoth-lord-of-sin @shorewall @triumviratethree

#a quest for vengeance #short story #fanwalker #ellis #kheve #story telling time #storytellingtime

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