#once I’ll be blessed with good skill to try other designs for him

[muwitch]

ye, him

[hiraethwrote]

Been thinking a lot lately about how Satoru doesn’t really cook.

Growing up the way he did, everyone was pulling from every direction, unloading immense responsibility on him because of the Six Eyes. So normalcy wasn’t in the cards for him.

From a young age, his schedule was packed from dusk to dawn with all kinds of tasks embedded on him. And so, dinner was simply a time of day for him more than anything else. He was served a mediocre dish, then he had to return to his responsibilities.

And then he moved to Tokyo, and was finally blessed with some newfound freedom. But he didn’t want to waste this spare time learning how to cook, especially when Jujutsu Tech served him perfectly okay meals three times a day. Who was he to not take advantage of such privilege?

Any interest of developing some culinary skills was also smothered by his insane sweet tooth. Something he’d picked up as a way to help him, quickly evolved into never ending munching — forget proper food.

Sadly for him, the number of responsibilities didn’t decrease as he entered adulthood — rather the opposite. And now, as he was technically a grown up, there was a lot less tolerance for nonsense. People expected things from him now.

Yet again, cooking dinner was deprioritised. He also didn’t see a reason to devote time to cook when it was so much easier to just have it delivered right on his doorstep. He had the means to support such an expensive luxury, so why not?

Sitting down by the dining table after a long day of duties, a warm meal welcoming him with delightful smells never even became something he missed, seeing as he didn’t know what it was he had sacrificed for choosing the easy path.

Then you came creeping into his life.

You in general, had been a surprise to say the least. After everything, pursuing anything romantic wasn’t something that had been on his list of priorities either. But once he met you, he couldn’t not try to make you his.

Everything escalated pretty quickly, and it was fairly early on that you decided you wanted to cook for him for the first time.

“I got some insane pasta cravings. You down for that tonight?” You had your phone resting between your shoulder and your cheek while you scanned the grocery isles for what you needed.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he answered on the other end of the line. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

You couldn’t help but giggle a little at his comment, a tiny bit confused by what he meant. “Well, duh. I’m not making two separate pasta dishes.”

“Oh,” a moment of silence from your boyfriend as the reality set in. “Yeah, no, of course. Just habit I guess,” smearing on with his usual, charismatic voice to play off his little slip.

Because poor Satoru had only assumed you would be ordering in, since it was all he really knew. The concept of prepping and cooking a dish from scratch hadn’t even crossed his mind.

A few hours later, the same usual comfort that came from your company, welcomed him along with an assortment of the most delicious smells once he arrived at your apartment.

“Ah, perfect timing,” you smiled, rushing to give him a small peck on the lips when he joined you in the kitchen before quickly hopping back to putting the finishing touches on dinner.

A small sensation of worry filled you, because this was the first time you had witnessed Satoru completely silent. Taking the time to turn your head over your shoulder to make sure he was alright, you saw his eyes just taking in the scenery of the set table and the somewhat messy kitchen.

“Just take a seat, Satoru,” you chuckled nervously, nodding in the direction of what had become his designated chair. “It’s almost ready.”

You saw a weak nod before he slowly shuffled over to the table and sat down. He swallowed the small lump in his throat when you put the casserole on the table in front of him.

“Dinner is served. But it’s hot, so just, be careful.”

When he didn’t move a muscle, you tried to act as if things were normal and served yourself first, hoping he would eventually tell you whatever it was that had gotten into him.

“Satoru?”

Your soft voice of concern snapped him back to reality, his familiar smile finding its way back to his expression — though he wasn’t truly himself quite yet.

“Looks absolutely delicious!” He gushed and finally filled his plate.

You continued to eye him with some suspicion as he started to dig in. Something you couldn’t put your finger on, washed over him when he took the first bite. Then another, and another, and another — then he was suddenly ogling you with the widest eyes you could remember seeing on him.

“This might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten!”

You pursed your lips to choke back the exaggerated laugh that was about to burst out at his statement, that you were convinced had to be a lie.

“Is that so?” You teased, carefully stepping deeper into the topic to see if he was actually being truthful.

“Babe, this-“ he cut himself off, awe overtaking him. “Where did you learn this?”

You shrugged casually. “I’ve just picked up a few things over the years, I guess.”

“What else can you make?”

“Uhm, I don’t know,” you stuttered, a little taken aback by his surprising enthusiasm to what you considered to just be a simple pasta dish. “Several things.”

“Could you please cook for me tomorrow? And whenever you have the time?”

“Of course,” you smiled, shoulders resting when he now seemed to be totally fine, finishing his first portion only to take yet another huge serving.

Because to Satoru, it was more than just dinner.

Dinner and eating had always just been yet another task he did simply because he knew he had to eat. Never had there been any deeper meaning to it — but you showed him it could definitely be more.

To him, it also became a sign of devotion. You were willing to put in the time and the work to make him something nice, then you would get to enjoy it together. No one had really done that for him before.

Finally it was Satoru's turn to enjoy the domesticity of something as mundane as a home cooked dinner.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[ninjagirlstar5]

Protag Teruya AU - Kokoro Mitsume Design

Kokoro, I love you, but you’re also kinda messed up, and LINUJ’s writing doesn’t really help. And I’m not saying that because people with alexithymia can’t be bad people because that would be ableist and puts people with that condition on a pedestal and almost “babies” them. It’s just the way LINUJ wrote her being a bad person because of her alexithymia and not because she chose to be a bad person is…*sighs* Yeah. I’ll try my best to write Kokoro, but it really depends on my skills and the research I’ve done. Especially since she’s the mastermind in the Protag Teruya AU.

Due to Kokoro being the mastermind, she’s not going to be a good person at all throughout the story. But I want to make it clear that she’s doing this because she wants to do it and not because of her alexithymia. And since she’s a Void, that means she met Utsuro when they were both children so she’s about the same age as Teruya. I’m not completely sure what kind of Fortune Utsuro blessed her with, I just know for sure that she only gets blessed once compared to Mikado since I don’t think there would be a reason as to why Kokoro would see him again except for that one time. But the best one I could think of is one that allows her to read and judge people’s emotions better than anyone else so she could help her mother with her research better. She still needs to collect data and the context of the situation in order to understand why someone reacts the way they do, but otherwise she’s skilled enough to come across as a mind-reader. And she only improved over time with her studies as a psychologist, trying to understand cognitive, emotion, and social behaviors by observing, interpreting, and recording how people relate to others and their environment. She deals with it very objectively, though, and can come off as quite distant due to her difficulty in expressing emotions. She still can’t easily identify or describe her own emotions like other people can. The best one she can confidently identify is curiosity but other emotions need a bit more context clues and are dependent on how strong they are for her to understand what kind of emotion she’s feeling at the moment. Nonetheless, her Fortune allowed her to be in a position that improved her relationship with her mother…supposedly. She’s been pursuing her mother’s research for most of her life as it’s all she has left of her and it’s the only thing she knows she’s good at. And it’s not like she doesn’t want to do it either. It’s something she’s become…passionate about. And she will do anything to complete that research.

But first, she has to revive Utsuro. Because without that Fortune, she may lose her edge in psychology and it’s bad enough that the members in the lab that are significantly older than her don’t really like taking orders from someone so much younger than them. The only reason they follow her is because her skills are clearly above theirs and the data and research she puts out in the field of psychology makes her a fantastic asset as someone to guide the other lab members in their own studies as they work together. If she loses that Fortune, someone may notice the dip in quality in her psychology work and usurp her, preventing her from continuing her mother’s project as she was only able to access it as the boss of the lab. She can’t let that happen. She refuses to let that happen. And if it means starting a killing game underneath the lab and doing it behind everyone’s backs, she will do it.

As for her relation to Mikako, I’m thinking that Kokoro and Mikako are siblings but I can’t decide if I want to make them fraternal twins or make Kokoro about two years older than Mikako. Either way, that connection is still there. But it’s still quite…fragmented, I guess you can say.

As for her design, since she’s about the same age as Teruya and Mikako (at least before she, you know, died), I used her teenage self as a base but changed her clothes and hairstyle to show how different she is compared to her teenage self. AI!Mikado had a slight change in appearance with his cape and glitchy appearance so I thought it’d be fitting to show what Kokoro really looks like as a young adult. Since she took over her mother���s lab, she has to keep up the appearance of a professional psychologist, so no sweatpants, slippers and tank tops for her. She tries to accommodate for this by having a loose appearance that still looks professional, with her hair tied up, a vest, Mary Janes, a long skirt and a bow tie. And of course, the lab coat she wears almost everywhere. Because she’s so hard at work with her research and such, she also has bags underneath her eyes to show that she’s not nearly getting enough sleep as she should.

I’m hoping to write Kokoro well as the mastermind without making it ableist, and I think these concepts are a good start. It’s just a matter of whether or not I can execute these well. But if anyone has any pointers with these ideas and critiques about them, I’m open to hearing them. I want to write this as respectfully as possible, after all.

The Protag Teruya AU was inspired by @/anotherprofessional’s post! Beware of Void spoilers though!

[tllgrrl]

A Dash of This, A Dash of That: A follow-up to “A Pinch of This, A Pinch of That”

Bucky can actually cook.

If he’d tried that “I only have one arm. I’m gonna need someone to cook for me” shit with Ayo…let’s just say it took one look from her to make sure he never thought of trying it.

He may have been out of his head, but he wasn’t that far out of his head.

And there was no way Shuri…or Queen Ramonda herself…or T’Challa (Blessed be his memory)…would have allowed a grown-assed man to be treated like a baby for 2 months, let alone for 2 whole years.

In Wakanda, once he started to get his head back and got used to having one arm, part of his recovery was work, and he got to work making himself useful to himself, and to the community that welcomed him.

In addition to offering his supersoldier strength when needed around the village, one of the other ways he made himself useful was cooking not only for himself, but also for the community when called upon to help.

Or simply as a way to say Thank You, like when the garden he had on his plot of land yielded more produce than he could eat by himself, he would harvest it, put it on a cart, and go around to his neighbors offering fresh vegetables, and goat milk from his small herd.

Bucky made himself useful as part of his recovery.

Cooking, however, wasn’t exactly a priority after The Great Return from The Snap.

He had other things to deal with living in the States, back in Brooklyn: a trial and subsequent pardon for his Winter Soldier captivity, mandated scheduled therapy appointments for who knows how long, amends to be made, and basically staying off the radar, hoping to maybe someday return to Wakanda to live out the rest of his over-extended life.

Then, in the middle of John Walker/Flagsmashers/Zemo and everything else designed to upend his plans to lay low, he met Sam Wilson’s sister Sarah and her 2 boys…and along with flirting, his cooking skills also started to resurface in Delacroix, Louisiana.

Of course he’s not as good at cooking as Sarah, but between what basics he learned from his Ma, then from his time in the Ilizwe lomama (aka The Homeland aka Wakanda), and now spending time in the kitchen with Sarah…and also watching YouTube videos, and being immersed in the vaguely familiar flavors of Creole and Soul Food cooking of Southern Louisiana…he’s improving.

And one of the results is…

Sam goes in for his third helping of collards, and all eyes at the dinner table are on him. He looks up from the serving dish.

“What…?”

Sarah looks from Sam to Bucky, whose eyebrows are threatening to invade his hairline.

“Momma!!” Cass and AJ point at Sam.

“Uncle Sam’s gonna eat all the greens,” AJ grumbles, dropping his hand, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms.

“Yeah! Too bad there’s not gonna be any left.” Cass says, looking at Sam with the biggest Puppy In The Rain eyes ever, while AJ gives Sam the Cyborg Stare & Squint he picked up from his Uncle Bucky.

“Sam!” Sarah laughs. “We want seconds, too! Save some for the rest of us, please!”

“Listen. I don’t know what you did this time, but this right here? You put your ankle in it! Cass, AJ, come on, get some of this.”

He dishes up some collards onto each of the boys’ plates.

“And you,” he side-eyes the supersoldier, “are a bad influence on these kids. Got AJ up in here doing your Terminator Stare thing. I’ll just have some more of that mac and cheese instead. Sarah, you want some more? Buck?”

“I’m good,” Bucky grins. “I’m going back in on the chicken, though. It’s delicious, Sarah.”

“Me, too!” both boys chime in. “I’ll have some more mac and cheese, too!!” says Cass, rubbing his hands together like he’s seen his Uncle Sam do when food is yummy.

“Sis, your greens usually taste like Nana June’s and Mama’s with a little sumpt’-sumpt’ secret that you won’t share with me. There’s something different about these, though. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but they’re delicious. Next time, you need to double up that recipe!”

Sarah glances over at Bucky, who is busying himself with his piece of chicken. He glances up at Sarah, then at Sam, then back down at his own plate, smiling to himself.

Sam picks up his glass of sweet tea. “I think everyone should thank the person who fixed tonight’s dinner.”

“Thanks, Momma!”

“Thanks, Sarah.” Sam says, raising his glass to her.

“Thanks, Sarah.” Bucky takes her hand and kisses it, then raises his glass.

Then Sarah raises her own glass. “You’re welcome. And I’d like to say a special Thank You to the person responsible for the greens. Thank you, James.”

“Wow! Cool! Thanks Uncle Bucky!” Cass and AJ chatter with excitement, peppering him with questions:

“What else can you cook?”

“Who taught you how to cook, Uncle Bucky?”

“Did you cook way back in the Old Timey days?”

Bucky chuckles at their enthusiastic curiosity. “Thanks, fellas! You really like ‘em?”

“Yeah!” the boys say in unison.

Sam, still holding the serving spoon and dish, just sits there, unable to process what he's just heard.

“Hey, I thought staring was my thing” Bucky grins as Sam glares at him.

“You…cooked these greens?” Sam says looking at Bucky, then at Sarah, then back at Bucky.

“Yes, I did, Samuel. You’re welcome. I’m glad you like them,” he deadpans.

“And you actually seasoned them! I mean, this isn’t just salt and pepper. This…this is…”

“A special blend I made with spices from��� Wait. What? Why are you surprised? I was in Wakanda for 2 years. Do you think I was on a vacation? That I had people cooking for me and waiting hand and foot on a grown man perfectly capable of—

Sarah, tell your brother that I…I know about seasoning, Sam!”

“Sam. Come on, now.” she chuckled. “Of course he had learn how to—“

“Oh! So, he spent a little time in Wakanda and he came back Spice Panther?!” Sam laughs, pleased with his joke.

Sarah and Bucky look at each other, then at Sam, and together declare:

“Actually…it’s Spice Wolf.”

Cass and AJ both giggle as Sarah and Bucky chuckle and continue to enjoy the meal.

Sam stares at them both…and puts the rest of the greens onto his own plate.

[qianinterprises]

Among the Horses {Part One}

Pairing: farm boy!Jaehyun x female!Reader

Other Characters: OC's, Haechan (sorta, kinda, not really), Renjun (sorta, kinda, not really)

Genre: fluff, angst, country au, farmboys and lady's au, falling in love, slow burn, friends to lovers

Warnings: verbally abusive aunt, yelling, degrading (not the fun kind)

Word Count: 3.8k

Overall Synopsis: Being sent to live with your aunt isn't exactly something wonderful, especially because she's verbally abusive and downright determined to turn you into a "proper lady" who a wealthy man will want to marry. However, perhaps living there won't be so bad. After all, you've got a handsome farm boy teaching you to ride horses.

Part One Synopsis: Arriving at your aunts is very challenging and trying. After being put through the ringer with your attire, you finally get a chance to explore the green world, and spend more time with the farm boy who'd picked you up from the airport.

Author's Notes: So I started this a while ago and didn't really do anything with it, but I love it and I really wanna write more so yeah... Also, I've posted this on a03 as well.

Tagging: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @hwangful

A white, dirty pick-up truck pulled off the main road and onto a long, winding dirt road, leading them closer to a grand house that you had only been to a few times in your life. The place you’d be living for the next year or two.

The truck bumped along the loose gravel, crashing over potholes, sending you bouncing on the very worn cloth of the cab, your eyes glancing worriedly to the male beside you, one of his hands planted firmly on the hard steering wheel, the other loosely placed on the stick shifter in the center of the bench.

“Are you sure the tires won’t… fall off?” your voice was thick and laiden with worry.

He glanced over at you, warm brown eyes gazing intently into yours, the opticals flecked with curiosity and amusement. Embarrassment crept under your skin.

“You haven’t been out here in awhile? Have you miss?” he asked, tone filled with friendly amusement.

You awkwardly scratched at your nose, a bit of a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years.

“No. My parents never had the money to travel.”

Your voice was small, etched in nervousness and anxiety.

He cast you a gentle smile as he pulled the truck around a sharp curve in the road, and there it was.

The house was huge, at least three stories high and stretched across the land it was perched upon. The foundation red brick that looked freshly cleaned (it probably had been), a contrast to the pearly white of the rest of the structure. The curves and contours of the slightly oddly shaped house made it more enchanting and nerve-wracking, especially as you grew closer, tires hitting the smooth cement before your driver moved the shifter and parked the truck.

“Head on in, miss, I’ll get your bags.”

His accent was a combination of Asian mixed with southern, an odd mix that somehow seemed so delicately smooth and perfect, especially the way he drawled over the “r’s”

“Miss?”

You’d been stuck in your thoughts, eyes wide as you surveyed the prospects of your new home.

“Right, yes, thank you,” you said softly, moving to get out, the door creaking as it was opened.

Your black, falling apart sneakers hit the tan pavement of the driveway, the hooks of your overalls rattling loosely against your torso as they accommodated your movements; the loose denim legs falling just above your knees as you pushed the dingy door closed.

The male you’d ridden with, Jaehyun, he said his name was, pulled the latch of the truck bed and reached up to grab your mismatched luggage, his sturdy frame pressing into the hot metal of the truck.

“Do you need some help?”

Your voice was small, mixed with worry and hesitation.

You’d do just about anything to prolong the inevitable.

“That’s quite alright, miss,” he began. “You should head on inside. The heat is a harsh place for a lady,” he answered.

You looked down, playing with your fingers, but you didn’t reply. Instead, slowly moving toward the brick steps that would lead to the entrance of the beautiful home.

~

Anina Lee was a strict lady. She liked things just a certain way and she got them how she wanted. She didn’t tolerate bad behavior or disobedience. And she had a strong dislike for people that got in her way. Thus, she had never been married.

She lived alone, if you count having two live-in maids, a chef, and a stable hand that slept in the barn as living alone.

Alina was your aunt. Your mother’s elder sister who had alienated your mother when she’d married a man of lower class. That same man later had a wife who blessed him with three kids to care for, spending his days fixing the cars of those more fortunate than him, hoping to make a buck for his family.

That’s why you were here. A young girl, coming of age to be married off and starting a family of your very own. Your family couldn’t support you any longer, and as you prepared to move away in hopes of finding some sort of job or a life, your aunt had hastlessly offered to take you in. Your mother had all too happily obliged, hoping her only and eldest daughter would learn a thing or two from the elder woman, maybe turn you into the lady your mother and father had tried for years to make you.

The stainless white door slowly opened and an older woman stood in the frame. She was clearly in her 50s, stress lines drawn thickly in her forehead, wrinkles in the corners of her dull gray eyes, deep lines around her nose and mouth, her neck sagging just a little beneath her sharp jaw. She was a small lady. On first glance one may have a hard time understanding what makes her so fierce. She was small in stature, small in size and in frame, but she had the tongue of a snake, the heart of a lioness, and the skill of a chimp.

“(Y/N)! You’re finally here!”

You stood a good few inches taller than the woman, but that made you more nervous if anything. You made her way up the steps and, as you reached the woman in the door, you were promptly pulled into a proper hug that severely lacked warmth.

“I can’t believe you got on a plane and sat amongst all those people in that ghastly attire. You must change at once!”

The woman’s voice was so shrill it could pierce glass, but you held back the flinch.

“Martha!” the same voice called into the house as she pulled you in, shutting the door and encompassing them in the cool air conditioning.

A larger lady appeared, dressed in stained blue jeans and an ugly yellow shirt.

“Please show my niece to her room and help her change into something more… feminine and lady-like,” her aunt’s voice commanded.

“When you’re finished dear, have Martha show you to my study.”

There was no endearing term in the word “dear.” Simply an icy addition to a perfectly manicured sentence.

You watched your aunts receding form, pencil skirt tight on her legs, black heels sharply hitting the hardwood intimidatingly.

“Come with me, dear. Let’s get you changed,” the larger lady spoke softly.

She was older, maybe 60 or so, her skin dark tan, although you couldn’t tell if it was the sun or her natural skin pigmentation. Her voice was grainy, but soft and endearing. Motherly she’d dare say. And you thought that this woman may actually make living here bearable.

You followed the lady up the grand staircase, up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway until you reached the end. The lady pushed open the thick white door and stepped inside, you following her closely.

Inside, the room was surprisingly rustic. A simple, full-sized bed with an obviously homemade comforter thrown across it. A light gray plush rug beside the bed. The hardwood floors were surprisingly and delightfully bare. One large section of the wall was home to a large bay window that stretched from the ceiling to the plush gray cushion of the bench. There were a few flower paintings and other pointless nicknacks scattered on obsolete surfaces around the room, but you paid no mind to them as your attention was drawn to the lady opening the large mahogany grand dresser and plucking out two cloths.

She unfolded both neatly, placing them on the bed and you sighed. The skirt was long and pleated, patterns of red and white stretched in an annoying kaleidoscope arrangement across the nearly pointless garment and the white shirt appeared to be partly transparent.

“Go ahead and get changed dear, I’ll help you when you finish,” she said kindly and turned her back.

You waited for her to leave the room but it was apparent she had no intention to. Awkwardly, you began unhooking the straps of your overalls, letting the fabric clang to the floor. Your skin heated up, feeling all too exposed before sliding into the skirt, the itchy elastic clinging to your hips uncomfortably. You pulled your stained blue t-shirt off, swapping it for the crisp white one that you feared you’d stain in the next few moments.

The lady turned around, her wide hips bumping into the dresser slightly. The dresser was sturdy enough not to jostle, but it was obvious the corner was sharp and painful. You almost felt bad at the way the lady’s face winced, but it was quickly pushed away as calloused hands began gripping the delicate skin of your arms, squeezing along the skin up your arms.

She tsked and turned around, rummaging through the dresser once again, only to turn around with a black, light cardigan.

You gawked. Why on earth would you wear that atrocious thing in this weather? It was the middle of August! Not December!

“I know. But if your aunt were to see your arms, she’d have a fit. She probably still will,” she said.

You sighed. Your aunt hadn’t changed one bit. Your skin was fragile. The tops of your forearms lightly tanned, a pigment passed on from your father. The rest of your arms and body entirely was light. Lady’s should be gorgeously sunkissed to be beautiful and to be taken seriously.

With a huff, you put on the long black sleeves, the intricately designed cotton draping over your shoulders perfectly. But that didn’t mean it was any more comfortable. You could already feel the added heat seeping onto your skin. You’d be sweaty and uncomfortable soon.

“Now let’s do something about your feet.”

You looked down; your worn socks had holes all through them, mud permanently stained to the sweaty fabric.

Bustling from the room, you were left stunned in the wake of the surprisingly fast woman, watching her round the corner and disappear down the hall to fetch something to apparently “fix your feet.”

You thought you’d do something to speed along the process. The more time spent getting you dressed in these ridiculous clothes, the less time you had to explore the outside world. You made your way to the bay window, taking a seat on the plush cushion that accommodated you nicely. You pressed your back against the edge of the wall and turned your gaze to the picturesque green world filled with surprisingly lush looking grass, dips and hills along the valley, and the tops of trees further off in the distance. All this land was yours for the roaming. You couldn’t wait to get out those doors and go exploring.

The sound of water sloshing in a pot brought your attention back from the window, glancing curiously as the large lady placed the pot down in front of the window.

“Put your feet in.”

You didn’t argue. You were hesitant, but thought better than to argue and have your aunt boil you alive in this pot.

As soon as your dingy, dirty, mud pasted feet hit the water, you hissed. The temperature felt that it could boil the skin right off.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s hot, but your aunt is expecting you down soon and I have to do this as quickly as possible,” the lady said.

Grabbing your left foot, she picked the appendage up from the water along with a suds coated dish sponge and began mercilessly scrubbing away at the tender flesh. You whined and howled, tears pricking to your eyes as your skin was scrubbed and abused by the harsh bristles of the brush. You attempted to yank your foot away, but the tight grip on your ankle prevented much movement. You were stuck suffering as the skin became reddened from the irritation.

~

As soon as the painful experience came to a close, your now pink feet were dried with a towel before being slid into a pair of eccentrically beaded, golden strapped sandals that accentuated the rest of the over-the-top outfit nicely.

“You seem presentable enough now, although I’m sure the mistress of the house would have a few unkind things to say about your wild mane.”

You tried not to take offense. You liked your hair. It was an untamed mop that curved wildly carefree, blowing in the breeze that picked up the thick tufts.

“Thank you for your help ma’am.”

She bowed at the waist, a kind smile on her lips.

“No need for the ma’am dear. Call me Martha, or Mrs. Rivera if you must.”

And with no more haste, Martha Rivera led you back down the grand staircase to the bottom floor, the tight flats biting at your heels and ankles with every step you took, fighting off the winces that followed. You rounded a few sharp corners, venturing into a large sitting room with an extravagant flat screen high on the wall and couches that looked brand new. Through a dining room, table decorated with a sequined bronze cloth and the finest China you’d ever seen, although that wasn’t really a stretch. Finally, they made it to a large oak door, cracked just enough that you could see your aunt’s silhouette sitting behind an elegant red desk, glasses perched on her nose, pen in hand, eyes married to the computer screen. Mrs. Rivera left you by the door, and you almost spun on your heel and walked away. But of course, that would be too easy.

“Come in child. Stop standing in the doorway.”

Your blood froze in your veins. You pushed the door open and stolled in, tripping over the lion skin rug, stumbling a bit before catching your balance. Harsh wisps of breath rushed past your aunt's lips and the chair creaked as the weight lifted from it.

You straightened your back, staring fearfully into the cold gray eyes that trailed over your face and down your clothes.

The woman began moving slowly around you, manicured nails and boney fingers tracing over the outline of your clothes and jaw, running through your wild mane and down your hands, inspecting the bitten off nails. As she walked, she muttered things like “hair won’t do” and “horrible posture” before she stood back in front of you.

“You simply won’t do,” she said sternly.

The words hit hard. You may have been expecting something like this, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

“You look like you’ve been sleeping with the horses. Your nails are pitiful. Your skin is far too light.”

She gripped your jaw, tilting your head up harshly to expose your still slightly chubby neck.

“Can you ride a horse?”

The question was sudden and it caught you off guard, but you answered as quickly as your brain would allow.

“N-no. I’ve never ridden before.”

The woman sighed loudly, hot puffs of air pouring out of her flared nostrils.

“That’ll have to change. Starting tomorrow, you will be taking riding lessons from the stable boy. Every lady should have the basic skills of riding,” her tone was cold and brisk as she looked away and perched back at her desk.

“You’re dismissed. Dinner is at 6. Don’t be late. You may roam the grounds.”

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed her niece and immediately went back to work, not bating another eyelash as you fled hastlessly from the room, your eyes welling with tears as stress and fear washed over you, although more relieved that it was over and you could finally do something for yourself. You’d start by ditching these God forsaken shoes.

You made your way around the back door of the house, more by pure necessity than memory, simply logically thinking the best way around in the expansive flooring. When you made it, a smile broke across your face as you unfastened the painful shoes, kicking them off in a sloppy jumble by the door before opening the heavy door, the heat of the afternoon hitting your face, not that you minded.

As you stepped out, bare feeting meeting hot cement, you stripped the cardigan from your shoulders, draping it over a random, sun baked chair. You tore off through the grass, laughing giddily, breeze blowing wisps of your hair, skirt fluttering delicately over your skin. It would be difficult to do anything in the blasted thing, but you wouldn’t give yourself enough time to strip down into something better, opting to enjoy the last of the day while you could. And you’d start in the bright red barn your eyes immediately fell on.

~

Making your way through the soft grass that squished under the weight of your feet, you strolled into the half open barn, the soft snorts of animals bringing a smile to your lips. Just because you couldn’t ride, doesn’t mean you didn’t love the animals. You loved horses especially. They were such beautiful and majestic creatures. You’d always wanted a horse, but your family had never been able to afford one. You’d always wanted to ride, and now you could, although you didn’t understand why it was so important to your aunt.

The cool concrete felt rough beneath your feet, stray straws of hay littering the floor. It could have been a picture straight out of one of the Country Living magazines you’d kept hidden away at your parents home.

The first horse you came upon was a tall brown animal, head hung over the stall door, ears perked to attention, eyes trained on the new invader inside the barnhouse. He snorted at you and his hoof hit the barn door lightly in an attempt at getting closer. You stepped closer, slowly offering your hand out, letting the animal sniff searchingly.

“He’s looking for some sugar cubes.”

The voice came out of nowhere, interrupting your serenity, a yelp leaving your lips as your whole body jolted in the sudden fright.

You turned your head to the barn door where your driver was standing, taunt arms crossed over a broad chest, veiled from prying eyes by a lightweight flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His long legs were clad in dusty denim, mud and hay from his knees to the tops of the worn work boots.

“I’m sorry. I just like horses-”

“And you thought you’d come visit them?” he finished your sentence.

You immediately began shuffling your feet, eyes turning back to study the fading paint on the stall to keep from facing him.

Heavy footsteps hit the floor as the male moved closer until he was close enough to touch. His large, rough hand gripped your wrist lightly, bringing it up toward him. You let out a little yelp, riddled with confusion and curiosity until three small blocks were placed in your palm.

“Hold your palm out to him and don’t jerk away,” he spoke calmly, slowly urging you.

You nodded, having some sort of unkempt trust in his words as you turned back to the animal and extended your arm, palm flat, cubed sugar offered to the horse, who greedily munched them right out of your hands.

“His name’s Haechan. He’s a bit of a character.”

You nodded, drawing your now horse-slobbered hand away, opting to stroke the animal's fur from his nose to between his eyes.

“That’s an interesting name,” you said.

He hummed behind you and you heard his boots hitting the concrete as he moved away.

“Do you like animals?” he asked.

You spun around, eyes wide and shining.

“Yes! I love them! Sometimes I prefer animals over humans!”

His smile was gentle as he surveyed your physique, a dusty pink tinting his cheeks, although you thought nothing of it.

“Come on, I want to show you something,”he said, walking past you to the opposite exit of the barn.

You followed close behind, curious as to where he was taking her. Your feet fell back onto the grass, the long blades sliding between your toes as you followed in his wake. As they walked, a white picket fence came into view, not far from the barn, but oddly well hidden beneath the crest of a hill rolling through the land. Once you reached the fence, his hands curled around the boards, hoisting himself up, foot balanced on the bottom board as he climbed up, throwing a leg over one side, then the other, and jumping down. You stared at him in awestruck confusion.

“Climb over, I’ll catch you on this side.”

You didn’t know why you blindly trusted him. You didn’t know him from a random stranger in the town, but you complied, placing your foot onto the same board he had, pulling yourself up and swinging a leg over, then another. The skirt snagged in the boards a few times, one of your feet nearly slipping off the boards as you attempted to keep it pushed down. This proved to be more of a challenge as you balanced on your heels, hands clutching the top piece of wood as you contemplated how to get down now. That is, until his arms outstretched, slightly bent at the elbow, fingers parted, palms facing one another, and you knew what he wanted you to do. Taking a deep breath, you pushed off with your left foot, hands releasing your grip on the fence, letting yourself drop, eyes squeezing in slight fear that you’d soon flop hard against the green earth. But when strong hands caught your waist, arms drawing you in, broad chest breaking your fall, you braced herself against him, feet carefully being lowered until they pressed back into the earth.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

His teasing tone had you pulling away, glaring playfully at him before turning and pretending to walk away, leaving him in your path.

At least, until you heard a rustling in the long grass inside the fence.

You squeaked as it grew closer taking a step back as your harsh gaze followed the rustling of the grass, positive a snake would wrap itself around your leg as it dug its venomous fangs into your soft flesh.

Needless to say, you were in for quite a shock when the small head of a brown and white calf popped up from the grass.

And you were sinking to your knees.

The calf moved toward your lowered body, sniffing at your arms until you reached out to run a hand down it’s small head and back, cooing quietly, eyes brimming with unfiltered delight as you wrapped your arms around the baby, stroking the fur of its back lovingly.

“This is Renjun. He’s my little cousin's calf.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. Your cooes of joy were enough to show every emotion you were currently feeling.

Horrible aunt or not. You could certainly find worse places to be trapped. At least here you had rolling hills of green, beautiful animals to fawn over, and Jaehyun, handsome stableboy who you couldn’t wait to get to know.

[script-nef]

I come for the interaction and the food | Miya Osamu

Category: crack, fluff

2k words; pseudo-reddit thread of Onigiri Miya

The owner of Onigiri Miya

Yo dudes. So my friend was raving about the onigiri shop for ages, and she was so damn relentless that I gave in. And I like onigiri in the first place, especially negitoro, so I went (is this TMI?). Anyway I was like???? So damn shook when I went in because the owner is like???? Damn??? He's so hot and I am simping for him, and the female population in the shop was as well like hearts were flying out of their eyes. I'm going to go there every day and ugh I know it’s cheesy and cliché but I hope he notices me or something like that DON’T JUDGE I’M LONELY OKAY??

Comments [Anon]: I KNOW RIGHT LIKE EVERYONE IS IN LOVE WITH HIM AND HIS ONIGIRI UGH FOOD FOR THE EYES AS WELL AS THE STOMACH

[Anon]: Y’all are simping for a real person and I just have to say: LMAO ME TOO UGH HE’S JUST REALLY HOT AND PATIENT AND HIS VOICE IS SO NICE  

[Anon]: YASSS HE REALLY IS AND HE ALWAYS COMES UP WITH NEW MENUS AND LETS SOME OF US TRY SAMPLES BUT IT’S ALWAYS. AMAZING. HE’S AN ONIGIRI GOD, I TELL YOU.

→ Continue thread

[Anon]: Um, OP? I don't know how to tell you this but… He has a girlfriend… like a really cute girlfriend who he’s been dating for years now.

[Anon]: Say what?

[Anon]: Hey what. What. I didn’t know this. I’ve been visiting his shop for like 3 months and I didn’t know this. What. 

[OP]: Oh. Great. My romance has died even before it started. ;^;

[Anon]: Well you can join us obsessing over their relationship! She visits a lot and they’re cute all the damn time so frequent customers made a small online group to share episodes. 

→ Continue thread

I just saw Hime and wow, damn

So I went to OM today—because wow it’s so delicious please open a second shop MyaSamu—and my eyes were blessed because WHO DID I SEE?? YEP, IT WAS HIME. 

Like y’all know how he calls her Hime as a nickname, which is so [censored] cute, and SHE LIVES UP TO THE NAME. There’s like, a graceful aura around her and it’s sort of blinding? As soon as you see her, it’s like “Ah, yep. That’s her. No one else can be called Hime other than her.” 

AND SHE GOT SO FLUSTERED WHEN I CALLED HER HIME BY ACCIDENT!! It just literally slipped out because I’m a [censored] idiot like that and she turned so red! And started hitting MyaSamu out of embarrassment! But her hits didn’t even look that painful and he was smiling so happily. My eyes were blessed that day.

Comments [Anon]: Oh my god you’re so lucky, I want to see him smile… I mean, he does, but apparently he smiles differently when he’s with Hime and I know that if I see that, my day will instantly become better.

[Anon]: Oh dude, you are not wrong. He somehow becomes more radiant. Just. How?

[Anon]: Imagine being that cute and beautiful together. What a power couple.

[Anon]: You know what happened once? I was really down while I was eating there because I got a bad grade, and she came over to talk to me!! Because apparently I looked way too sad and she was worried about me! UGH I’M FALLING FOR YOU HOW ARE YOU THIS KIND?! ARE YOU AN ACTUAL ANGEL?

[Anon]: This just confirmed, Hime was never human. She is the epitome of angelic grace here to save us and MyaSamu is so blessed for being with her.

Y’all are weird as [censored], why do you do this [censored]

Why are you guys obsessing over real people like that? I would be creeped out if I knew anyone does this, you guys are invading their privacy. Get a life and stop being so damn disturbing.

Comments [Anon]: ??? He knows about this. He literally checks up on this site a couple of times per week. He explicitly said to many customers “Thanks for liking me and my girlfriend so much. You guys are funny.” The [censored] are you on?

[Anon]: I asked Hime once before and she said it’s fine as well unless we’re stalking them or some [censored] like that. And we don’t. We’re just exchanging stories on our interactions with them inside the shop and how cute they are. He said it actually helps with his revenues and sales. 

[Anon]: Literally. They’re just really cute. Like you look at them and boom, you have diabetes, no exceptions.

[Anon]: I think he said like half of his new customers came after seeing this thread, so back off

Ignore that person, GUESS WHO I SAW

Y’all might be thinking Hime, and yes, I did see her as well. BUT I ALSO SAW ATSUMU! He was hanging with Hime and teasing her so much. Then MyaSamu got annoyed and they nearly brawled there lmao perfect representation of siblings.

Hime tried to stop them and when they kept on fighting, she slapped them both on the back and shouted for them to cool it. MyaSamu I guessed since they’re going out, but she tamed Atsumu. Atsumu. My heart thumped because she was so awesome. Like, you’re cool, kind, sweet, amazingly pretty and on top of that, badass as well? Lady, you should be designated as a national treasure.

Comments [Anon]: Bruh. I live super close to OM. I go there practically every week. I’ve filled out the coupon like, 5 times. I’ve never met Hime once. AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT YOU SAW HIME AS WELL AS ATSUMU???? WHY HAVE THE GODS FORSAKEN ME??

[Anon]: How cool was she? I can’t imagine Atsumu folding to anyone that’s not his parents.

[Anon]: I feel like he would be rude to his own parents tho lol

[Anon]: True true

[OP]: She was like, the epitome of cool. Based on the sound of the slap I would have been rolling on the floor while crying in pain but they kind of seem used to it or something? She just glowered at them and they immediately shut up. I wonder if she was like that when they started dating as well.

[Anon]: I find it funny that everyone is focusing on Hime while Miya Atsumu, division 1 volleyball player and one of the members of Japan’s national team, is right there.

[Anon]: Atsumu pales in comparison to Hime. This is a fact.

[Samu]: True

[Anon]: ??? The [censored]? Are my eyes working? Is that… actually Osamu? As in like, the Osamu that we’re talking about? Like the owner of OM?

[Samu]: Yes

[Anon]: Okay then bye I’m never coming here ever again. Goodbye y’all and watch me die haha [censored]

Friend of Samu and “Hime”

I can’t really believe this actually exists but it’s really funny and kinda cringey to see everyone fawn over Osamu and “Hime” like this. I've been their friend since high school and let me give you a fact: “Hime”’s nickname during her time in school was Janus like the two faced God. Because she’s really nice all the time but once she gets angry, it’s over for everyone. Everyone. 

So what do y’all do here, just share stories?

Comments [Anon]: Holy [censored] what. What. CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT THEM?? WHAT WERE THEY LIKE IN SCHOOL? WERE THEY STILL CUTE AND SWEET LIKE THE BEST BRAND OF CHOCOLATE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD????

[Anon]: YEAH LIKE WHITE CHOCOLATE

[Anon]: I’m sorry, but if you think white “chocolate” is good then please keep that [censored] to yourself because that [censored] embarrassing.

[Anon]: White chocolate is good!

[Anon]: You’re an embarrassment to humankind.

→ Continue thread

[Anon]: As the person on the above thread has said, could you share little stories of how they were like in school? If they’re fine with it?

[OP]: Hmm… well I’ll ask first. 

I got the permission

Hm, I don’t really know what to say about their relationship though. I was friends with them for a long while but it wasn’t really surprising when they started dating. Osamu’s liked her for years. I heard they were childhood friends and were stuck at the hip with Atsumu as well, but she was closer to Osamu. Though that’s kind of a given, what with Atsumu’s [censored] personality.

She was one of the school council members and really popular as well. Always eager to help people, has a smile on her face and a complete disaster. She’s so damn clumsy and uncoordinated that I once saw her trip on air. On air. How. She’s terrible at cooking as well, like apocalyptic level. She somehow managed to burn rice in home economics class even with three other people keeping an eye on her. It was actually pretty impressive.

Anyway, Osamu was absolutely smitten with her and everyone with eyes or common sense could see it. Except for… you guessed it, her. He would literally be tripping over himself to help her and we were all like “boy, please be more subtle you are killing us”. Especially Atsumu since he had to deal with that even at home because they’re neighbours. I once took a photo of him making the most disgusted and annoyed face, but it got deleted when I changed my phone. An international loss.

Where was I going with this? Oh right, how they went out. I gotta go to sleep so I’ll post that later.

Comments [Anon]: ???? YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THAT??? HOW ARE YOU SO CRUEL THIS ISN’T FAIR I CAN’T GO TO SLEEP BECAUSE I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.

[Anon]: EXCUSE ME ARE YOU SKILLED IN TORTURE BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY DYING YOU CAN’T JUST BOUNCE AFTER TELLING US THAT. COME BACK!!!!

[Anon]: Dudes I have a good idea. Let’s spam them with comments.

[Anon]: Oh ho, smart, smart. 

[Anon]: Dude

[Anon]: Dude

[Anon]: Dude

[Anon]: Dude

[Anon]: Dude

[Anon]: Dude

[Anon]: Dude

[Anon]: Dude

LOAD MORE

Damn you guys are persistent

Chill, I need my sleep as well. 

Alright, this was a while ago so some facts might be inaccurate. Also she forbade anyone from commenting on it during school. It’s fine now though, and thankfully I was sitting next to them when it happened.

So Osamu always brings bentos and makes hers as well. He used to make them for Atsumu as well (unwillingly but had to since he complained about it so much) but stopped after like, the second time because they got into a fight. I think the reason was that Atsumu was whining too much about how he doesn’t like some of the side-dishes and Osamu snapped. That was a fun day.

We were eating in the classroom and enjoying our lunch when she blurted out something like “Osamu, you’re so good at cooking! You’d be a great chef. Your wife would want to let you cook for the entire time you’re together!” Which was fine because everyone knows he’s good at cooking. I think that’s what you guys call a gap moe or something, I dunno.

And Osamu just stared at her. You know what moment when you just feel something bad is going to happen? Like that chill in your back? Yeah, it was that. I sensed that from Osamu. Atsumu probably got it as well because our eyes locked and the red alarm of “STOP HIM” flashed in front of both our eyes.

But before we could interrupt, Osamu just smiled and said “I can cook for you like that if you want.” And I [censored] you not, everyone went quiet. We were staring at him like “??? Did you just propose before even asking her out on a date?” And her face, oh god I didn’t know her face could be that red or that her eyes could be so big. She was literally frozen while trying to eat like the rest of us watching them.

When she stayed frozen, it was like there was an error message saying “[Name].exe has stopped working. What the [censored] did you do.” above her head. Osamu eventually moved and dragged her out of the classroom. And they didn’t come back until the bell rang for the next class.

I don’t know what happened during the talk, but I guess he finally confessed because they were holding hands when they came back. 

Anyway, yeah. That’s the story of how they went out. I have to sleep again so bye.

Comments [Anon]: WHAT THE [censored]

[1-800-roflmao]

Wash Day Delight Pt. 4

Rating:  General Audiences

WARNINGS:  None

Fandom:  Undertale (Video Game)

Relationships:  Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader,  Papyrus (Underfell) & Reader, Papyrus (FSG) & Reader, Papyrus (Swapfell) & Reader

Characters:  Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Edge (UF Pap), and Mentions of Other AU Skeletons

Additional Tags:  Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), reader is poc, Reader has curly hair,  Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Friendship, Wholesome, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I'm Bad At Summaries, Not Beta Read, Romance if you squint, Subtext, Let Papyrus be Sassy, Edge Is The Unwilling Dad Friend, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Humor, Slice of Life, Teasing Edge Is Fun, Papy is Best Boi

*Split this chapter into two. Will be posting both today. Morning thoughts and Papy has a great idea! Tried avoiding using y/n as much as I could, but had to this chapter.

PREVIOUS || FIRST || NEXT

She would say morning came too quickly, but in all honesty, this was technically her second time waking up that morning.  Somehow, in spite of the tireless workout she had been put through the night before, she had woken up at the usual time right before her alarm--that was NOT set cause she turned that off with plans to sleep in today--would have gone off.  She’d spared a single, groggy glance at her phone’s clock.  The notifications lining the screen not even registering in her mind.  No, she’d get her well earned sleep in had been and without further adieu, she had put the phone back down, rolled over, and snuggled back in for another few hours of sleep.  

    That had been earlier.  Now, she blinked awake as light from the mid-morning sun sneaked through the slim openings of the curtains just behind her bed.  Blearily, her eyes followed the rays path across her form, her bed, and eventually over the floor where it seemed to highlight her shed clothes along with the open bathroom.  Right… she had forgotten to brush her teeth in her haste to sleep.  Rolling her tongue and opening and closing her mouth, she winced as she felt her cheek move against the now very cold wet spot on her pillow.  Well, at least that second round of sleep was apparently heavy and content.  

“Eugth…” Not that it made waking up in your drool anymore pleasant.  Trying to sit up resulted in even more groans as her muscles protested.  Yup, there were those core muscles that had been oddly silent yesterday acting up today.  Her arm she had tried to push up on had not been too much trouble, but her shoulder had twinged and she had gone back down.  She had managed to at least roll on her back and away from the drool pool though.  Positives.  Focus on the positives.  For a few moments, she just let herself completely relax into the mattress and pillows, just breathing--in and out, slow and even, again and again until all her tension dispersed. 

“They really did me in,” she mumbled as she began to roll her wrists, “But I’ve got too much to get done to be lyin’ around here all day feelin’ miserable.”  Too much considering her now very awake mind realized she had forgotten to wrap her hair, but thankfully she had splurged on satin sheets and pillowcases, so it shouldn’t be too bad.  Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, she didn’t get her wrap sweaty… “Still gonna wash it.”  By now, she had started stretching and working her shoulders with careful, slow rolls and reaches.  The more she moves, the more she’ll loosen up and actually be able to function.  She just couldn’t overdue it.

As she moved onto her legs, she couldn’t stifle a little moan of discomfort as she lifted one limb at time to carefully draw her knee in towards her stomach before extending again.  It took time, but eventually she was able to push herself up into a sitting position.  Muscles in her back, abdomen, and surprising what felt like her butt that she hadn’t been aware of protested, but a few more deep breathes calmed them.  Seeing her phone laying on the sheets near her, she guessed earlier that morning she hadn’t bothered to put the phone back where it went exactly, but current her was very thankful for her sleepy self’s carelessness.

Picking up the device, she decided to take a moment to rest before continuing her war against her body.  Besides, she could remember that she had messages to reply to.  Tapping the screen, she input her pattern and tapped on the messages app.  The first one she opened was Coffee’s.  “Oooh,” she cooed as she looked over the drawing once again with fresh eyes.  Last night, she remembered thinking the hairstyle was cute, but now she could see the little details he included, like his choice of including a custom undercut design.  Could her barber achieve that?  She’d have to ask, but for now.

(to JavaBoi)

Flooffie:  Good morning! 

Flooffie:  Sorry about not replying last night

Flooffie:  This hairstyle is so cute

Flooffie:  And the undercut design is SICK!

Flooffie:  In a good way 

Flooffie:  I’d love to wear it, but I’ll have to check in with my barber about the undercut.

She waited a moment to see if he’d answer, but no little dots popped up so she guessed he was possibly still sleeping or he was busy.  Most likely the former.  Leaving that conversation, she sent a quick message to her barber asking how complicated a design he would be willing to do on an undercut.  She hadn’t expected an answer, but no sooner had she went to click the back button, his answer popped up.  His answer surmised that he had done more complicated pieces, but it all depends on the design.  “Makes sense…” she mumbled before forwarding the doodle to him.   It took him a moment longer to reply this time, but his answer had her beaming: “Sure, just get a better reference.  Bigger too.” 

(to JavaBoi)

Flooffie:  I feel like I’m spamming you.  Sorry!

Flooffie: But I got with my barber and he said he could do it

Flooffie:  Just he needs a better ref

Flooffie:  Could you draw it bigger?  

Flooffie:  I’ll treat you!

        She included some pleading and heart emojis for good measure, even though she was sure he wouldn’t mind one bit.  Moving on, she opened up a certain someone’s convo, eager to see how he reacted to her last text.  A little laugh bubbled past her smile as she saw his reply, full of exclamation marks and a little pause between two of the replies.

(11:33 PM) Papaya:  ….

(11:40 PM) Papaya:  !!!!!!!

Papaya:  TOUCHE! ALTHOUGH I HAD TO GOOGLE WHAT YOU HAD MEANT

Papaya:  MY SKILLS AT PICKING UP THESE IDIOMS IS IMPROVING

Papaya:  WHO CAME UP WITH THESE THINGS?  WHY? WHY NOT JUST SAY WHAT YOU MEAN?!

(11:45 PM) Papaya:  YOUR LACK OF RESPONSE MUST MEAN YOU HAVE FINALLY GONE TO  BED

Papaya:  GOOD

(12:01 AM) Papaya:  SWEET DREAMS, (Y/N)

    Her amusement at how Papyrus could continue a conversation with no one there was overshadowed by the warmth the last text brought.  It was such a simple little thing.  It’s not like he had even called her a pet name, but it still had her flushing and turning her face away from the phone like that would somehow ease the heat.  Maybe it was because she could see the timestamp and knew he had taken the time to pick up the phone again after setting it down for a while just to send that message.  Was it narcissistic to think she was his last thought before he fell asleep?  “It’s too early to be this flustered!” she whined, the fingers of her free hand playing with ends of one of her braids, “All over a text that might not have any deeper meaning…”     

    After her little grumble, she did her best to ignore the sting the words brought.  One more deep breath, she turned back to her phone and the texts, allowing a small smile.  There was no sense in making herself miserable.  It was still a dear friend thinking of her after all.  

    (to Papaya)

Flooffie:  Morning Papi!  Hope you had sweet dreams as well

        Before she could start her next message, she saw those little dots pop up and chuckled.  Of Course he was up already.  

Papaya:   GOOD MORNING!

Papaya:   I DO NOT REMEMBER MY DREAMS, BUT I’M SURE THEY WERE GREAT!

Flooffie:  Just like you, eh?

Papaya:   OFCOURSE!

Papaya:   UM… HOW ARE YOU FEELING THIS MORNING?

Papaya:   NOT TOO SORE I HOPE

    She snorted at that before replying.

Floofie:   Like I got hit by a 18 wheeler in the fast lane and somehow survived to regret it.

Papaya:   ….

Papaya:   APOLOGIES

Papaya:   BUT ARE YOU COMPARING YOUR PAIN TO GETTING HIT BY A SEMI?!

        She could just feel his panic and knew he would start fretting through the text.  She felt just a little guilty laughing at his reaction.  Thankfully, it wasn’t too difficult to calm him down and assure him she was simply exaggerating.  No, he didn’t need to take her to the hospital.  No, he had not broken her.  At Least as far as she knew he hadn’t.  

Throughout, she had slowly worked her way to the edge of the bed and now sat with her legs hanging off.  In between texts with Papyrus, he opened a few of the others.  One was Edge checking in with a reminder that she shouldn’t over exert herself.  She went to send a little thumbs up, but paused and instead juggled between two responses.  Which would mess with him more?  Biting her bottom lip, she finally settled on one and quickly sent it:  “Yes, Daddy~”.  Knowing Edge, he was up, but wouldn’t look at the message until he had a moment, so she closed the convo.  She could see the damage later.

More puns and jokes which she graced with appropriate responses: groans at the especially bad ones and chuckles at the ones that were actually clever.  She of course made her approval known with quick little texts and gifs; the bad ones received the same treatment.  None of it was mean and to tell the truth, it only fanned the flames for these gremlins as she had learned.  They seemed determined to dig up the worst puns they could manage.  By the time, she finished replying, she had made it to the bathroom and was finally taking care of her dental hygiene.  

Her phone now dinged instead of buzzing with each new text.  Most of which were from Papyrus she assumed.  Toothbrush in her mouth, she picked up her phone and opened the texting app again as she resumed brushing with her other hand.  She had been correct.  A line of texts from her friend popped up on the screen and they ranged from bringing up his question about idioms from last night to checking in that she was actually taking the time to rest.  She thanked the stars that her phone wasn’t on the larger side as it allowed her to hold and type with one hand.  

Flooffie:  Decided to make today wash day since people are INSISTING I rest.  Was due for one anyway.

Papaya:   WASH DAY?  YOU HAVE A DAY DEDICATED TO WASHING?

Papaya:   I THOUGHT HUMANS PRUNE IF THEY ARE IN WATER TOO LONG?

She let him get out all his ponderings and ramblings, which took a good minute, before she finally jumped in.  Although she’d love to convince him it was a secret, sacred holiday and ritual that humans have to partake in a few days a year for… reasons, she fought down her inner prankster and cursed Cash for his influence on her.  

Flooffie:  It’s nothing elaborate… kinda?

Flooffie:  It’s just that people like me tend to have a lot of hair and it takes time to properly care for it.

Flooffie:  So, we make a day of it.  Chill and relax, pamper ourselves, etc

She was a bit surprised he hadn’t replied immediately and had actually finished with her dental routine by the time he finally texted back.  

Papaya:  SO IT IS A DAY DEDICATED TO YOUR HAIR?!

Oh, she hadn’t seen this much enthusiasm from him for her hair in a good bit.  As his texts came through, she felt touched he wanted to learn more and she was happy to inform him, best she could over text anyway.  There was another long pause in between his text.  Just long enough for her to reach for her shower handle as she decided to finally take a shower and get started on her day.  Her phone dinged and Papyrus changed all her plans.

Papaya:  WHY DON’T YOU HAVE YOUR WASH DAY AT OUR HOUSE?!!

[colifower]

The Throne

Hey guys, This is my submission to @worstloki​ ‘s Secret Santa for @darkalinas Hope you’ll like it

Warnings: mentions of death/fake death, mild language.

Also on my AO3

         The halls were emptier than he remembered. Not a day had passed and no mourning signs were at sight. The aftermath of the battle was odd. Few injured, most of them dead or missing in the depths of another realm. However, the floors were immaculate if only missing a few chunks of marble.

         What Loki was about to do was foolish and knew it. But he also wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t try, he needed answers. He flickered his hand and his illusion opened the door. Loki had only taking a glimpse of one the guard sent to retrieve his body, so he had to improvise. His thoughts went to the one that had told him of his not-mother’s death. He was part of the royal guard; he would have easily died in battle with the dark elves, although he had never went back to check on him.

         The illusion entered graciously the throne room and bowed politely while Loki silently walked behind the man kneeling besides the throne.

         “Forgive me, my liege. I’ve returned form the Dark World with news.”

         “Thor?” asked Odin, without any sign of sentiment in his tone.

         “There was no sign of Thor, or the weapon, but…”

         “What?” said the king, turning his head around.

         “We found a body”

         “Loki…” he lowered his sight. Loki said nothing but couldn’t help to smirk slightly.

         “Loki!” said Odin suddenly, turning around as if he had expected him to be there. “You little shit! I…”

         Smack! Loki didn’t know what to do, so he pulled a frying pan out of his dimensional pocket and smacked Odin square in the face. The Allfather fell ungracefully to the floor.

         “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” murmured Loki. He stared at the… corpse? Unconscious body? At this point the distinction wasn’t important. Specially after hearing what sounded like his brother’s footsteps coming towards him.

         He didn’t have enough time to think of a better plan, so he grabbed Odin’s feet and tossed him behind the throne while he panicked. “That’ll have to do” he said as he threw the pan behind him. His brother slammed the door open covering the noise the pan made hitting the floor (he was lucky, but not lucky enough to have laid another hit on his not-father’s face).

         Thor kneeled and waited.

         “You once said there would never be a wiser king than me” stated Loki and then paused for dramatic effect. “You were wrong. The alignment has brought all the realms together. Every one of them saw you offer your life to save them. What can Asgard offer its new King in return?

         “My life” Loki raised his eyebrows. Was he recognising that he was to be executed for committing treason and various war crimes? For real? “Father, I cannot be King of Asgard. I will protect Asgard and all the realms with my last and every breath, but I cannot do so from that chair. Loki, for all his grave imbalance, understood rule as I know I never will. The brutality, the sacrifice… It changes you. I'd rather be a good man than a great King.”

         “Is this my son I hear? Or the woman he loves?”

         “When you speak, do I never hear Mother's voice?“ Touché. Loki sighted and waited for him to continue. “This is not for Jane, Father. She does not know what I came here to say. Now forbid me to see her or say she can rule at my side, it changes nothing.”

         Loki sighted and thought of something his not-father would have said. “One son who wanted the Throne too much, another who will not take it. Is this my legacy?”

         “Loki died with honour. I shall try to live the same. Is that not legacy enough?” Loki nodded. Thor picked up his hammer and offered it to the man on the throne. Loki knew that he had to let go of it if he didn’t want anybody to know about the frying pan issue still going on behind him.

         “It belongs to you. If you are worthy of it.”

         “I shall try to be.”

         “I cannot give you my blessing, nor can I wish you good fortune.” He knew it wasn’t true, but truth had never Odin’s forte. Was it his, then?

         “I know.”

         Loki felt slightly bad for his brother. He could tell that his girlfriend was about to break up with him and the he was going to decide to go on a depressing sabbatical to get away from grief. He felt he needed to say something. After all, Odin had never stated any affection for Thor either. “If I were proud of the man my son had become, even that I could not say, I would speak only from my heart. Go, my son.”

         “Thank you, father” said Thor, bowing slightly and walking out of the room while leaving the door open.

         “No, thank you” said Loki mockingly. Now he had to get up and close the door again. Loki scratched his neck. He knew Thor was far from ready to be king, but he was surprised this little adventure had made him somewhat conscious about it. He took a deep breath and stretched.

         “Shit, this chair is uncomfortable. I’ll have commission someone to give it back support if I plan to sit here every day…”

         Loki went to retrieve his pan and saw the old man laying unceremoniously on the floor. He knew he had to move the body quickly, but he couldn’t resist painting a farting butt on his left cheek. He would certainly need help of the guards to move the man out of Asgard and also think of a way to give himself a proper burial. For the moment he settled on casting an illusion of himself over the king.

         “Hmmnnn… Loki…” Smack! He needed to get himself a more permanent way to keep him unconscious but at least he was reassured that the guy was not dead. He really needed Odin to be sent away and never to return. Loki, still disguised as Odin, picked up the body as best as he could and dragged him down the stairs and towards the back door.

         “It is better if you ask your wards for help, your highness” said one guard, closing the door that Thor had left open.

         “Erm, yes. Thank you. You can help me with this. I thought I was able to carry my son’s body, but I seemed to have forgotten that I am an old man now.” Loki started picking at his hands and tried to appear as regal as one can be. He had been weakened by his near-death experience back in the Dark world and was struggling to keep the illusions in place. His butt-fart was now visible and did his best to try to cover it with his cape.

         “No, no, my lord. You should be resting.” Insisted. “After losing your beloved wife and son you’ll need it. These men over here will…”

         Loki dropped the body yet again and looked at the guard he had made up. The one that looked exactly like the man that just entered the throne room. His eyes widened and the grip on his pan got tighter.

         “Erm… I won’t say a thing, my prince. Not a word.” Said the guard. “If you do this little thing for me.”

         “Prince? I am Odin Allfather, your lord and king!” said Loki trying to emulate Odin’s condescending tone.

         “No, you’re not, my prince” he continued. “And you’ll need some allies if you plan to sneak out The Allfather’s body out of Asgard.”

         Unfortunately, he was right. Loki took a deep breath and dropped the illusions all at once. He kept holding the pan. “What’s your name, soldier?”

         “Raisin”

         “Raisin?”

         “Yeah, my parents thought they were language geniuses.”

         “Well, Raisin. The Royal Family does not deal with terrorists.”

         “Hmmm… yes you do” stated the man. He was getting kind of cocky and Loki didn’t like that at all. “That’s what royal families do, deal with each other. But we’re getting off topic. I know that if this plan backfires I’ll be the one to blame, so don’t worry about me telling.”

         “So, you have a plan?” Loki will never admit it, but he was kind of relieved that he didn’t have to do it alone.

         “Yeah, we can do what we did to my partner’s mom” said Raisin, nonchalantly. “She didn’t approve of his son and I living together so we sent her to Shady Acres some years ago.

         “Is that… a nursing home?”

         “Yeah, on Earth. The staff is kind and nice. They have good food and chess tournaments. They also don’t let them go to their daily walk if they say any slur, which is a plus.”

         “Sounds promising. Any ideas about my funeral? Do you know how to get a corpse?”

         “Yeah…” murmured Raisin. Suddenly his boots were kind of interesting.

         “Erm… Sorry for your loss” said Loki. He didn’t know what to say in these kinds of situations.

         “I… I really want to give him a proper burial but I don’t have any money on my name.”

         “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. I have lived with Thor for centuries, I guess some of his interior design skills had stuck” said the God of Mischief. He realised that Raisin had started to cry and felt very helpless. “Here use this.”

         Raisin chuckled when he handled him the king’s cape to wipe his tears and clear his nose. “Is that…a very ugly muffing?”

         “What, no. It’s very obviously a fart!” said Loki. “My artistic skills had been insulted. I will have to kill you now.”

         Raisin rolled his eyes. “Now, shut up and pick him by the hands, he looks heavy.”

[fandomsonrequests]

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 6]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 2.9k+

summary:  It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: whoooo- so i’m back. i’m sorry for not updating as much :’)) school has really been kicking my ass. how’s quarantine for you all? do you have physical or online classes? either way, i hope you’re all staying safe and constantly hydrating! <3

taglist: @iwanttohitmyself​ @barcelona-sergei​ @minihongjoong​ @i-purrple-u @taetae123094 @jeonartemis @jibaxja​

↞previous  ♛  next↠

“So that was an experience,” Siyeon says as she loops her arm with yours, following Mina to their shared quarters with the rest of the girls. 

You nodded in agreement, trying to keep note of all the twists and turns you took and memorizing them for future use. “I still can’t believe that Hae-seong guy is going to tutor us about the kingdom’s laws.” You grimaced. 

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Your friend sighs. “I bet that guy likes to pick on the others- or flunk them on purpose.”

“He definitely seems like it.” 

You and the rest of the group stopped at a hallway that’s parallel to a large window, designed with stained glass roses creeping up the sides. You could see the whole courtyard and the other roofs of the palace from this spot. It was quite a breathtaking view, but you imagined that it was even more beautiful at sunset. 

“Here you are,” Mina says in her tiny but clear voice as she opened the doors to the quarters. “I’ll be fetching you from now on to avoid any of you getting lost in the palace. You’ll be fitted for your uniforms later before the feast. In the meantime, you must wear what you have brought to training.” 

The room was huge. There were around twenty girls in the group but the room could fit more than that. The whole room was probably as big as your whole damn house. 

Soft beds lined the walls, a narrow but tall window in between each space separating the beds. Trunks carved with intricate designs and gold encrustations on the side were settled at the foot of each bed. This was probably where they were to put their things in as the days continued. Candlesticks were sat on top of the simple but marble bedside tables for each bed. 

All of you couldn’t help but gawk at the whole place, making Mina chuckle under her breath. To her, it was a normal thing to see but seeing everyone else’s reaction reminded her other first day as a maid in the palace. 

“The beds look so soft..” Says a tall girl from your right. 

“I wonder how the uniforms would feel..” Another says. 

“Please feel free to rest and unpack the things you have brought,” Mina says with a humble bow of her head. “If you feel too cooped up in the room, you may take a look at the palace but I advise you to not stray too far from this wing. The palace is quite enormous.”

The young maid bowed once more before she exited the room and closed the door behind her. Several girls didn’t waste any time to pick a bed that they liked and start unpacking. You felt Siyeon tug at your arm and lead the both of you to a spot near the corner of the room. 

Idle chatter and quiet sounds of excitement filled the whole room, making it a little more lively. Several girls huddled together as they unpacked their things while others worked on their own. Some went straight to their bed and tried to sleep- it was probably an exhausting journey for them.

“Here, here.” She says when she finally picks a spot and settles her bag over the trunk provided for them.

“Oh wow,” You remark as you sit on the bed. 

It felt soft, so soft. It felt like those special marshmallows you had whenever you were able to buy some from the traders. You exclaim a little when you move up the bed, feeling it dip from your weight. You were afraid that you would sink right to the floor from how soft it was. Your beds back at Trelark we’re never this comfy. 

A few other girls, mainly from city villages, looked at you weirdly and giggled behind their hands. You tried to ignore them as a furious flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. 

“Don’t mind them,” Siyeon says as she moved from her bed to yours. “You know what city girls are like.” 

“Pompous and obnoxious..” You reply with a chuckle of your own. 

Your friend clicks her tongue and winks. “Exactly. But enough of that- let’s talk about the prince.” She says with a cheeky grin, leaning onto your shoulder.

You laugh a little and roll your eyes. “Really? That’s what you're interested in?” You ask as you gently nudge her off of you. 

“Oh come on,” She retorts. “He’s handsome, isn’t he? I didn’t expect that he’d be that… flawless.”

You couldn’t help but agree. You heard from the stories that floated around here and there on how handsome Prince Seonghwa was. But seeing him in real life was truly something else. 

You tried not to gawk at him the first time you saw him, but he just looked so ethereal. His clothes were pristine and pressed, elegant trimmings and subtle glint of the designs embossed in the fabric shined under the light. He had a good combination of genes from both parents because the way his face was shaped, from that sharp jaw to his nose, one would think he was sculpted by the gods themselves. 

But the gold crown that sat upon his silver locks tied the whole look together. 

“Plus, he doesn’t seem so stuck-up and arrogant.” 

“Well,” you shrug. “It could be a front.”

“True, true. But if he were, you’d practically feel the arrogance radiate from him. He didn’t seem to give off any bad energy.” 

Siyeon had this spooky but amazing gift of being able to read people and sense their “auras” around them. There were moments where she was wrong, but most of the time she was correct. It still puzzles you how she’s able to do that but you suppose some people were blessed to have amazing talents. 

“Was that what your special gut feeling was telling you?” You tease her with a smile.

“Yes, and you know how my gut is always right.”

“Most of the time.”

“Most of the time.”

You two end your conversation there and decide to finally unpack. You needed to get some shut-eye after all this travel. 

~ 

“What do you think of the delegates so far?” Hongjoong asks as he brings a stack of books over to Seonghwa.

The two were currently in the palace library, brushing up on some lessons that the prince had learned a week ago. He liked to study some lessons from before to keep his mind sharp and to retain that knowledge from before. 

“They seem alright from first glance,” Seonghwa answered after thanking his friend for the books. He sighs and closes the one he was reading before looking up to the shorter man. “I really wished father didn’t require that all these people had to go. Some looked reluctant to even be here.”

“I think they’d change their mind soon,” Hongjoong replies and sat across his friend the polished table. “I mean, their whole family gets to live here in the palace and I won’t lie, that’s an amazing opportunity. 

“I suppose..” 

“And if that doesn’t persuade them, they could always drop out.” 

“I just wished I didn’t need all this protection,” The prince sighs and stands up. He folds his hands together and glances out the window to look over to the wing that held the delegates’ quarters. “I feel like a burden to people.”

“Seonghwa, you’re not a burden don’t you ever say that,” Hongjoong refutes and looks up at his friend. “Besides.. you’re more of a peaceful person rather than a fighter.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle at this, the corners of his luscious lips quirking up into a smile. “I suppose that’s my fault. I did prefer my lessons over the ones Byron would give.”

The prince turned to his friend with another sigh and returned to his seat. He opens another book for his lessons. “I hope that they won't quit too early though..” 

~ 

You were awoken by Siyeon who was shaking your shoulder. “Hey sleepyhead, Mina’s here,” She says quietly as not to disrupt the maid who was delivering the news.

You sat up, eyes still blurry and mind foggy from being robbed of sleep, and yawned behind your hand. The girl’s mousy voice carried over to you when your head was finally cleared. 

“...please wear your most appropriate attire for the banquet later. I suggest you prepare now to avoid further delays when I fetch you later. The washroom is right across the hall.” 

Mina bows and leaves the room. Once more, chatter fills the room, and a sense of excitement and some bits of anxiety fill the room. Girls hop off their beds and start rummaging through their clothes to pick out something presentable while others headed over to the washroom to freshen up. 

You hear Siyeon humming as she goes through her clothes. She was the daughter of a tailor and a seamstress you see, so most of the time they made their own clothes or reformed it to their taste. She had quite a lot of presentable wear that could even allow her to pass off as a noble who liked to dress casually. 

Other girls, specifically from the city villages, had such lavish clothes. It was hard for you to believe that they were simple wear. 

You turn to your clothes. There wasn’t much variety to them. They all ranged from hues of white to black to brown. Fabric dye was hard to come by in your village of Trelark. The most colorful clothing you had was a simple dress when you were six. That was long gone by now. 

“Not much to pick from huh?” 

You direct your attention to the voice beside you. A girl with tanned skin and long black hair tied into a ponytail was looking at you expectantly. There were bags under her eyes and a few tiny streaks of silver in her hair, making her look older than usual. She had no malice in her expression thankfully; she just had a look of sympathy. 

“Uhm, yeah… is it that obvious?” You answer somewhat shyly. You didn’t think you’d be this conscious about your clothes ever. 

The girl gave a warm laugh and shrugged. “I have the same problem as you.” She said and gestured to her clothes laid out in the bed. It mirrored yours except hers had more skirts than trousers. 

“I’m Amihan, it’s nice to meet you,” She introduces herself and extends a hand for you to shake. “I came from Sinal.” 

Sinal- another mountain village. That made sense. 

“____,” You shook her hand and offered her a smile. “I came from Trelark.” 

“Ahh, that explains things.” She grins and pulls her hand away. “I was originally from Rako, you know, the farming village. But my family had to transfer to Sinal after that drought.”

Several years ago, when you were still a very young girl, the north side of the kingdom had experienced a terrible drought. Many people had suffered- especially those living on the outskirts of the kingdom. Almost a fourth of the kingdom’s population was wiped out due to the lack of food and the violence of trying to stay alive arose from it. 

Your family was fortunate enough to be living on the other side, but you had remembered the flock of people that had arrived at Trelark in search of a place to stay and restart their lives. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You say quietly, hands awkwardly hovering over your clothing. 

Amihan brushes it off and continues to go about picking her clothes. “It’s alright, it was long ago so it doesn’t really matter now. I don’t even remember what happened then.” 

The silence that follows after she speaks marks the end of the conversation. You were kind of glad that she approached you- you had a feeling that she’d end up being a good friend of yours. 

~ 

Mina came to fetch all of you after as the time for the banquet drew near. You were in the middle of brushing out Siyeon’s hair when the maid called for everyone and requested that they follow her to the dining hall where the royal family was waiting. 

That made you hurry your actions and toss your friend’s brush onto her bed when you were done. “Okay, you’re done. You look great- now let's go.” You say in a rush and prompt her to stand. 

The group trailed after her and headed towards the dining hall, meeting the group of young men halfway through. Their hair was slicked or tied back and they too were wearing their best clothing. Some looked like they dressed to impress while others didn’t seem to mind too much just as long as they looked appropriate. 

You didn’t miss the way a few curious glances and flirtatious winks were sent to each other from both groups, making you roll your eyes in amusement. All of you were young, you had to expect this kind of behavior would happen. 

“Well, don’t you two look great.” Raviv compliments when the delegates merge. 

“Thank you, Raviv,” Siyeon says with a proud smile and a bow of her head. 

Once you arrive at the dining hall, you couldn’t help but be blown away by the spectacular aura it has. The walls were lined with velvet while ivory columns stood along the walls to support the tall ceiling above you. Several banners hung along the walls while a guard stood underneath each. A large plush red rug lay in the middle of the room where a rather long and somewhat narrow dining table was, topped with gold silverware and candle holders. 

It was just like you imagined- only ten times better. 

A various array of delicious foods was laid out on the table. Some were recognizable but many others looked foreign and even exotic to you. It was definitely way better than the stale bread and hard meat you had to eat from day in and day out.

Your mouth waters from the delicious aroma alone. You only realized how hungry you were when your stomach growled. You clutch it out of embarrassment but no one seemed to notice as they were too entranced by the sight before them. 

The King and his family had their little table at the front with their food placed upon it. He rose from his seat and spread his arms wide to welcome you. “Please take a seat and enjoy the meal we have prepared for you. I’m sure you’re all famished.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Several of you say with a bow of the head. 

The second the King gave his permission to eat everyone quickly made their way over to the long table. Some tried to nudge their way towards the seat nearest to the royal family. Luckily, the other delegates weren’t foolish enough to fight in front of the king. Although, the poisonous glares they received from others were hard to miss.

You, Siyeon, and Raviv managed to snag three seats away from the boisterous people and found yourselves sitting near the end of the table. You see Amihan trying to find one for herself when you wave her over. “Amihan, over here!” 

The young woman grins when she sees you and makes her way over. “Thank you…” She says softly and nodded over at your two other friends to which they responded in kind. 

“Please, enjoy your meal.” The King says once more before sitting down and resuming his dinner with his family. 

You all dug in excitedly. Your tastebuds were met with an explosion of flavor. You try not to shove food into your mouth, you were after all raised with manners. You’ve never had anything this good before. Everything you tasted was so fresh and so tender, it was truly a luxury only the rich could have. 

By the time dinner was over everyone was full and satisfied. The once lively chatter dwindled to content murmurs and soft tones. 

“If I have another bite of that cookie I’m going to burst,” Raviv says as he leans back against his chair and wipes his mouth with the table napkin provided for them. 

You could only hum in agreement. “I don’t think they’d feed us like this everyday though..” You muse as you drink some water to wash everything down. 

“Ah, _____ let us dream a little.” Amihan gently pushes your shoulder with a small laugh. “But I’m going to have to agree with you. Even if they’re rich they’d still ration the food they have.”

“That and the kingdom’s taxes go to them so they can’t really spend all our money on this,” Siyeon added.

There was a fair share of corrupt kings throughout the generations, a couple of them being dethroned by the resistance of the kingdom. Although some ruled justly- one of these kings being Seonghwa’s father. There were still people that despised the royal family but the majority adored them. 

The banquet ends with words from the King before the delegates were dismissed to head back to their quarters and prepare for bed. Back in the girls’ quarters, several candles were lit as they all prepared for bed. 

Siyeon was already settled and snuggled down on her own while you sat on yours, brushing your hair out. You set down your course brush on your bedside table and move to lay under the covers, blowing out your candle in the process. As you shift onto your side, you feel the weight of the pendant your father gave you fall off your chest. Your hand comes up to touch it, allowing the memories of your family to give you strength.

Tomorrow is the day you start training. Tomorrow is the day the game starts.

[softowlhours]

paperclip chains

akaashi keiji (officeAU!)

a collection of scenarios following you and akaashi as you try and finesse the art of navigating life as working adults.

genre: a bit sad at times, but hopefully fluffier in the future.

a/n: my first piece of writing and this is pure self indulgent because work is hard and nothing makes sense sometimes. hope you all enjoy and find some comfort in it. 

word count: 3500~

pt. one 🦋 blank like a sheet of paper. 🦋

[friday. 3:00 p.m.]

someone had cracked open the window. the air inside the office had been much too oppressive, stale with the smell of the murky, insipid coffee you could get from the cafeteria. for free. staff privileges, they call it. late afternoon sun pours in through the large square windows. it ignites the office, dying it in the shades of an inferno. however, the warmth of it does not reach akaashi’s heart. the way the rays set everything aglow was in contrast to the chill crisp autumn air. akaashi could hear the leaves rustle, clinging to the branches waiting for that particular gust of wind, strong enough to blow them off. the leaves would then twirl and twirl until they’d softly land on the damp earth becoming one with it again. he wishes he were a leaf.

He tries to focus on nature’s gentle melody, but the hubbub of the office is overbearing. the incessant clicking of alphabets on the keyboards, the murmur of pages being turned, someone sneezes loudly and it is immediately followed by lazy ‘bless you’s’. his ears are attuned to the low electric groan of the printer, and he hopes someone would get up and unclog the jam of papers before the white noise drives him insane. he ends up doing it himself, almost losing a finger in the process as he tries to pull out a badly stuck paper from the printers’ rollers. today had been one of those days where nothing had gone right, a domino of disasters triggered the moment he’d opened his eyes. these days had been coming by way too often lately for his taste. he felt tired.

none of these turmoils showed on his exterior though, he wore a calm, unbothered mask. despite his depressing inner monologue, he diligently read through the manuscript highlighting bits he’d like to go over with the author at their next meeting.

it wasn’t like akaashi hated his job, infact, this was his dream job. he loved what he did but sometimes his love for his work was eclipsed by the politics the workplace was entrenched in. the naivety from when he had first joined almost a year ago had worn off quickly. it took him a mere week in the workforce to understand that a job demanded more than the list of skills and tasks specified in the job description. in any office, beneath the veneer of civility, there always remains an undercurrent of competition, jealousy, idle minds looking for entertainment at the expense of each other. there were people who did not love their job, the free loaders who somehow never did their share but managed to take home their bag of coins. they would slack and slack some more until the burden of their neglect would be shifted upon the shoulders of the new comers. too timid to resist. he pulls out his leather bound planner, a gift from his friend to celebrate him landing the role of an assistant editor all those months ago. it is almost filled from start to finish with his scribbles and the leather is soft with constant handling. his eyes scan past all the work he had wrapped up for the day, until one of his seniors had dumped an endless stack of files containing short stories that had been sent in for the monthly writing contests. they’re not short anymore when you have a hundred of them to read at once. apparently, the senior had a date he’d forgotten about and had to leave early. akaashi couldn’t report this to the boss, he knew how offices worked. its venomous hierarchies slithered like snakes ready to diss whoever defied them. rookies must act like rookies. akaashi quickly jots down in his planner a list of things he must get done over the weekend and the bulleted list slowly fills up two entire pages.

when he wasn’t picking up after someone’s mess akaashi did enjoy what he did. he enjoyed being on top of his work, found an euphoric satisfaction in duties well done. while his colleagues took it easy during the day and whined as they worked overtime in the evenings to meet deadlines, akaashi was most probably done for the day by then and already at home; fresh out of the shower and lighting his favourite candles that made his bedroom smell like cinnamon. he’d curl up under his soft comforter letting the tension of a busy day dissipate from his body. he kept his favorite books on the nightstand and would read them as he waited for sleep to come.  

“akaashi-chan,” he hears the soothing voice of his supervisor, an old well natured man in his sixties who had worked here for almost thirty years. he walks upto akaashi’s desk, his eyes crinkling with a gentle smile as he takes in the mess that was his desk.  “its difficult being a rookie, huh?” hatori-san says. “i would’ve just let you gone home, but the design and printing departments are an anxious bunch. they’re breathing down our necks for the final draft of the magazine two weeks before the release date.”

“please don’t apologise, hatori-san. It’s always like this towards the end of the month.” you aren’t the one who should be apologising.

“hmm...” the elderly muses, “maybe you should dilly dally like your colleagues, afterall, who is to blame you? the youth are meant to be reckless. ”

“but hatori-san if i did that not even a quarter of our magazine will be ready by the end of this month!” akaashi’s voice is filled with amusement, and mild terror.

hatori-san chuckles. “yes, yes i’m aware. i’ll rely on you then akaashi-chan. i do have a bit of good news for you though.” a bonus-

“we’re getting another assistant editor on monday, hopefully your workload can be halved from then on and a be little more manageable. i’m worried you’re starting to look older than me akaashi-chan.” he jokes. “i’ll leave her in your care.”

❀ ✿  ✿ ❀

[friday. 8:20 p.m.]

he stays in the office until late that night, finishing as much of his work he can before the words on the screen begin to blur and he can feel his brain churn in his head. he packs the documents he needed to read over the weekend, putting them neatly in his black briefcase. the temperatures have dropped quite low and with his tan coat on and a scarf wrapped around his neck, he steps out into the world. outside, tokyo is buzzing with life, the lights twinkle and a bubbly atmosphere engulfs even this usually grim and dull part of the city; where most companies found their home. salary men and women chatter excitedly as they pour into the office district from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass. groups of people stand on the sidewalk chatting amicably, smoke rises from cigarettes, plans to go hangout at karaokes, bars and restaurants float in the air.

it wasn’t that akaashi did not have friends, or ever had trouble making any. he was easy going, attentive and though not the loudest in the room, he was enigmatic. people were drawn to him. especially the weird and loud ones. not that he minded. not that he ever judged. which is what made people open up their hearts to him so easily. they knew he’d take them for who they were. but, like earlier today he couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease that clawed at him. he had his dream job but the hours he spent on his desk day after day, the endless exchange of apathetic emails, the unlimited cups of coffee, had all amalgamated into a kind of hollowness. he felt empty instead of fulfilled. he idly wonders if bokuto-san ever felt this way, or knowing him, did he charge straight ahead without any inhibitions? if you asked bokuto whether he could see himself playing volleyball for the next twenty or fifty years, bokuto would say ‘yes, ofcourse!!!’ in a heartbeat. and akaashi knew bokuto would mean it.

he wonders how hatori-san had spent his entire life in that office. could i do the same?

akaashi considers hanging out with some of his friends from university, maybe take hatori-san’s advice and just let go and forget everything for a while. he could be your typical 20 something, going to the bars with his 20 something friends where they’d shit talk their rude colleagues. He could console that one friend who wouldn’t stop crying over his ex-girlfriend who left him 3 years ago, every time he’s drunk. he could go home with that girl at the opposite end of the bar who wouldn’t stop looking his way, and who in his drunken haze, he thinks to be pretty. but eventually akaashi decides he is too tired to do any of that.

much later, when he settles into bed, he mindlessly picks up a book from his nightstand. he starts reading from where he had left off the night before but his eyes don’t really register a single word. for all he knew, he could’ve been staring at a blank sheet of paper. after a few more minutes of seeing nothing, he puts the book away and buries himself deep underneath the covers.

he feels the tears fall.

❀ ✿  ✿ ❀

[monday, 9:45 a.m.]

its odd. akaashi feels well rested. very very well rested.

his eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees is the blue sky peeking from the gap between his curtains. he’s afraid to look at the time.

9:45 A.M. well, shit.

akaashi feels winded by the time he makes it to the floor where his office was.from the door he sees hatori-san standing next to akaashi’s chair, his back towards him. akaashi’s heart is in his throat, an apology that sounds fake dances on his tongue. he then hears hatori-san chuckle. a soft female voice says something he cannot catch. ah, the new assistant editor.

“good morning” he calls hoarsely, as he approaches them.

“Ah, hello akaashi-san,” his supervisor beams, “meet y/n. hopefully, your new partner in crime.”

“i was told i’m supposed to help slow down your aging process.” her voice is soft, and despite the shyness there is a mischievous lilt to her tone.  “i’ll do my best. please do guide me.”

hatori-san excuses himself. she’s practically buzzing with excitement, akaashi notices. before he can say anything, she pulls out a brand-new notepad from her bag, pen clicking open. she looks ready to take on the world.

he has to bite back a smile. she’s cute, cheeks flush and lips in a pout as she  jots down something on it. he genuinely wonders what it is she writes, considering he hasn’t even spoken yet. her hair is neatly tied away from her face but a few stray tendrils fall and delicately frame her face.

he wonders if this is how he had looked on his first day at work. face pink and eyes bright. probably not as cute though, oh no, definitely not cute. he internally cringes at the memory of his awkwardness.

but you miss it. that excitement.

“it’s fine.” he says, “please just sit down and relax, i’ll guide you as we go through our daily routine.” he gives her a small smile.

they spend the morning, going through the basics of the trade, she's a fast learner, he notes. and later during the lunch hour he divulges to her the little ‘how to survive in this office 101s’. he tells her how how she mustn’t drink the free coffee they hand out at the cafeteria (even though he’s come to accept it himself, for he welcomes caffeine in any state and form). he suspects they reuse the coffee grounds more times than considered acceptable. how if you ever jammed the printer, try and leave before anyone realises it was you if you don’t want to be the recipient of death glares from colleagues all day long. He tells her which restrooms are the best and which elevators reach their destinations the fastest. the grimmer and more ruthless bits of working here can wait, he thinks.

passion was something he lost some time ago and hasn’t been able to find ever since.

“make sure to take it easy.” he mumbles to her as they are putting away their trays, “if work gets too much, you can always place the manuscripts and drafts  on my desk when i’m not looking.”

she looks at him incredulously. laughter bubbles from her lips as she tells him with mock indignance that she’s better than that. she asks the cafeteria lady for two cups of the infamous coffee, offering him one.

“lets toast!” y/n proposes .

“to what?”

“to all the times we’ll be the the last two brain cells holding up this company. together.” she jokes, touching her paper cup to his. 

he likes the sound of ‘together’.

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

[gffa]

Hi!  Of course it’s all right, I’m always delighted to get even half a chance to talk about this stuff that I love so much!I will say, of course, there are few true concrete answers to any of this, even if word of god commentary lays out a direct answer, because several of the creators have spoken about how it’s important to maintain the sense of speculation and theorizing, as that was one of the things that was such a joy to them before they started making SW, too.  As well as, you know, just the basic fact that everyone’s going to interpret things differently and that doesn’t make one more inherently valuable than another, as well as word of god commentary and, hell, even canon is only as meaningful to you as a fan as you want it to be!That said, I like the case I make for the things I’m passionate about, so I’ll make my case again because I enjoy doing it! We‘re always told that the Dark Side is evil and Light is good. But if you divide it like that, what does true balance mean? Fundamentally, light is good and dark is evil, that’s absolutely true, but the thing is that it’s never meant to be about a purity thing, but instead being about what you embrace as a worldview.  Each one of us has both good and bad in us, the way you keep balance isn’t by exorcising the bad and then you’re good forever, but to every day keep making the choice to embrace the good. George Lucas explains the Force in, at its most basic terms, that the light is selfless (love, compassion, caring) and the dark is selfishness (greed, anger, hate, suffering).  The only way to rise above the dark side is to discipline yourself against it.  (George Lucas Explains The Force in a The Clone Wars writers meeting + transcription here) On the dark side specifically, how the Force works: “Once you become afraid that somebody’s going to take it away from you or you’re gonna lose it, then you start to become angry, especially if you’re losing it, and that anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering. Mostly on the part of the person who’s selfish, because you spend all your time being afraid of losing everything you’ve got instead of actually living.” How Yoda explains how the dark side/the Force works in The Phantom Menace:“ Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.“ These are literally the same exact explanation, which shows us that, yes, Yoda and the Jedi are absolutely correct about how the dark side of the Force works! Another example: “In the end, it’s about fundamentally becoming selfless moreso than selfish.  It seems so simple, but it’s so hard to do.  And when you’re tempted by the dark side, you don’t overcome it once in life and then you’re good.  It’s a constant. And that’s what, really, Star Wars is about and what I think George wanted people to know.  That to be a good person and to really feel better about your life and experience life fully you have to let go of everything you fear to lose. Because then you can’t be controlled.  [….]  These are the core things of Star Wars.”  –Dave Filoni, Celebration Chicago 2019, Rebels Remembered Panel “Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed that is. [What must I do, Master Yoda?] Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”  –Yoda, Revenge of the Sith “[Anakin] turns into Darth Vader because he gets attached to things. He can’t let go of his mother; he can’t let go of his girlfriend. He can’t let go of things. It makes you greedy. And when you’re greedy, you are on the path to the dark side, because you fear you’re going to lose things, that you’re not going to have the power you need.” –George Lucas, Time Magazine These are also echoes of each other and the themes of how the dark side works in Star Wars, again showing us that the Jedi are correct in their understanding of how the Force works. And this is also what the Jedi teach:  That you must face your inner darkness (your fears, your hate, your guilt, your anger) because it comes from within and it’s a lifelong thing.  It starts with them designing their tests for younglings to move forward in their training by going to Ilum, where they will face the things they fear, the things they must overcome, to not become trapped in their mind.

It goes hand in hand with the Jedi’s bigger philosophy of understanding yourself and controlling yourself, that these things aren’t bad, but you need to get a grip on yourself (especially when you have these tremendous psychic powers and connections and can be influenced by outside emotions that you don’t even realize aren’t your own, as happens more than once in canon). Which is why one of the earliest lessons we see baby Jedi being taught is about meditation and understanding yourself, looking within to know who you are:

One more example: “All of my movies are about one thing.  Which is the fact that the only prison you’re in is the prison of your mind.  And if you decide to open the door and get out, you can.  There’s nothing stopping you.“ –George Lucas (American Voices, 2015) “You-you said we would be trapped.” “Not by the cave you were, but by your mind. Lessons, you have learned. Find courage, you did– Hope, patience Trust, confidence, and selflessness.”  –Jedi younglings + Yoda on Ilum, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, “The Gathering” The Jedi teach that this is what they must guard against, must discipline themselves against: “Qui-Gon whispered, ‘The dark side?’ He knew it was a thing all beings carried within them, a part of himself he would learn to guard against—the crèche masters had taught him all that.“  –Master & Apprentice, Claudia Gray “[The] only way to overcome the dark side is through discipline.”  –George Lucas What do the Jedi mean, when they say „Trust in the Force“, and „May the Force be with you“? They’re blessings, basically!  “Trust in the Force” is that the Jedi believe the Force will guide them, that if you can quiet your mind enough to hear its whispers, it will guide them into the moment and direction they’re meant to be in.  Many times, they cannot possibly know the Force’s plans, so they kind of just have to shrug and go, “Well, we’re limited mortal beings who cannot possibly have an omniscient point of view like the mystical energy field that we can tap into a small fraction, so if you don’t know which direction to go, all you can do is trust the Force to guide you.” And “May the Force be with you” is the similar, that they’re saying “good luck” and that they hope the person has good fortune in whatever they’re going to go do. Are they always just talking about the Light and totally disregard the Dark? I would say they’re definitely not disregarding it, because the dark is part of everyone, it’s a lifelong challenge to overcome it, it’s not a one-and-done thing, but that doesn’t mean they embrace it.  Nor does it mean that temporary, momentary emotions are the same thing as embracing the dark side–we see Jedi having darker emotions all the time and nobody’s like OH SHIT I HAD A NEGATIVE FEELING, I’M A BAD JEDI.  No, they just don’t let it control them and don’t act based on those feelings. For example:

Negative emotions!  Worry, anger, sorrow!  All from “perfect” Jedi characters!  Characters who are Jedi Masters and who believe incredibly strongly in Jedi principles and teachings! And not once do any of them say, oh, shit, no, I’m not allowed to feel that–instead they express their feelings, but do not let those feelings control them. They do not embrace the darker emotions, but instead face them and then let them go. What would be the fundamental difference between how a Sith like Sidious, a sort of grey Jedi, like Ahsoka, and someone who tries to be the perfect ideal of a Jedi, like Obi-Wan, use and see the Force? It’s all about how you approach it, basically.  The dark side is not sustainable, the dark side corrupts, it cannot be balanced with the light, Matt Martin of the LFL story group explained that that’s one of the things George Lucas was very clear on and thus why “Gray Jedi” can’t really be a thing!  If someone tries to embrace the dark along side the light, eventually they will fall into the dark.  (Mystical, immortal creatures don’t count.) But momentary anger and upset and fear and selfish impulses are normal, so the goal Jedi strive towards isn’t the eradication of these things, but the honing of the skill to let go of them.  (As “letting go” is a theme that’s rewarded in the word of god commentary and in the narrative, such as Anakin letting go of his hate and rage and doing something selfless is what allows him to become a Force Ghost, the only way to achieve that is through selflessness, the dark side cannot do it.) Ahsoka, for all that she isn’t a Jedi later on, who probably allows herself more darker impulses before she lets go of them, because she doesn’t have the same weight of granted authority over others placed on her, is still very much a light side user, she’s not gray at all!  Same for Qui-Gon, while he’s something of a maverick, he very much adheres to the light side of the Force. As for Sidious and other dark siders, the Force is the Force is the Force, it’s all about how you use it.  While there’s a certain element of how this can manifest in external ways (ie, certain places are stronger in the dark or the light) that press down on the person from the outside, in using the dark side or the light side, it’s about how you approach it.  Do you do so with selfless intent?  Then you’re on the light side.  Do you do so with selfish intent?  Intending to hurt people, embracing the pain and suffering you can psychically or internally feel?  Then you’re on the dark side. It’s about how you choose to act on the things inside you, what you choose to hold onto and what you choose to work towards letting go. "Knowing that the film was made for a young audience, I was trying to say, in a simple way, that there is a God and that there is both a good side and a bad side.  You have a choice between them, but the world works better if you’re on the good side.” –George Lucas The light is about how your feelings should be cherished, but you cannot let them rule over you, because you’ll hurt people.  Like Ezra getting so afraid when the Grand Inquisitor threatened Kanan, that he caused the fyrnocks around him to attack and could have really hurt someone.  Like Padawan Dooku cannot tell his own feelings from what he thinks is an external source of the dark side in Dooku: Jedi Lost.  Like Anakin gets so angry in a training session that he literally brings the training room’s ceiling down on them before Yoda saves them, because he couldn’t control himself in Choose Your Destiny: An Obi-Wan & Anakin Adventure.  Like Obi-Wan says in The Clone Wars, it’s not like (romantic) feelings aren’t allowed, they’re natural.  But he senses a deep well of rage in Anakin and he needs to face that and deal with it. The Jedi are about, “Get your shit together because, when you have level 100 psychic abilities, you can hurt people, so you have to get a grip on that.  Because the dark side lies, it twists things, it lingers in your head and poisons your thoughts, it’s not a reliable narrator.”

[kimjongdaely]

The Art of Sin [Chapter 6]

Gang!AU, Racer!AU, Tattoo Artist!AU

Pairing: Chen x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual situations, vandalism

Summary: He’s an artist. He does it all for the ‘art.’ Tattooing. Racing. Sex. All because he thinks they’re beautiful. There’s no one here that doesn’t know his name, because it’s everywhere. On every graffiti-filled wall, every tattooed skin, every cheer of the crowd. His name is there somewhere, because it’s all his—this world. And when he lays his eyes on you—well, he’s never seen anything more beautiful. And he’s going to make you his masterpiece.

Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3 [M]│Chapter 4 [M]│Chapter 5 [M]│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8 [M]

The sun beats down on you, sweat dripping down the side of your face and you try to quicken your strides, eager to get to somewhere cool. Throwing open the doors of the garage, their AC is a blessed relief. Byun hangs half-way off the reception counter, his bored grin greeting you like always. “Hey there. Here for Chen again?”

You nod while fanning yourself, the tank top you wear practically soaked with your sweat. Summer days are the worst. Byun points to the tattoo parlor, “Well, you know where to find him.”

Chen is cleaning his tools when you enter, and he greets you with his usual smile. “Hey, princess. Visiting so soon? Well, not that I mind.” There’s a sly edge to his tone now, as he leans in to give you a peck on the cheek.

You grin back at him. All you want lately is to see him, every minute feeling longer than the last when you can’t. Being with him makes you calm and excited all at once, and you savor every second with him.

As if you’ve gotten addicted to him.

As if you’ve fallen in love with him—

What a dangerous feeling to have. You know how these stories end, all too well. You’ll fall head over heels in love with this mysterious person and you’ll be ripped apart faster than you can blink. He’ll rip you apart.

He’ll trample on your heart and you’ll be abandoned.

So you have to keep this feeling a secret, no matter what. Just keep smiling like you’ve always have, and you’ll be able to stay next to him. Never take him too seriously, that way you’ll never be hurt.

“Wanna go for a drive, princess?” Chen asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. Good thing the AC is blasting, or else you would’ve turned into a puddle by now. Still, the garage is much too hot.

“You sure? What if a customer comes?” You raise a brow at him as he begins to lead you out. Chanyeol isn’t here as he usually is, you notice.

“It’s fine.” He answers casually, dismissing it with a shrug. “They’ll be back.”

For the tattoo or for him, you wonder. You wouldn’t be surprised if he gets some returning customers just because he has a pretty face. “Alright then, your call.”

He leads you outside where his white Nissan Skyline is parked. His car is always polished to perfection, several of his designs drawn across the hood and doors. It’s a perfect display of his artistic skills, the white of the car acting as a canvas.

But...wait.

Something’s wrong.

As you get closer to the familiar car, you clearly see that the windshield glass had been shattered. Not only that, but there are several long, deep scratch marks that stretch over the side of his car.

You gasp at the sight, knowing how much this car means to Chen. You glance at him, afraid of his reaction.

You feel a icy shiver roll down your spine, your skin prickling in fear. You’ve never seen Chen look that way before. His face is calm, so calm, but it’s cold. His eyes are filled with a chilling anger, the silent kind, the most deadly kind. Like a snake bidding its time before it sinks its teeth into its prey. The kind of look that insinuates the calm before a world-wrecking storm.

He doesn’t move for what feels like an eternity and a second all at once. Then he carefully fishes his phone out from his pocket, dialing a number and smiles. “Hey D.O. When you’re done with your work, could you take the white Nissan Skyline away? Yeah, you know the one...uh huh...no, I want it destroyed.”

“What?” You gasp, clutching onto his arm to stop him. “But that’s your favorite car! It’s just a scratch, it can be fixed!”

He glances at you, such an frigid look that makes you swallow thickly, your grip on him loosening. He ends the call, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Fixed?” His voice is soft, but there’s a terrifying edge to it. He chuckles darkly. “No. Something broken can never be perfect again. I don’t need anything that’s not perfect.”

Then he walks away, hands in his pockets and humming a tune like he didn’t just destroy his most prized possession. Like nothing just happened.

You shiver—tremble—feeling your knees go weak. It’s only a matter of time before you, too, will be thrown away like that.

So you must hide these feelings. 

Deeper.

Deeper.

“You know who did it?” Chanyeol asks taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Glancing at Kai, Chen nods. “Probably the guys from the last race.”

“Great.” Sehun sighs, rolling his neck, his dark puffy hair falling over his eyes. “I love dealing with sore losers. So what are we gonna do? Should we tell Suho?”

Chen wrinkles his nose at the thought, loathing the idea of a scolding. Hey, it’s not his fault this world works like this. You gotta live somehow, even if you break all the damn rules. “Let’s not. Suho’s been plenty busy himself. They just keyed my car, no biggie.”

“No biggie?” Chanyeol raises a skeptical brow, tapping his long fingers against his knee, the cigarette ashes falling onto the ground. “You loved that car, man.”

“Loved.” He repeats, the word quiet and heavy. A shadow passes through his eyes, a look the others know all too well to comment on.

“So what are we gonna do?” Kai asks, tilting his head at Chen. “I’m not about to let some fucker trample all over us like this.”

Chen grins, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. “If they want a rematch, so be it.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Kai scowls. “We don’t do rematches. Our turf, our rules and they lost.”

“Yeah, well, if they’re gonna be stirring up trouble, I’d rather you guys have a rematch rather than fucking each other up, you know?” Sehun grins. “It’ll make my job heck of a lot easier.”

“Fuck that.” Kai says, but Chen only laughs, slapping his back a few times.

“Chill man; I’ll do the rematch myself. I’ll take on a hundred of those bastards if I have to—I’ll still win, fair and square.”

“What a load of bullshit.” Chanyeol snickers. “But I’ll enjoy it for sure either way.”

“Keep it on the down-low, ‘kay? Don’t leave us any messes to clean up. Suho’ll be real fucking pissed.” Sehun says, earning an eager nod from Chen.

They’re still skeptical of this, of course. Chen’s been known to get into a lot of trouble—rather minor ones for sure, but trouble nonetheless. It’s rare to see him so excited about something when he’s usually so uncaring about anything. Still, it’s none of their business and they’re in no position to stop him.

“Alright.” Chanyeol shrugs, putting out his cigarette. “Go for it then.”

You walk into the tattoo parlor again, greeting Byun as per your usual routine now. This time though, Byun tells you that Chen isn’t here.

“What? Where is he?” Another race, perhaps? He doesn’t have his car anymore though...so did he get another one?

“Met up with some people.” Byun answers vaguely. “Don’t worry. You can wait here if you want, but it stinks like hell so I’d recommend you come back later.”

“Um,” you wring your hands against the skirt you’re wearing. “Who is he meeting?”

Byun let’s out a sly grin, looking up at you from where he’s sprawled over his counter. “What’s wrong? Scared he’s cheating on you?”

Your cheeks heat up immediately as you shoo away the very thought, appalled he would say such thing. “No! Of course not. I’m just...worried. He seemed really upset about his car, so...”

“Heh, I guess he is.” Byun shrugs. “He went to have a rematch with those jerks from the last race. He said they were probably the ones who keyed his car.”

You gasp, feeling a wave of anxiousness as you recall the faces of those racers. They didn’t seem to take their loss lightly—if keying Chen’s car is any indication. They’d probably do anything to win this rematch. “Where are they meeting?”

“Whoa there, calm down.” Byun waves his hand at you. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Please, Byun.” You grab his arm, unconsciously digging your nails into him. “I’m really, really worried. Please tell me.”

He winces, seizing your hands quickly in attempt to pry you off. You can see the boys in the garage start to take notice, stopping with whatever they were tinkling with to stare at you.

“Okay, okay! I can tell you, but it’s not where a good girl like you should go. And you can’t do anything even if you go anyways.”

“I’m really not a good girl, Byun.” You say, forcing out a tight smile. “I don’t care about anything, I just want to see him, make sure he’s okay.”

“Well,” he sighs, giving in. He rips a piece of paper from a notepad, scribbling down an address. “Here. Just...I warned you, alright? And Chen isn’t the type to change his mind easily.”

You clutch the paper tightly, thanking him.

You’re not the type to change your mind easily either.

“Well would ya lookie here.” The man from the race hollers when he gets out of his car. What was his name again? Damn, maybe Chen should’ve made an effort to remember their names before calling them up. “Who would’ve thought the cheater would want a rematch? Feelin’ guilty, boy?”

Chen smiles, swallowing the desire to laugh his ass off. Guilty? Him? It should definitely be the other way around, right? “You’re the sore loser here. Can’t take a hit and now you’re calling me a cheater?”

The man scowls, grabbing Chen by the collar. He’s as strong as he looks, but all brawn and no brain.

Chen quickly puts up his hands in a sign of surrender, the smile still on his face, unfazed. “Hey, now. Let’s just have a rematch fair and square. That’s the best solution, right?”

With a scoff, the man shoves Chen back, a confident grin growing on his face.

A red flag for trouble.

“Sure, pretty boy. Let’s have a rematch fair and square.” His friends start to giggle behind him, and Chen mentally rolls his eyes. Yeah, he knew they’d have some underhand tricks up their sleeves. He’s still confident he’ll win though and even if he doesn’t...well, he tries not to think of that right now.

“Rules?” He asks.

“None.” The man answers, gesturing towards the dusty road that stretches on into the distance. “Just get to the finish line.”

Well, his turf, his rules. Chen shrugs and begins to get into his car when he sees a taxi pull up nearby. Odd, he thinks, this place is pretty secluded.

But then the person that gets out makes him nearly choke on his own spit, and he gets out again, jogging towards you.

“Yo, where ya goin’?” His opponents yell after him, but he ignores them for now. He grabs your arm, pulling you to face him.

“What are you doing here?”

He looks shocked, and maybe even angry. It’s a stern expression you’ve never seen on his face before, but you stand firm and stare back at him. “I was worried.” You glance at the parked cars, and at the familiar men with several new faces. You turn back to him. “You gonna race him?”

“Of course.” Chen answers, scoffing. “No one messes with us and gets away scot free.”

“I’m coming too.” You say, resolute.

“No you’re not.”

“I am.” You pull your arm from his grip, storming your way towards the car you recognize from EXO’s garage. Chen follows you closely, a string of complaints that go unheard. You get into the passenger seat and slam the door closed.

“The fuck!” Chen yells, knocking on your window and tugging at the door handle to get it open. “Get out! This isn’t your race. Get the fuck out, now!”

You ignore him completely, turning away. Chen continues like that for a while longer before the opponents begin to grow impatient.

“You racin’ or what?” They snarl out, eyes narrowing on the two of you threateningly. “You makin’ fun of us?”

Chen stops, but continues to stare at you. Even without looking, even with glass between you, you can feel the heat of his glare. He takes a deep breath, perhaps to stop himself from breaking the car window, and finally slips into the driver’s seat.

“You’re going to fucking regret this.”

“I won’t.” You answer.

You see the race flag being raised, and the sound of the starting gunshot rings in your ear.

Previous Chapter [M]│Next Chapter

The Art of Sin Mini Masterlist

EXO Customs Collab Masterlist

A/N: After a bazillion years, things are finally kicking off now. And between you and me, I’d hang on real tight. :)

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[dawnwave16]

Marinette aka Irakusa-chan

So I might or might not continue this, I’ll see what everyone thinks first...

Marinette had always loved video games. Her father had gotten her hooked on UMS when she had been very young and she had followed her passion from there. She also loved fashion design and knew that if her designing took off, she would need to be able to speak at least one language other then French. She chose Japanese and when the VRMMORPG SAO came out she had paid the extra fee to get both the nerve gear and game shipped to Paris so that she could play it. She had woken up extra early to make sure she could play it when it launched, logged in under the game ID of Irakusa (Nettle) and had loved every second of it until she had found that she couldn’t log out.

Instead of panicking like many of the others did when the announcement came that they were now in what was essentially a death game, she had followed two boys into the alley and asked if she could join the younger of the two when he headed out. Kirito, for that, was his name, had been reluctant at first but her reasoning of being safer with someone watching his back had agreed and their partnership grew from there. She had let him claim the name Beater after they beat the first-floor boss but had refused to leave his side.

Together they had worked their way through the floors, watching each other’s backs and keeping each other alive. Somewhere along the line, they had fallen in love with each other too and when they had retrieved the revival item they had agreed to get married so the if one of them died the other could revive them. They occasionally worked with Asuna too and while it was clear to anyone that had eyes that Asuna liked Kirito, Kirito only had eyes for Marinette. In the end, Asuna had settled for being good friends to both of them and had let herself fall for Klein instead. They made an odd couple but it worked and everyone was happy.

When Kirito and Irakusa had found Yui, Klien and Asuna had been contacted and they had worked together to try and find out her origins. All four of them had been devastated when she had finally remembered everything after touching the admin console, and both Asuna and Irakusa had celebrated when Kirito had managed to save her as an in-game item. When Kirito had found his Duel Weilding unique skill they had been startled. They had been even more startled when she found a unique skill of her own in her menu, Shurikenjutsu. It had taken some experimentation but they had discovered that this let her conceal her weapons, something she enjoyed doing anyway as she generally made all of their casual clothes with the sowing skill.

When they had reached the 75th floor and defeated the Skull Reaper, Irakusa had been relieved. They only had 25 floors left was all that had run through her mind. Then Kirito had thrown the curveball at everyone by revealing that Heathcliff was Kayaba and had challenged him to the winner takes all duel. She had watched with her heart in her throat as they had fought and Marinette as Irakusa had broken through the paralysis to save Kirito’s life at the cost of her own at the end without a second thought. Finding themselves on a ledge watching as Aincrad had deleted itself had been a blessing as they had been able to reveal their IRL identities to each other as well as her being able to finally tell him she was in France and that she would find her way to him as soon as she could.

That had turned out to be harder than expected as her parents had wanted to smother her with love almost as soon as she’d woken up. She had managed to get hold of Kirito a week later though and despite the distance, they had sworn to keep dating. She had even managed to convince her parents to let her get an Amusphere and to let her play ALO once she had completed enough physiotherapy to regain some of the muscle mass she had lost during her time in SAO. Whenever she wasn’t chatting to Kirito and doing her physio she was working her way through the school work that she had missed. Thankfully she had been a year ahead so she only needed to catch up a single year's worth of work instead of two, however, she was determined to catch up as much as she could and hopefully stay that year ahead.

This turned out to be easy for her as, despite being in-game, there had been enough people of school-going age that the players that had been school teachers IRL had banded together to create a school of sorts so that they didn’t have too much to catch up. It also turned out that by following the Japanese curriculum as she had been, she had pushed ahead in certain subjects and hadn’t needed to catch up with them at all!

She had gone into ALO when she had received the news about Asuna and the three hundred and made her way to meet up with the assault team at the base of the world tree. Leafa had been stunned when Kirito had kissed her as had many of the ALO players but they didn’t pay them much attention as they worked together to free everyone.

It wasn’t too long after all of that that she had received the Ladybug Miraculous. She had had a long talk with Tikki about what would work and what wouldn’t with regards to her weapon skills from SAO vs her ladybug skills but in the end, they had agreed that if she used too many of those skills she would probable reveal identity by accident so she kept most of her skills hidden. Marinette had soon discovered that being Ladybug had helped her recover much more then the physio did which she absolutely loved. When she had told Kirito about it he had been slightly jealous but he had also been relieved because he knew that her plan was push through school as fast as she could so that she could move to Japan.

Two years after SAO and 6 months after becoming Ladybug a new girl joined her class. Marinette hadn’t paid much attention to her, preferring to concentrate on keeping her momentum in class going. She felt she lost enough learning time due to being Ladybug and wanted nothing more than to ignore all the drama that seemed to erupt around Lila. She had even said as much quite absently one day when one of the people in her class had tried to make her join everyone during lunch. It seemed that Lila had taken this as a challenge and tried everything she could think of to try and make everyone hate Marinette. While it worked on some of the class there were those it hadn’t worked on completely so even though Marinette found herself as an outsider yet again, Lila wasn’t satisfied.

It was completely by accident that Marinette toppled all of Lila’s lies in the end. Unknown to Marinette, Lila had organised for the whole class to be able to log in to ALO on a Saturday afternoon. She had promised to show them all the best areas to level up and had even promised to introduce the class to Kirito, Klein, Asuna and Irakusa. Max had been over the moon at the thought of meeting such high profile players and Lila had figured out how to lie when they didn’t get to meet them. Unfortunately, the area that Lila had led the class into was a high-level area that none of them should have ventured anywhere near. Lila had screamed and tried to run away as soon as a mob had appeared, however, Adrien had reacted just as quickly and had stopped her. The class had tried working together to beat it but even combined, they just couldn’t beat the mob as their attacks didn’t do enough damage.

Just as they were about to accept defeat the mob shattered, leaving them all stunned. The figure stood up slowly then turned around revealing Marinette’s features.

“What are you doing here?” Lila growled at her, “I didn’t invite you nor did I organise an AmuShere for you!” The class blinked in surprise at that thoughtless admission. Lila had told them that Marinette had declined the opportunity to join them.

“I was in the area,” Marinette said calmly. “There is meant to be a mock raid in about an hour and we, that is my party and myself, wanted to grind a little. It probably won’t add much to our levels but it’s still fun.”

“Who the hell would party with a loser like you?” Lila was growing angrier by the minute. First Marinette had shown up with no warning and beat something none of them could beat, now she was acting innocent about it.

“That would be us,” a male voice sounded from behind the class and they turned to look at the newcomer. Their first thought was that he was wearing too much black, much like Marinette was wearing too much blue. They then looked behind him and saw several more players standing calmly and chatting among themselves. They seemed to be a completely mixed group though. They could see almost every race that you could play as represented within the group.

Max was the next one to speak, “Seriously though, how did you take that mob out? We couldn’t even damage it. Lila said this was a good area for noob grinding.” As he said that the group that Marinette was with started laughing quite hard. This, in turn, made the class glared at them. Marinette almost regretted all the time she had spent teaching her group French when that happened.

“Noob area? This isn’t a noob area!” Asuna said between breaths. “This is for the higher level players as more often than not only high-level mobs spawn here.”

The class looked troubled until Adrien looked at Marinette.

“How high level are we talking here?” He asked while looking at the class in concern.

“Not as high as say the mobs in the Labyrinth, but still high enough to give someone who has done some serious grinding at least some XP per kill,” Marinette explained almost pensively, while the rest of her group nodded. It was then that the class realised that none of the people with Marinette had introduced themselves.

“By the way, who are you, people?” Nino asked.

“Oh!” Marinette said looking startled. “Well you already know who I am IRL but as it’s rude to use real names in-game, I’m called Irakusa.”

“Kirito.”

“Asuna.”

“Leafa.”

“Klein.”

“Agil.”

“Lisbeth.”

“Silica.”

“Sinon.”

“And I’m Yui!” A navigation pixie said bursting out of Kirito’s pocket.

Even though they were in-game, Lila looked like she was about to faint. Max looked like he wanted to start asking all sorts of questions and Chloe just looked like she would rather be elsewhere.

“I’d forgotten you played these and that you were the only person in France that was trapped in SAO,” she stated, her boredom evident in her tone. The class whipped round to stare at both girls as Marinette laughed.

“Well, your dad did stop the press from printing my name as far as I know.” Marinette chirped with a smile. She then walked over to Kirito and let her head rest on his shoulder.

Max looked at her in awe, “Are you really Irakusa?”

“Yup,” she replied happily then checked the notification that popped up. “Hey, guys they calling for everyone who wants to join the boss room raid to head there now. Do you want to stay around here or join in the raid?”

“Let’s join the raid for old times sake.” Asuna said and the rest of the group nodded. The group’s wings came out quickly and to the class’ disbelief, they flew off without any of them using the weird hand control remote that they all had to use.

Before they could say anything however all of them found themselves back in the real world, their session having timed out. They handed back all the hired gear without protest then turned to Lila. They wanted answers and they knew just where to get them from!

[ruthoakenshield]

Thorin and the Gem Carver (Part 14)

Thorin heads out of your chambers and goes to the business district of Erebor. He finds Bofur’s and Bifur’s toy shoppe and enters. He chuckles when he hears a few pebbles squealing “Melhekhul!” (My King!!!) when they see him. They drop to the bows or curtseys that they had been taught from a toddling age to do when they saw any of the Royal family. “Rise little pebbles. What have you been up to in here?” he inquires of them.

They spend a few minutes showing him the latest toys His friends have created, and he smiles warmly at the little dwarf children. He chuckles and buys them each one toy to go off and play with. They are speechless and it takes them a full minute to process that the King just bought them toys to play with. They forget themselves, rush to him and hug his legs and then run out the door with their new toys thanking him as they do so. Bifur chuckles and asks him what he is doing in his humble toy shoppe.

“I wanted to talk to you and Bofur. Jade is back on bed rest and is getting agitated at not being able to move around. She apparently is an excellent artist, and I was wondering if the two of you could come up with some device that would allow her to draw while laying on her back. Something that would let her lie on her back, and support her arm as she draws, and would hold the paper in place with a hard backing so she could draw with ease.” Thorin explains. Bifur nods and tells Thorin that they will get to work on it immediately and will bring it up to her chamber once it is completed.

Thorin thanks him and gives him some coin for the project. Then he heads out and goes in search of a nice drawing journal and pencils for you. He enters a few shops looking around for them, but doesn’t see what he is looking for. He inquires where would be a good place to find them and is directed to a shop off in the corner of the mountain. He approaches it and finds an elderly dwarrowdam there with ghostly white hair. She greets him respectfully and inquires how she may be of service to him.

Thorin explains to her what he is looking for and why and she grins. “I have just the thing for you, Melhekhul! (My King!)” she tells him and hobbles over to the counter. She reaches down and pulls out a beautiful blue velvet bundle. She hugs it, then sighs and hobbles nervously back to her King and with a bowed head hands him the bundle with trembling fingers.

Thorin opens the blue velvet and sees a beautiful leather-bound book with elegant gold and silver designs on it. Thorin grins and nods. “A Gem carver’s journal fit for royalty.” She says caressing the delicate and quite intricate leather tooling embossed with the gold and silver leaf.

Thorin goes to hand her coin and she shakes her head. “No, my King, I have kept it for a long time, too nervous to give it to you. I made it many years ago, before Smaug attacked, when your Father spoke of finding you a wife. I had intended to give it to you when you wed, as a gift back then; but it did not happen and I am old now, and wish to give it to you before I enter Mandos’ halls. I had heard you had found your One finally and were courting her. I had hoped to be able to give it to you before I departed this world. Do with it as you wish, Melhekhul!” She tells Thorin.

He sighs. “Please. Let me give you something for it, for I intended to give my One a book to put her drawings into for when she can carve again. For me to be able to give it to her as a courting gift I must purchase it or make it myself.” He tells her.

She chuckles. “Ah, I see.” She says. “If it is not too bold of me, you may purchase it with a kiss to this old, wrinkly cheek. Will that suffice?” she asks. Thorin chuckles and nods. “Aye, that will suffice.” He tells her. He leans down and gives her a kiss on the cheek. She blushes and nods. “I wish you well in your courting, my King. May the book bless your One with many fond memories and much joy.” She tells him, gently patting his arm as it rested on her shoulder. He nods, gives her a warm smile, and thanks her again, then heads out. He enters another shop looking for drawing pencils and finds some in the back corner of the store.

He is hidden from the sight of those entering the store and freezes in his tracks when he hears some dwarves gossiping. “I heard she is a cripple… can’t even feed herself, from what I hear. Why would anyone want to court someone like that?” One dwarf says. “I heard she is incredibly beautiful though and is a Master Gem Carver.” Another says. “How can she be a Master Gem carver if she is a cripple and can’t even feed herself! And how would it make our kingdom look to have a cripple for a queen?!? He could do so much better than her!” the first one says, “So what if she is a sight to see, what use is that to us if she can’t contribute to the community?” the first dwarf says.

Thorin is growling quietly, listening to them talk of his beloved like that.

“What are you saying, Dolrac, that just because someone can’t move by themselves, that they are of no use?!? She can still talk and grace us with her beauty and her presence! And it would not reflect poorly on our kingdom if we had a cripple for a queen! It shows our king sees beyond the physical and admires what true beauty is. That which is on the inside. Besides, I hear she has a good sense of humor and is a bit of a tease when she is in the mood. There are other ways to contribute that she can partake of, Dolrac. Give her time. From what I hear, she is still trying to find her way now that she can’t carve. I’m sure she has other untapped skills she isn’t aware of that she will be able to do once she recovers from her injuries. Who knows, perhaps she is an excellent negotiator, like Balin is! Did you hear he adopted her?!?” The second dwarf scolds.

Thorin silently steps behind the two dwarves and clears his throat, drawing their attention. The two dwarves’ eyes get huge and they drop to their knees apologizing profusely.

Thorin growls. ‘Dolrac, it is not your place to put judgement on my One without even meeting her! Before her injuries she was as skilled as any Gem Carver here, perhaps more so. It is indeed unfortunate that she is unable to carve and suffers from her injuries, but Mahal assures me she will one day walk and carve again, that it will just take time for her to heal and regain her strength. So, I’ll thank you to keep your trap shut in regards to my One unless it is in praise or defense of her and her character.” He thunders.

He turns to the other dwarf and says more calmly, “I thank you for defending my One. You are indeed correct in what you said of her. She indeed is beautiful, inside and out. She has a good wit and can be a tease when in the mood. And she is trying to figure out life now that she can’t carve at the moment. We are exploring other skills with her to see what interests her and what she is able to do.” Thorin tells the dwarf.

He bows to Thorin. “Please, Melhekhul! (My King), will you give her my well wishes and tell her I hope she finds new skills she can enjoy until she is able to carve once again. I look forward to seeing what all she is capable of carving.” He says.

“If you wish to see her skills with carving wood, travel to Rohan and ask the King and his kin to show you what Jade the Gem Carver has carved for them. They will happily show you.” Thorin suggests. “She is as skilled with carving wood as she is with carving Gems.” He adds. “She has also carved much for Lord Elrond and his elves as well as for Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn and their elves.” Thorin informs him. “Any of them would be happy to show you Jade’s work.

The dwarf nods. “Thank You, Melhekhul! I will remember that when I am in those areas again.” He tells Thorin. Nodding, Thorin motions for them to make their purchases.

They do and quickly leave. The business owner apologizes for the disrespect they showed towards the One of the King. Thorin thanks him and pays for the purchases. “Please tell her I wish her well and I pray to Mahal that she is able to find new skills to keep her occupied until she can carve once more.” He says. Thorin nods and heads out.

He wanders around for a while, thinking of you and he sighs. He heads down to the heart of the mountain once again and kneels before Mahal and Yavannah’s statues. Unsure what to do or say. Not sure to voice how he feels and his concerns.

Yavanna’s statue shifts and she appears before him sensing his uncertainty. “What troubles you dear Thorin?” she asks. He looks up and bows his head. “Many things, but I do not know how to put them into words to describe them.” He says and sighs, sitting on his knees before her. “Walk with me, and let us talk of it, perhaps you will find your words.” She says.

They walk along the nearby lake and Thorin tells her what has been going on with you since your injury and with your recovery thus far. He tells her about the two dwarrow he overheard in the one shop, and how depressed you are that you can’t seem to get ahead in your ability to walk and how much you are struggling with not being as independent as you were.

Thorin explains how every time you seem to make headway a few steps, something happens that yanks you back to square one again. “Yavanna, all she has ever known is carving and drawing her plans for her carving projects. She is used to traveling and the simple life. She says she feels caged like a beast on display and is not happy here. How can I ask her to marry me when she doesn’t want to stay here and isn’t happy?” Thorin’s heart aches at the thought of you leaving him.

Yavanna is quiet for a few minutes. “Thorin you said she was regaining feeling when there was traction on her spine?” she asked. He nodded. “And you said Lord Elrond made mention that something must be blocking the path for communication between the nerves in her legs and her spine?” she inquires. Thorin nods again. “Stay here a moment. I will be right back.” She says and disappears.

Thorin sighs and looks down at his gift for you. He pulls the book from the velvet, then sits on a boulder and examines the book closer. He opens the book, and something falls out of the book’s first page. He frowns and picks it up.

It is a note. “May this book bless you as you fill it’s pages as it blessed me making it for you. May the Peace and blessings of Mahal and Yavannah, be forever with you.” Thorin sighs and places the note back into the book. He flips the page and notices it is written on. “To Prince Thorin and His Lovely One. I wish you all the happiness in the world and many blessings of Yavannah and Mahal. May the gods bless you both with peace and joy.” Sincerely, Miranda Goldenleaf, daughter of Erebor, Royal book binder.

Thorin smiles seeing the blessing bestowed to his One and himself from the old Dwarrowdam. Just then Yavannah and Mahal appear before Thorin and he startles, dropping the book.

Mahal chuckles and bends to pick it up. He grins seeing the cover. “Ahh, I see Miss Miranda finally worked up the courage to give it to you.” He says as he examines the cover. “She has had this in her possession for a very long time.” He tells Thorin.

Thorin looks at him confused. Mahal chuckles. “She had a crush on you for many, many years, Thorin. She made this for you when she was learning her craft. It was a test her mentor gave her to create the most intricate and detailed work she could. “Something fit for a king.”

She came to us in tears and prayed, asking for our help and blessing on her project. We blessed her and she became one of the best book binders in the dwarven kingdom. Your Grandfather appointed her as the Royal book binder before the Gold Sickness began to affect him.

Her work fills your library. Her only wish was to get a kiss from you. ‘Just one,’ she said, ‘and I’d die a happy dwarrowdam.’” Mahal recalls. “She never married and dedicated her life to creating beauty for Erebor’s royal family and it’s libraries.”

Thorin’s eyes get huge. “SHE made all our book’s covers?!?” he says surprised. Mahal nods with a smile. “Yes, Thorin. And you have made her a happy dwarrowdam by giving her the kiss she always yearned for. She will enter our halls soon, as her time here is drawing short. Mahal informs Thorin.

“I wish I would’ve known of her sooner. I’ve always wondered who made the beautiful covers for the books I had read. Her skill is becoming a lost art. Ori would’ve loved to learn from her how to do what she has done, I’m sure there are others as well who would’ve loved to learn how. Had I known, I would have asked her to take him on as an apprentice.” Thorin says sadly.

“I will grand her enough time here, Thorin, to teach Ori what she knows so the knowledge is not lost. I know he will record it in detail and faithfully for future generations for when she is gone.” Mahal says. He looks at her creation and enchants it so that it and its contents never fade and never wears away.

He hands it back to Thorin who reverently wraps it in the blue velvet with the package of Pencils at it’s side.

“Now, Yavanna tells me your One is having troubles with getting her back to heal properly, that it is hindering her progress in recovering?” Mahal asks. Thorin nods and explains to Mahal what they figured out so far. He nods.

“When Lord Elrond comes, he will use his magic to fix what the problem is. Once that happens, I will visit her and make it so she has no more problems with the bones shifting out of place there. It is a weak spot for her right now, like a crack in a stone foundation. I will fill in the crack and strengthen it so it is no longer weak, and it will be as it was before her fall. From then on, she should be able to progress with the recovery unhindered.” Mahal tells Thorin. “You have been a blessing to her, Thorin. Without your support, she would have given up.” Mahal adds.

“She will need to stay in bed for one week after Lord Elrond and I heal her back. To give the body time to adapt to the healing and to give the nerves time to reconnect properly. If she does not abide by this, she WILL NOT walk again.” Mahal warns. Thorin sighs. “I will do my best to keep her in bed. She already is wearied by it and feels caged. I worry this will put her into a deep despair.” He sighs.

“Stay by her side, Thorin. Give her the gifts you have bought for her. Continue to encourage her. I have given her other gifts besides the wood, metal and gem carving that she has yet to discover. Help her to find them.

Bofur and Bifur already have plans for the project you have asked them to create. Jade will need it soon to lift her spirits and to give her hope.” He says. “Have Fili take over ruling, temporarily until Jade is able to walk again on her own. She will need you at her side during this time coming up.” Mahal warns Thorin. “I will do as you instruct, Mahal.” Thorin says with a bow.

“Thorin, give Jade this as a gift from us.” Yavannah says. She hands him a green Jade box.

When he opens it, his jaw drops. He looks up at her and she just giggles. Inside the box, nestled in lush green velvet, are two tubes of silver and a silver ring. On each of the long hair beads are three small iridescent stones that he has never seen before. “The Stones are called ‘Yavanna’s tears’.” She explains to him. “They form when I cry as I beg my husband to help someone, usually a dwarrow. If he decides to help them, the stones are given to them as a token of the promised aid.” She explains further.

Thorin looks down at them and caresses them reverently. Surrounding them are carved the runes stating, “Mistress Gem Carver of the highest degree, favored of Mahal, honored by Yavanna.”

The same stone sits on the ring, only it is larger, with the same runes surrounding the stone only in reverse. Carved into the stone deeply are the braided pattern Thorin’s courting braid had made when the maid put it into the diamond design on the side of your head.

“This is Jade’s signet ring, gifted by us to her. That no one any longer doubts her skill level nor her talents. The hair beads are to be placed above your courting beads for now, and once you marry, they are to be placed above your wedding beads to her.

Jade’s hair is never to be cut other than to trim the split ends off. She and any future Mistress Gem Carvers are to wear the diamond patterns in their hair that Jade’s handmaid placed into Jade’s hair when she used your courting braid to create the pattern. You and the line of Durin will be given and taught a new courting braid pattern for the line of Durin by Yavanna when the time comes for them to need it. Remind Balin that he needs to make Jade beads signifying his adoption of her. He has forgotten it with all that has been going on. Have him braid his family braid just behind her courting braid, under the diamond pattern.

When Jade readies to leave her chambers from now on, she is to have her courting and eventual wedding braids in this diamond pattern, so that the beads are able to be seen and recognized and not drag on the floor.

The diamond pattern will now be the symbol for Mistress Gem Carvers Guild and as such they are to be recognized as equals to the Master Gem carvers Guild, who now will be the male counterpart. Any dwarrowdam reaching the skill of a Master Gem Carver will be given the title of Mistress Gem Carver and are to be shown the same respect as a Master carver.” Mahal tells Thorin. Repeating it twice in two different ways to emphasize it’s importance that both the guild as a whole as well as the dwarrowdam both be given equal respect and honor as their male counterparts.

“Have Balin draw up an edict stating this and that it is by order of Mahal and Yavanna. We will put our seals onto it that none will ever question said order. Then call your kingdom and the other kingdoms of Middle Earth to come to a celebration and there you are to formally announce this edict but not until Jade is ready. Then at this celebration, announce her as the first Mistress Gem Carver by order of Mahal and Yavanna. Present her with the beads and the ring in front of your kingdom and all the other kingdoms of Middle Earth, that none will further question her skills and abilities nor the dwarrowdams who come after her in these fields.” Mahal instructs.

Thorin is speechless and simply nods, then looks down at the gift. “Thank you.” He whispers. He hears Yavanna’s giggle and Mahal’s low rumbling laugh and when he looks up, they are gone. There is a light shining out from the blue velvet and Thorin looks at it puzzled. He unwraps the book once more and opens the cover. Inside is an additional note that wasn’t there before. It states:

“My dearest Jade, this book has been blessed by Yavanna and myself so that it and it’s contents never fade from memory, will never wear out and will survive till the ending of the world. Use it to preserve the talents of the Mistress Gem Carver’s guild (the dwarrowdam’s new counterpart to the Master Gem Carver’s guild). You, My Dear Jade, are the first dwarrowdam we name as Mistress Gem Carver. Your skills and talents being honed by your Father from infancy. You carve better than any dwarrow I have ever created or ever will create. None will compare to you. Teach others what you have learned, you WILL carve again, both in wood and in gems and precious metals. Do not despair, my sweet Jade. You have not been forgotten by us. We are proud of you and all you have overcome.”

~Mahal and Yavanna.

Below each of the signatures were the seals of both gods burned into the parchment. Thorin smiles and says quietly, “Thank you once again for giving us hope.” He slips the notes into the page with the note from Miranda Goldenleaf. Then carefully wraps the book and the box of pencils into the blue velvet. He picks it up along with the jade box and leaves the heart of the mountain feeling lighter in heart and happy knowing there is still hope for you.

More Chapters to come.

Likes, comments and Reblogs always welcomed happily! Feel free to leave any of them, just please, give credit where it’s due.

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[tigerkirby215]

5e Pyke the Bloodharbor Ripper build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

You look familiar... You. You were on my blog, looking at my builds.

Well here’s yet another League build, and yet another edgelord champion. I don’t know if it’s a problem with me or a problem with League but I seem to be drawn to characters with edgy personas... at least lore-wise. In game I spam Sona and Yuumi like an eGirl thot.

And Kayn. And Warwick. Alright I might just be an edgelord.

Regardless Pyke is always a character I’ve enjoyed more for his lore than his actual gameplay. Back in my DOTA days I used to main Bounty Hunter (and I might branch out to DOTA builds someday; who knows?) and while Pyke captures that gameplay to some extent he’s never really been my cup of tea. Gondar was considerably more light-hearted than Pyke and focused a lot more on information gathering than the raw killing that Pyke does. Even so I think Pyke was a great addition to the lore of Bilgewater with the rest of the region seemingly existing only as an excuse to put pirates into League of Legends. (Ironically enough I actually think the other character that displays Bilgewater’s lore the best is Tahm Kench, and considering that most people see him as a meme that’s really saying something.)

But regardless: you’re here for the build, not to read me ramble about why I made it. I can definitely say that if you genuinely want to play Pyke you’re certainly one for the roleplay, though try not to be overly edgy.

GOALS

Harpooner - Armed with an iconic Bone Skewer it’ll find its way stabbed into the stomachs or thrown into the backs of many victims.

Until it all sinks... - Pyke swims in the shadows before surfacing to pounce his prey. He did also swim in the water once.

Did I “support” right? - While we won’t have any healing Pyke has plenty of utility in his own right.

RACE

Officially Pyke is some sort of drowned revenant, and while I know there is a Revenant race in the Gothic Heroes UA it’s rather unbalanced and unfortunately doesn’t really work for what we’re trying to do here. The Gothic Heroes Revenant has a goal, but Pyke’s mind is warped so he thinks his goal is never done. While the health regen is in character for Pyke’s Gift of the Drowned Ones the other features don’t really help us or retain the aquatic theme of Pyke.

With that in mind I had a few ideas: Water Genasi was my first idea to have a character infused with the strength of the sea but unfortunately it’s focused far too much on magic as well as Constitution, both of which Pyke doesn’t have. My next thought was for a Kalashtar to have the spirit of the drowned one infused into you, but they’re tied deeply into their dream lore and less-so into the two-minds aspect.

But then I realized there’s a race that gets infused with parts from the ocean, and even starts out human just like Pyke! This is going to sound mad but you’re going to want a Simic Hybrid from Guildmaster’s Guide to Ravnica. While in-lore they receive their gifts from the deep from science we can reflavor it as gifts from the ocean itself. Anyways Simic Hybrids see their Constitution increase by 2 and a stat of their choice increase by 1: choose Dexterity for a better chance fighting the beasts below before your line is cut. You also get Darkvision up to 60 feet and Animal Enhancements. Since Animal Enhancement is tied to level I’ll be addressing it in the build instead of in the race section because this is getting long enough as is. And for your language of choice I’d opt for Elvish, mainly because it’s unlikely you’ll meet any Vedalken this side of the sea.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Fighting the monsters of Bilgewater in their own territory takes a great degree of nimbleness to avoid getting your line cut.

14; CHARISMA - All sea captains fear the Bloodharbor Ripper, and Charisma is a requirement to multiclass.

13; INTELLIGENCE - You need to be smart to hunt any prey, be it a monstrous fish or... more dangerous game...

12; CONSTITUTION - While not in-character for Pyke to be tanky we sadly can’t convert our health into damage in this build.

10; WISDOM - Even if you have to do it to survive jumping into monster-infested waters is not the best lifestyle choice.

8; STRENGTH - While perhaps in-character to drop Wisdom instead we simply don’t need Strength in this build.

BACKGROUND

There are several backgrounds for a man lost at sea but Pirate is the best for one who came back with a vengeance. You get the Athletics and Perception skills to scout out your prey and wrestle with it in deep tide, as well as proficiency with Water Vehicles and Navigator’s Tools to command your own ship someday. But the main feature we’re here for is Bad Reputation so everyone knows that you’re the Bloodharbor Ripper. If you’re in a civilized settlement people will be afraid of being put on your list, and will let you get away with minor crimes. Murder isn’t a minor crime though, so pull someone into an alley if they do end up showing up on your list.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue for the extra proficiencies: take Intimidation, Stealth, Investigation, and Acrobatics as your skills of choice. You also get Expertise in two of those skills and you’re going to want Investigation to find your quarry and Stealth to sneak up on them.

But of course the main reason for the expertise in Stealth is so we can Sneak Attack. Once per turn you can do an extra d6 damage with an attack if an enemy is within 5 feet of your ADC or if you have Advantage on the attack by jumping out of water. You must be using a finesse weapon such as your Bone Skewer, which for now would likely just be a Short Sword since you haven’t received your gifts from the deep yet.

But your time in Bilgewater did allow you to learn Thieves’ Cant, a mix of words and phrases that are actually a code among criminals. They may be speaking about the latest big catch but you know what they’re really talking about is cutting your line.

But while you were under the undertow you did receive some Animal Enhancement. As a Simic Hybrid you can choose between three Enhancement options at level 1: Manta Glide lets you fall slowly and glide as you do so, Nimble Climber gives you a climbing speed equal to your walking speed, but Underwater Adaptation is the obvious choice for the drowned man. You gain a swimming speed equal to your walking speed and can breath underwater. You drowned once but it won’t happen again.

NOTE: If you’re playing outside of an aquatic campaign Nimble Climber would be your next best bet to remaining in character. You can also opt to just play a Variant Human instead of a Simic Hybrid if you don’t mind the lack of swimming speed however, since Simic Hybrid was mainly picked for the aquatic implications.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Second level Rogues get Cunning Action, allowing you to use your quick wit to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a bonus action. A Bilgewater Harpooner needs to be quick on their feat and always trust their crew. But when that trust is lost...

LEVEL 3 - WARLOCK 1

As you’re lost to The Drowned Ones you receive their blessing to become a Warlock. The Drowned Ones could be seen as The Undying in many senses, as they keep you from death to serve them.

WHY NOT LURKER IN THE DEEP? - Lurker in the deep focuses a lot more on using the strength of those below more directly. Pike meanwhile merely serves them as an assassin. Not only that but Lurker in the Deep has far more of a focus on tentacles than knives, which is more of Illaoi’s thing.

Undying Warlocks are considered Among the Dead. They get the Spare the Dying cantrip and have Advantage against diseases, and undead enemies may not attack you as they see you as one of their own. If an undead attacks you they have to make a Wisdom save against your Warlock spell DC or choose a new target, losing the attack if there is no one else to hit. If you succeed on the save or you hit them they’re immune to this effect for 24 hours, so perhaps don’t pick fights with Sion.

But along with Spare the Dying you also get access to more Spellcasting. You learn 2 cantrips from the Warlock spell list: Lighting Lure will let you throw your Bone Skewer out at an enemy within 15 feet. They must make a Strength saving throw or be pulled 10 feet towards you, taking a d8 of Lightning damage if they’re pulled into melee range. Eldritch Blast lets you throw your Bone Skewer further down range - make a ranged spell attack against a target you can see and on a hit they take a d10 force damage.

You also learn 2 first level spells from the Warlock list: False Life comes from The Undying patron list and lets you “regenerate” some health in the darkness. You gain a d4 + 4 temporary hitpoints when you cast this spell. That temp HP lasts for an hour or until it’s cut off of you.

Illusory Script meanwhile is the perfect spell to write your list. You can cast this spell while writing with lead-based ink worth at least 10 gold to imbue the words with powerful illusion magic for 10 days. Creatures you designate can read the message normally but any other creature won’t be able to read it, or will see a completely different message as long as it’s written in a language you know. If the spell is dispelled the message is dispelled, so no one will know that your list is truly unending... unless they have truesight, as they’ll be able to read it under the light of a pink ward.

LEVEL 4 - WARLOCK 2

2nd level Warlocks get Eldritch Invocations and the only one we really need is Grasp of Hadar. Every time you hit an enemy with your Eldritch Blast you can pull them 10 feet closer, so you can drag ‘em under and get your hands dirty. You other choice of invocation really doesn’t matter: Armor of Shadows can be a good boost to your AC but I personally like Mask of Many Faces to hide behind your facemask before finding your prey.

You also get another spell and Hex will let you mark your prey as a gift to the Drowned Ones. Whenever you hit a target that’s Hexed you do an extra d6 Necrotic damage, and the target has disadvantage on a type of ability check of your choosing. I’d personally choose Strength so that they can’t swim up when you pull them down to drown.

LEVEL 5 - ROGUE 3

3rd level Rogues get access to their Roguish Archetype and the Soul Knife subclass from the Psionics UA will make sure you always have a Bone Skewer. The Soul Knife gets a Psionic Enhancement: you can either have a 30 foot Telepathy, some extra health and Toughness equal to your Intelligence modifier plus your Rogue level, or 5 feet of extra Walking Speed. These all have their uses but while it’s perhaps not in-flavor Toughness is probably your most consistently useful enhancement.

WHY NOT REVIVED? - Revived focuses far more on the manipulation of death, and has a heavier skill focus than the Soul Knife. But put in simple terms Soul Knife has nearly all the abilities I’d want from Pyke without having to multiclass too much. Undying Warlock is already more than enough undeath for Pyke, and it also helps give him some Deep One patrons.

I should also mention I made this build before the latest Psionics Options Revisited UA. This build uses old features so discuss with your DM if you want to use the newer version.

But of course the main reason to go for the Soul Knife is your Psychic Blade. You can create a bone skewer in your hand, or two bone skewers if you’re feeling particularly vicious. You can’t hold anything in the hand you hold the blade but you can choose to dispel them without using an action.

The blade has the finesse and light properties so you can dual wield them and use your Dexterity as your attack modifier. It deals 1d6 psychic damage on a hit and you can throw it 30 feet normally or 60 feet with disadvantage. Regardless of if you throw your knife or stab with it you can proc your Sneak Attack, which now deals 2d6 damage. If you throw the blade as part of an attack it vanishes immediately after it hits or misses, and the blade(s) disappear the instant it leaves your hand or if you’re incapacitated.

You also get another Animal Enhancement as a Simic Hybrid so you may as well get more AC from the Carapace enhancement, which increases your AC by 1 as long as you’re not wearing Heavy Armor. The only other enhancement I’d maybe suggest is Nimble Climber, which you could’ve taken at level 1. But simply put more AC is more useful, and was limited to us for a reason. You can consider the extra AC as the salt soaked into your skin, and your lust for vengeance allowing you to shrug off attacks.

(Artwork by FMM CAT)

LEVEL 6 - ROGUE 4

4th level Rogues get an Ability Score Improvement: increase your Dexterity for deadlier strikes with your Bone Skewer.

LEVEL 7 - ROGUE 5

At 5th level Rogues get Uncanny Dodge, letting them reduce the damage of an attack by half as a reaction. Is a female bounty hunter shooting you? Dive in the ghostly waters and set yourself up for the kill, especially since your Sneak Attack is also increased to 3d6 at this level.

LEVEL 8 - ROGUE 6

6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills: I’d choose Intimidation and Athletics. A frightened target won’t be able to lie to you, and Athletics Expertise will compensate for your low Strength score.

LEVEL 9 - ROGUE 7

7th level Rogues get Evasion: if you’re targeted with a Dexterity-based skill shot you can dash out of the way and take no damage on a successful saving throw, or only half damage if you fail. Pyke is far more evasive than the average support, and can get up and personal to do 4d6 with Sneak Attack.

LEVEL 10 - ROGUE 8

8th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement and we’ll max out our Dexterity for even deadlier strikes with your Bone Skewer.

LEVEL 11 - ROGUE 9

At 9th level you get the Terrifying Blade Soul Knife feature. When you damage a creature with your Psychic Blade you can force them to make a Wisdom saving throw based on your Intelligence modifier. If they fail the creature is frightened of you until the start of your next turn, but on a successful save they become immune to this feature for 24 hours. Traitors run from their past, or face them head on. Regardless you’ll kill them all, especially with a 5d6 Sneak Attack.

LEVEL 12 - ROGUE 10

10th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement, and you may have noticed our uneven Intelligence score? The Observant Feat will let us see when traitors talk about their coin. You can increase one of your mental stats by 1 (we’ll improve Intelligence) and you can read a creature’s lips to understand what they’re saying as long as you share a language. Your passive Perception and Investigation also increase by 5, so you can be aware of any backstabbers trying to slip away.

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 11

11th level Rogues get Reliable Talent, meaning that any roll below a 10 in a skill you’re proficient in is treated as a 10. This means that your lowest possible roll with the skills your proficient in is:

25 on Stealth

22 on Intimidation or Investigation

20 on Acrobatics

19 on Athletics

15 on Perception

Your Sneak Attack also increases to 6d6.

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 12

12th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement and we’ll want more Intelligence to know how to truly terrify our foes.

LEVEL 15 - ROGUE 13

13th level Soul Knife Rogues can dive into spectral waters with Psychic Veil. As an action you become invisible for 10 minutes. This invisibility ends if you make an attack or if you force a creature to make a saving throw. You can become invisible a number of times equal to your Intelligence modifier and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 7d6 now, and just so you know attacking out of Invisibility counts as a Sneak Attack.

(Pyke concept art by Riot Games)

LEVEL 16 - ROGUE 14

14th level Rogues borrow some techniques from the monk in the jungle and get a 10 foot radius Blindsense to chase your prey.

LEVEL 17 - ROGUE 15

15th level Rogues get Slippery Mind for proficiency in Wisdom saving throws. It’s not much but considering that you have a +0 to Wisdom it certainly helps. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 8d6 now.

LEVEL 18 - ROGUE 16

16th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement and more Intelligence will lead to more Ghostwater Dives and better Terrifying Blades.

LEVEL 19 - ROGUE 17

17th level Soul Knife Rogues can Rend Mind for a powerful Phantom Undertow. If you have a Psychic Blade manifested you can force a creature you can see within 30 feet of you to make an Intelligence saving throw. The target takes 12d6 psychic damage and is stunned until the start of your next turn on a failed save, but only takes half as much on a successful save and isn’t stunned. If you are hidden from the target it has disadvantage on the save, and one of your Psychic Blades vanishes after using this feature.

You can use this feature a number of times equal to your Intelligence modifier and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. Pro tip: attacks against Stunned enemies automatically have Advantage so you can use your 9d6 Sneak Attack damage.

LEVEL 20 - ROGUE 18

Our final level is the 18th level in Rogue for Elusive so that no attack can have Advantage against you. "Death keeps spitting me right back out."

FINAL BUILD

PROS

I smell panic - Soul Knife on its own is a very powerful subclass. Having an unlimited supply of weapons that are viable at both melee and range, the ability to turn invisible, and tons of crowd control with both fears and stuns makes for an incredible damage dealer who can provide a lot of utility to the party.

Big Beast - It wasn’t my intention when making this build but for a Rogue you’re remarkably tanky. You have an above-average constitution and Psionic Enhancement buffing your health to a respectable level, and the Carapace Animal Enhancement turns what would be a +5 to AC (from your Dexterity) to a +6. This means that you have 17 AC with Leather Armor, 18 with Studded, and a 19 AC with Armor of Shadows! As a Rogue, meaning you have Uncanny Dodge and Evasion to further increase your survivability! Not to mention you have two Warlock slots to cast False Life is the fight starts to go south.

Crews share the wealth - Expertise in Intimidation and Investigation are helpful, and having Spare the Dying means that your Cleric can focus on stronger cantrips instead. But having 10 minutes of invisibility is insanely helpful for infiltration.

CONS

Every kill makes the voices louder - The two levels in Warlock are done almost entirely for flavor, and while we do get some useful features it does still mean you lose out on Stroke of Luck. If you have a DM who likes roleplay you can take the Magic Initiate feat for Wizards to get Lightning Lure along with potentially Ray of Frost to simulate a long-ranged “pull” and be a Warlock without actually being a Warlock. But the honest truth is that Soul Knife on its own is strong enough and the ability to pull people closer to you is largely redundant.

My list just got longer - Soul Knife uses their Bonus Action a lot more than other Rogues, meaning that you can’t use your Cunning Action to hide as often. Yes you can make two knives at a time but this still means that you’ll have to spend another bonus action to “reload” after throwing two hooks. And if both your hands are full you can’t hold your list!

Swim or Sink - Unfortunately you don’t get to max out your Intelligence modifier, which is needed for a lot of your class features. However the far bigger issue is your saving throws: proficiency in Wisdom saves help but your Charisma and Constitution are stuck at +2 and your Strength is forever at a pitiful -1. While you can compensate for strength checks with Expertise in Athletics your saving throws are less than desirable.

But problems only come for those without a plan. Make your list, check it twice, find out who’s naughty or nice before gutting them. Make sure your crew’s got your back and that they aren’t going to cut your line too. You’ve died before, but it doesn’t hurt not to do it again.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

[shedreamsofstars]

Cataclysm of the Heart - Chapter 4

Start from the beginning  | Next Chapter

Sonic awoke to total darkness, blinking madly as he questioned where he was. For a split second, he found himself wondering what the time was. Something moved beside him and instinctively, he jumped backwards.

Or at least, he attempted to.

He jumped back with his usual force but came to an abrupt halt as he hit his head, hard and fast enough to see stars flashing before him. He groaned in pain, trying to feel the damage with his fingers only to find his hands were trapped by his side.

Panic flickered within him like static. What was going on?

Oh.

OH.

The base. The laser. The ceiling.

Everything flooded back into focus and he blinked into the dark. With the collapsed building around him, there was not a hint of blue sky anywhere to be found. Who knew how much rubble lay atop of him.

Wait, no,

Not him, them.

“Amy?” he called, remembering he’d lunged for her right before the rubble came collapsing down around them. There was only silence, and then a soft squeak he hoped wasn’t a mouse. “Amy,” he called again, hating that he couldn’t move, couldn’t see.

“Sonic,” a voice called out sleepily. And then, with a little more enthusiasm, as if she too had just suddenly remembered their current predicament. “Sonic, are you okay?”

Her voice was mere inches from his own, and it took all his effort to resist the urge to squirm away from her like he usually did. Not that he could move anyway. “I think so. Are you?”

“I can’t move, but I’m fine.”

That was something at least. The pair of them remaining unharmed was a miracle in itself. “How are we still alive?” he wondered aloud. He wasn’t expecting an answer, but Amy piped up regardless.

“My hammer,” she said. “It stopped us from getting crushed, but it looks like we’re trapped here. If I move it, everything will collapse onto us.”

From what he could tell, she was right. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel the handle of the hammer digging into his thigh, and they did seem to be nestled in an air pocket of some kind. An involuntary shiver ran through him as he realised what would have happened had Amy not had the good sense, or skill, to pull her hammer out when she had.

Although, maybe it was all for nothing since it seemed they were stuck down here. Try as he might, he couldn’t spin dash them out of here. Not with Amy so close to him. The risk of hurting her wasn’t one he would ever take, and that meant that all he could do was sit tight.

In a small enclosed space like this, with the pair of them breathing rapidly, the oxygen wasn’t likely to last them very long. Maybe they had hours, maybe they had minutes. Sonic had no idea how long he’d been out to gauge the situation.

“How long have we been down here?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a while, maybe not? I think I fell asleep or something … I can’t remember.” There was a momentary pause in her train of thought before she called his name again, a question in the darkness. “Sonic?”

“What is it Amy?”

“How … how are we getting out?”

Her words were like a knife to the gut. He couldn’t very well tell her the truth - that this was likely it for them. That even if Tails knew where to find them, the likelihood of him getting to them under all this rubble in time was almost non-existent. If he even could that was. Who knew what havoc Eggman was unleashing on the world beyond.

He had to do something to change the subject. Anything to make the sadness fade in her final moments. If they were both to meet ends, then he would let her meet it with a smile at least. He got a bad feeling in his gut at the thought, but he didn’t have time to ponder it. He didn’t know how long they had.

“Amy,” he said after a long while, voice as gentle as silk. “There’s something you need to know.”

“Sonic?” she said softly.

It was a blessing that he couldn’t see her face. It made saying what he needed to so much easier. He almost changed his mind then, realising that duplicity probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. But if he could give her the one thing she had always proclaimed to want the most out of life, surely he could stomach it this once. For her.

“If this is it for us, then … I need you to know the truth. I, uh … I always …,” he paused. Sonic was already picturing the joy on her face, the glitter that sparkled in her eyes as he spoke his next words. “I love you Amy.”

For her.

... xxx ...

“Alright,” Tails said quietly. “I think we’ve done all we can here Sonic. Why don’t you move onto the next block and make a start there? I’ll catch up with you after my meeting with the mayor. I wanted to talk about more efficient ways to deal with…” He looked around sadly at the wreckage of what once used to be a street of homes.

“Alright bud. I’ll see you later.”

Tails forced a tight-lipped smile before hovering off in the direction of the town hall. Sonic began the short walk to the next block. There were already other people around helping to clear the rubble from the ground and Sonic joined in alongside them.

Tails.

Perhaps the only friend Sonic still had left, his brother till the very end. Tails had tried to understand what had driven him to do what he had done and held no resentment towards him, but even that hadn't stopped the sheer disappointment that had fallen over him when Sonic had told him the truth about Amy.

Amy.

Where to start with Amy Rose. The one person who had been hurt the most by him when all he'd wanted was for her to be happy. He would never forget the inconsolable despair that had dawned on her when he'd told her the truth. That everything he'd said was a lie.

He'd wanted to be honest with her when they'd realised that Eggman had failed. He hadn't wanted either of them to live a lie, so why did it feel like he was breaking into a thousand pieces anyway.

As he tossed broken beams and crumbling bricks into the large disposal unit, a delivery truck of some sort that once delivered furniture but now only delivered wreckage to a designated place outside the city, the sound of his name drew his attention.

He glanced around, only to find that the sound was coming from above him. He looked up in time to see Cream flying towards him, landing clumsy beside him. He reached a hand out to steady her.

“Sonic! We can’t find her anywhere,” Cream said breathlessly. He didn’t even need to wait for the rabbit to clarify who she was talking about, there was no way it could be anyone other than Amy.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said calmly, grabbing the rabbit by the shoulders. “Take it easy Cream. Tell me what happened?”

“That’s just it, we don’t know. Everyone saw Amy fight with you, and then she just … disappeared. I haven’t heard from her in hours and I’m really worried.”

Sonic swallowed, thinking back on their argument at the vigil. What was it she’d said again? I'm sorry I'm such a sacrifice for you. Amy knew that wasn’t true, she had to. But even still, something twisted inside him like a knot.

“Have you checked she’s not home, or at that tea shop she loves?” He wasn’t even sure the place was still standing but it was worth a shot.

“She’s not there. Believe me Sonic, I’ve checked everywhere. She was angry and wanted to be alone … I’m worried she’s gone off to do something stupid.”

Now that was a concept he was intimately familiar with. And try as he might to try and convince himself otherwise, Amy was just like him. She’d need an outlet for her pain. And since he was still standing, that meant that she’d likely gone to possibly the only other person in the world she hated more than him.

“I think I know where she is Cream. Go home and wait for me there. I don’t want you getting involved in this.”

Cream bit her lip. “She’s gone to Eggman hasn’t she?” Sonic only gave her a helpless look, hoping they were both wrong.

It took him several stops at abandoned bases before he finally found her, hacking viciously at the bots that were surrounding her. Sonic didn’t hesitate to jump in, reducing as many of Eggman’s goons to nothing but wires and sparks.

“What are you doing here!” Amy shrieked over the noise of the destruction around them. Her eyes were wild with fury and Sonic almost shrank back as she levelled them at him. He turned away while he still could, crushing another oncoming robot beneath his shoes.

“Helping you,” he fired back.

“I think it’s pretty clear I don’t need your help Sonic!” Another bot succumbed to her hammer, followed by another and another as Amy took her rage out on the metal cases that attacked them.

She was breathing heavily as the final robot fell to the ground before her, wires sparking violently, and with no more robots to attack, Amy rounded on him. She stalked up to him furiously, and he got the distinct feeling that she had been holding her feelings back earlier more for his sake than her own.

“You,” she yelled, pressing a finger to his chest. “How dare you try to help me. I have had quite enough of that and I don’t need any more of it.”

“Yes, you do,” he murmured back, half wondering if he had a death wish as Amy’s eyes flared angrily. “You don’t need to do all this to make your point Amy,” he said gesturing around them. “I hurt you, but I did it for you.”

“You don’t care about me, you just like to pretend you do to sate whatever hero complex you have going on,” she said, echoing her own words from the vigil.

“That’s not true,” Sonic said, a thread of anger coming loose. “I did what I did for you, why can’t anybody but me see that?”

The air sizzled with tension and they stared at one another helplessly, realising too late that something was casting a sinister shadow above them. Sonic felt a sudden spark at his back and was conscious long enough to see the shock on Amy’s face before he fell face first into the dark void of unconsciousness.