#unfortunately i do not have what it would take to survive those conditions and that is okay
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bardic-irritation · 6 months ago
Text
maybe unpopular opinion but I'm kinda loving Elias so far? like as a Person I would hate him but as a Character? kicking my feet and giggling everytime he makes a stupid joke or menaces someone. slayyyy old man. terrorizing your employees is so good for the Plot.
117 notes · View notes
chaotic-archaeologist · 4 months ago
Note
https://nypost.com/2024/08/28/world-news/boy-4-accidentally-smashes-bronze-age-jar-that-was-at-least-3500-years-old/
Your thoughts?
Personally, I'm kinda sick of museums being required to cater to kids so much. If you're going to do this open air exhibit, kids who don't know how to keep their hands to themselves just shouldn't be allowed in. The glass is there for this very reason.
Actually, I'm with the museum on this one. Is it unfortunate that the vase was broken? Yes. Was the vase a valuable piece of the past? Also yes. But I think the museum did something very cool by not having the artifacts behind glass and are handling this with good grace and the sense to make this a learning opportunity.
Sometimes we overlook the fact that museums often attempt to arrest or freeze artifacts in time. They are kept in controlled conditions to prevent them from deteriorating and even treated to reverse damage. Many things on display on museums are elevated beyond their original value, alienated from their original purpose, and closed off from interaction.
It's incredible that this jar survived as long as it did—and its age is what makes it special—but at the end of the day, it is still a jar. It has now experienced the thing that happens to pretty much every jar that has been or will be. After all, decay is an extant form of life. (If you want to read a very well written and interesting take on decay and archaeology, check out this article by Caitlin DeSilvey.)
The article I linked above provides some important context and the update that the museum is planning on using this as an opportunity to teach about the conservation process. The jar's story is not over; it is being pieced back together and in this next chapter in its life it will be able to tell two stories: one of its life and the other of its rebirth. The museum's approach embraces that, exactly like the Japanese art of Kintsugi.
I also agree with the museum's decision not to punish the child or his family. Things go wrong in museums all the time despite their highly controlled environments, and this is why they have artifacts insured. Sometimes the thing that happens is a child, and by and large museums do not seek damages.
I would encourage you to rethink your stance on museums and children. Museums are for everyone. Children have a right to experience museums and what they have to offer just like anyone else. There are also many studies that discuss how going to museums benefits children.
In this case, perhaps the exhibit design was slightly flawed, but the four year old boy accidentally knocked the jar over because he was curious about what was inside and wanted to investigate. Curiosity is exactly what museums should be encouraging. In an ideal world that curiosity would have been channeled into some other kind of engagement, but the folks who work in museums have a lot on their plates and cannot plan everything perfectly all the time. Even if they could, they often do not have the resources to do so.
Finally, the AP article mentions that the boy and his family were visiting the museum to get away from Hezbollah rocket fire. Regardless of your opinions on the current conflict, everyone deserves to have a safe place to exist. That museums can serve as those spaces is an honor.
I commend the Hecht Museum and the people working there. They 1) successfully provided a place of learning and refuge, 2) opted not for a punitive approach—which is often the default Western model for justice—but a compassionate one, and 3) are using this twist of fate to create programming that will further engage the public.
@museeeuuuum and @museum-spaces would you care to comment?
-Reid
298 notes · View notes
closer-to-jungkook · 21 days ago
Text
Esati | Ch 1
Tumblr media
Pairing: Mercenary!Jungkook x ?? Female!Reader
Summary: When past comes knocking on your door wearing the face of unknown dangers, you can either refuse acknowledging it and be a sitting duck or find out what it was that turned your world upside down all those years ago—that has come back yet again to hunt you—with a stranger promising to keep you safe, by your side. One thing is sure: secrets will unfold. And it would not be anything you could've imagined.
Word Count: 8.4k
Genre: Fantasy au; adventure; action. Fluff; angst; future smut(??)
Rating: 18+ (violence and mature themes)
Warnings: Fighting ig. Not much for this chapter
Published: 18th December 2024
A/n: well look who's here. I finally completed the first chapter!! It was actually longer than this but I cut some parts since it seemed better that way. I guess that means the next chapter will come out earlier, I have more than half of it already written.
I really have a good feeling about this story, I have it all mapped out so if anyone is wondering if I will complete this or not then rest assured that no matter what I will for sure finish this! A special thank you to my friend Jae for cheering me on (you're the real one Jan I love you)
I'm really looking forward to y'alls response to this, I hope you enjoy reading it🤍
A/n 2: I thought I'd post it tomorrow but I don't want to wait so here it goes. I'm posting it at the 2 in the morning. Hope you enjoy. Hope I didn't make any mistakes.
Moodboard
Map and Glossary
Esati Masterlist
Tumblr media
They say winter is cruel. Harsh and unforgiving. Anyone unfortunate enough to encounter it at its worst seldom survives it. It only knows how to take, how to steal—the warmth from your blood, the hope in your eyes, the life from your soul. The white snow spread like a blanket over the lands and waters alike: beautiful yet a warning of destruction for all.
All but one. Alastair has found no comfort other than these sharp winds and freezing soils in a long time. He took in a deep breath of peace, something he hadn't had the pleasure of for days—or had it been weeks?
It's been so long since he started his travels. Traveller. He liked calling himself that, much better than introducing himself as someone who's being hunted. 
It's been so long; being on the run didn't grant him a minute of peace, but now he could feel a stillness in his mind. A quiet, which only came from knowing no eyes were following him anymore.
He walked higher up the mountains; the path was rocky and difficult to climb, but he managed even in his current state. It also ensured that had anyone been on his trail, he'd have easily known.
But as much as these snowy mountains were liberating to his mind, his body was not in the same condition. After being chased, hunted, and hurt, his body was battered and starting to feel more numb with each passing hour.
A final feeling washed over his mind. Like he knew it was coming. He was dying.
And it seemed fitting. Appropriate. Considering there wasn't anything left for him to do. He fulfilled his duty and played his part in the play of universe, for which he was chosen by Cianbhàta himself. After all, he hadn't escaped for his own safety. It was something greater than his existence that needed to be protected. 
But now, he could sense it. His time was up.
No. No, he couldn't die like this. Not yet.
It felt selfish of him to still be holding on to this useless life. He tried hard, convinced himself it was over, but still, he couldn't figure out why he felt this strong need to keep moving.
His foot sunk in the soft snow, and he stumbled; leaning against a leafless tree he looked past the branches, up at the gray sky. Looking and searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the almighty so he could get his answers himself.
He closed his eyes and sat down completely with his head against the rough, cold bark. "Oh almighty," he called out in a croak.
"Forgive your subject for being greedy, asking for more than you've graciously offered to us already. My body is giving up, but my heart is tearing apart," cough, "screaming, screaming at me that I'm leaving something unfinished," His eyes opened, filled with tears of anguished helplessness, "give me a sign. A reason, to-"
He coughed sharply, gasping and wheezing as the numbing winter air pushed its way past his lips, burning a path down his throat. Black spots started blinking across his vision, sorely standing out against the blurry white of the snow. This is it. This is how he will meet his end; he was sure of it.
Accepting his fate, he let his eyes close shut. His bones ached, and his skin was frozen cold. Just as he thought this was it, his ears picked up a faint sound. He didn't pay it any mind; if someone was here to capture him, it would be useless. He would be dead before anyone reached him.
But the more he heard, the clearer the voice became. A cry. He must be losing his mind. He blamed his growing incapability to differentiate in sounds and scenes the more he breathed in the bitter cold air. 
But the cries started again.
His eyes snapped open, he was sure now that the cries were real.
Gaining a burst of strength he didn't know he was capable of anymore, he dragged himself up with the help of the tree and listened for more sounds—trying to locate the direction where it was coming from.
His feet started moving in a direction with thicker vegetation on their own, like they already knew where to go before his ears could actually locate the source. 
He rushed past more bare trees, shrubs, and boulders and came face to face with a series of rocks protruding from the mountain, covered in a thin layer of snow, and then looked around trying to figure out the source where the sound could be coming from—which he now realised couldn't be heard anymore.
To his right, there were more trees packed together tightly, and he considered going in that direction when he heard the tiniest whimper, which he would've missed if he hadn't strained his ears to catch any noise. 
The sound was coming from the rocky surface; confused, as there was no way something could get stuck between them, he looked around some more trying to figure it out when he noticed a hole in the far left side of one of the rocks near a tree growing close to the black rocks. 
The hole was—he found out upon a closer look—no bigger than the size to fit a small dog, it seemed that the snow couldn't reach here because of the thick roots protruding from above, and the shrubbery that was still green and flourishing in the winter, but that's not what surprised him—it was the woven bamboo basket and a thick green blanket covering it and the whimpers that were coming from that basket.
He pulled it out, pulled the covers back, and revealed—
A child.
A very cold child with blue lips and the faintest of breaths puffing past its mouth.
Urgency immediately seized his limbs as he brought the infant out of the basket and close to his chest. It is going to die; this was the only thought echoing in his mind.
He took off running in search of someone. Anyone. He couldn't let the child die.
He ran and ran, holding the baby close to his chest, tucked in his coat.
"Is someone out there!? Help!" There was no response. He knew the tribals lived in this place, but he couldn't be sure of the exact location. And he hadn't been in his right mind to try and get a sense of the direction to figure out where he was at that moment.
"Please," he begged, "it will not survive, please," he cried up towards the sky. The black dots were back in his vision, stronger than before, but before he could succumb to the darkness, he took one more careful look at the child in his arms and assessed its soft breaths.
What a beautiful child. Shame I couldn't save you. 
With that final thought, he tucked the tiny being close and let darkness take him under. 
Tumblr media
Warm. Everything felt so warm. Alastair hadn't felt warm in months. He shifted in his position, drifting in and out of consciousness.
The sound of fire crackling was what brought him out of his slumber at last. He blinked his eyes open, still a little dazed, and found himself lying on a cot in front of a blazing fire. He closed his eyes back immediately; his head hurt, and so would have his legs if they didn't feel numb already.
He tried to move his head, his neck protesting after being in that position for too long, and at first he couldn't, but his stubbornness won over his fatigue, and finally he managed to lift his head just a couple of inches. He tried to take in as much as his eyes allowed in that position and discovered that he was placed in a dark room. It seemed the walls were made of mud and the floor was wood.
Before he could think about how he got here, he heard the door behind him creak open. A chilly gust of wind entered the place along with the visitor. He tried turning his head again and just barely managed to lift it when the person came hurrying in front of him.
"Oh! You're awake," the person, who now he could see was an old woman, asked him happily, "must be confusing to wake up here, but not ya worry, ya were saved by our  gatherers." The woman continued, oddly cheerful, in her accented voice as she came around to sit on the mat beside his cot, her arms carrying something he couldn't focus on as she kept talking.
"Found ya freezing on the ground, oh, and ya girl is fine too! Strong child, Cianbhàta himself preserve the child."
Only now did he realise that the thing she put down on the floor wasn't a bundle of clothes but a child. The child—the girl—he found in the snow. She was staring at him, her dark eyes looking innocently up at him, and she definitely looked better too.
He was relieved. A little surprised how she survived long enough to make it here, wherever it is they were at, but he felt safe, and so he let the relief consume him.
He summarised what he remembered and what he was told just now and reached the conclusion that he was saved by these people—likely a mountain tribe—and was in their home right now; he saved the child, and now they think it's his child. That she's his daughter.
He opened his mouth to correct her, tell her that she wasn't his. That they might need to find her real parents. But somehow all that managed to escape was, "thank you for saving us."
"Not a problem! It brings honour to help our brothers in our  community." The woman said kindly and got up off the floor, "I'll go fetch more firewood and something for ya to eat, ya must be hungry too. I fed the child while ya were sleeping, so not worry about her." And with that she left the room.
He got up on his elbows and pulled himself into a sitting position; groaning, he looked at the infant now playing with her blanket.
She looked magical in the glow of the fire, and he felt an inexplicable affection for her.
He stared at her, with a mind full of hundreds of things, thoughts flowing faster than the warm water springs, but then she looked back up at him with those same dark eyes, and his brain stopped in its frenzy. She reached out, a hand making motions as if to grab the smoke rising from the fire. That was the moment everything became clear to him.
He'd decided. He will spend the rest of his life living and protecting this child; after all, she gave him a second chance at life. A will—a reason to live.
He will take this child as his own. He will do all he can to become a father for her.
And for the next decade and a half, he did just that.
Tumblr media
huff huff
Hurried footsteps echoed in the silence of the forest. With nothing but the sound of tired pants that carried their way through the saplings emerging from the frozen cold soil, raising their heads to greet the summer only to be trampled by the heavy steps running from everything it had ever known.
"Aghh," a yelp was heard as a lock of dark brown hair got stuck in a branch hanging too low.
What am I doing?
A sharp turn towards a safer path with fewer branches on the way down.
I'm running. He told me to run.
The moss on the uneven ground slipped from under your foot, making you stumble.
Am I dreaming?
You quickly got up, instincts telling you that you had to keep moving. There was no time to collect the few things that spilled from your bag at your fall; you only grabbed the leather journal and kept running. A few coins spilling out from your pouch tucked in your waist. The sound of them hitting the rocks painfully loud.
The forest became a blur; you couldn't focus on anything other than the pounding in your heart and the pain that your brain didn't have the time to register—both physical and emotional.
The way downhill was not too steep, but there were places where soil had shifted away, making it harder to navigate where there was solid ground and where you'll encounter a gaping hole ready to swallow your feet. You'd never been to these parts of the mountains. You never needed to; you lived on the other side. But you have no other option; this was the path your father said was safe and asked you to run to.
Your father. The man who made you leave. The one you were getting farther away from with every passing second. The man who you might never see again.
"Pa."
You let out a sob. Leaning a hand against a leafless tree to brace yourself. This place was a lot warmer than the snow-covered hill you called home; you were sweating—your tears getting mixed with the salt. The evening sun, halfway hidden down in the horizon, warmed your skin, but your insides were freezing cold. 
You left home. left him. How did it ever come to this?
Before today you had been living in a bliss, unaware of the possibilities that such a storm could stir up in your life, one that you never would see coming and snatch everything you held dear. 
You sniffled, thinking back to how everything was so normal and��okay just this morning. And now it's not. 
You stumbled, taking one step forward then the next. The sun had long disappeared, the moon hidden behind the clouds. The misty wind carried you forward, whispering a soft melody. You walked and walked, feet aching and heart heavy; your tears had dried off, but all you could do was move. 
There was a light shining in the distance. You didn't know how long you had already walked, but just a little more. A few steps. Another few. 
You reached the door, banging hard on it. The door opened, a middle-aged woman peeking out. 
She said something. She was talking to you. You were so tired. She was shouting now. 
But you couldn't hear her. Solid ground met the side of your head as you fell. Unconscious and numb. 
Tumblr media
An owl let out a hoot, breaking the quiet of the dawn. A gust of cool breeze made its way across the empty spaces among the trees, yet to be warmed by the rays of sun. The same breeze rushed into your home, tickling the hair on your neck, announcing their arrival through the jingles of the bells on your window. You forgot to shut them. Again.
You looked out the window at the fog weaving a blanket of white in the evergreen canopy it claimed as home till the sun rose and chased it away. For a moment, just one heartbeat, you thought of home. Remembered the cold of snow, the steam rising from potatoes straight out of the coals and in your gloved hands.
You let out a shaky exhale, willing the memories away.
You picked up the woven basket and strapped the hunting knife to your waist. On your way out you grabbed the hooded cloak off of the hook. Dressed in the dark green of the forest, you ventured away from the deeper parts of the wood where you lived on your way to collect the 'dawn lilies.' They could only be found near riverbanks and must be plucked before the sun came out. You ran out of those after making the previous supply of burn ointments.
The grass was soft under your boots, the morning dew getting soaked in the bottom of your pants. The air was crisp and tinged with a chill; one wouldn't be able to live in the dewy and wet cold of a place such as this without proper gear, but you had always been a little more resistant to the cold. Still, you made a mental note to grab some gloves when you would go to meet Kenzie the week after.
Winter was just around the corner, and you ought to be prepared for the changing season.
On your way to the river, you made a detour and took the longer path. Dense shrubbery with no definitive footmarks, a less walked path. Crouching down in a few spots, you checked on the snares you had set up yesterday. The wires and ropes twisted in the way you had learnt when you were seven. Three out of five and no luck. It looked like one of them was triggered, but whatever it was, it got away.
But the fourth one did not disappoint, as you found a marmot trapped and wriggling. Carefully moving it, you untangled the rope from around its body.
You took the knife out from your belt and nodded your head once, "Thank you for giving your life to sustain mine," and swiftly pushed the knife deep in its neck. Swift kill.
You checked the fifth one too. Empty. And continue on your way to the river.
Emerging from the forest line, you ran your gaze along the length of the riverbank, making sure no wild animal was there that would feel threatened by you or threaten your life. It would be unusual, though—for any predator to be here. You have never seen any wild animal that could put your life in danger in all the time you lived here. You concluded that these parts of the woods must not be suitable for them, hence making it safer for you to live.
As you look around, there are only the occasional critters roaming the forest floor. Small animals, those you saw plenty of. You made your way towards the small flowers growing close to the water and began collecting them.
You got up soon, flowers and some wild berries collected in your basket. It also held the meat from the marmot that you had just cleaned in the river, wrapped up in large leaves. Scanning the area once more, you got ready to make the trek back to your home.
I'd have to make another trip to collect some water later in the day.
On the way back, you took the shorter path. The one you used regularly. Munching on the berries as you walked.
Tumblr media
"Thank you, Mayah."
The tall girl gave you a smile in response as she heaved up the crates you had brought with you and started walking back towards the open door of the shop. 'Rennie's' written on a wooden board in bold letters. You pulled a wooden case from the wagon and handed it over to the other man, Kane, who stood there with arms stretched out.
"Is that the last one?" He asked, taking the heavy box.
"Yes, that is it." You grabbed your satchel and hopped off the wooden platform. "Take these ones straight to the storage,or else the potions may go bad." And he followed the girl into the shop.
Turning back to the carter, you handed him a silver coin; he examined it and then immediately said, "This would not be enough, miss."
You looked at him, confused. "Why not? It always takes this much. I would know; I travel to Fulroch every month."
You made ointments and health potions—a skill you had learned since childhood. That was what your father did, and you decided to continue on the same path as him.
Once a month, you would travel from your home, half a day's journey away from Fulroch, and sell them at the market here. You were not keen on making contact with many people—the lesser knew of you, the better—so it was comfortable for you to have secured a vendor who bought your products to then sell them himself, and on a fair rate too. This is how you've been doing business for the last few years.
"Ah, miss, you know nothing of the raids that happened down South?" You pushed your lips, eyebrows pulled down, raids? 
Before you could question him about it, he continued, "razed the whole town in days," he shook his head, "coins and cattle all gone. Those Aberrants," he sighed and tried coaxing the bulls attached to his wagon, who had started moving restlessly, "even the Lord turns his eyes another way when it comes to those Diels."
He continued to grumble some more before saying that he had to get going. You pulled a few copper pieces out of your pocket and handed them to him. As you watched him leave, you realised that someone was standing behind you.
"Kenzie," you said, turning back to the elder man.
"You look tired, miss." Kenzie replied, his wrinkle-covered face was kind as ever, and his voice warm. Meeting him always reminded you of a family you didn't have.
"The journey was long, and I left late today too. I'm fine, though. But that doesn't matter; what was that Carter talking about? Aberrants?"
"We shall talk inside, miss," his deep eyes swept the surroundings, and he started walking towards the back door. "Mayah? Bring a cup of water and also brew some tea, dear."
His daughter gave a short nod and went further inside the store, entering another set of doors.
You took a seat on the cot, and Kenzie did the same. "This far out, people are calling them raids," he started talking.
"And... they aren't?" You asked. You were never one to poke and prod about anything that had nothing to do with you. But this time you were curious; after all, this was not the first time you were hearing the name:
"Aberrants," he continued after taking a sip from the cup Mayah handed him. You thanked her when she did the same for you and mirrored him, "the second army of the Lord, I believe you know that much."
You nodded, also aware of how Lord Cras doesn't really have much control over them and lets them run wild. "They are bad news." Was what Pa once said. But that's all; word of their presence never came close to where you lived, and you never encountered them.
You stayed away from things that did not concern you. That's how you've lived.
"They came to a village south of Glenross first. Out of the blue, like they always did. No one knows where they come from or go to. But when they left," a grimace pulled itself on his face, "the village had become lifeless."
"Did they...?" You asked, your brows meeting in the middle as lines appeared between them. You feared they were killed.
"No. They just took everything. Valuables, grains, horses—"
"I suppose that's what a raid sounds like." You interrupted him in the middle, giving your empty water cup to Mayah, who came with a cup of tea in exchange—which you took with a grateful smile. His lips pursed as his eyes darted to his wall, on a painting of the forest on his right, before moving it back up the next second.
"Not quite. It was more than just that. Those deils brought a curse on the lands," Curse? This is not the first time you're hearing of something like this, but something about the tone in the old man's voice made you think of the stories from your childhood. The ones you had shut the doors to a long while ago, yet on the days the wind is stronger, you can hear their whispers rising with dust from between the cracks in the wood.
"By word of mouth, they drained the fertility from the soil and spat poison in the waters. The people became ill, so deathly ill." He coughed, chugging the rest of the water from his cup. "Nothing has come out of that town in the past half of the year. No yield, no supplies, no tax money that the incompetent Lord demands," Kenzie finished, his breath slightly laboured.
You made a note to make extra potions for him to use throughout the cold months. It did look like an extra harsh winter was casting its shadowy wings over the country. It is possible that your next trip down here might be the last one for this year.
You took his words in, trying to make sense of them. "And that's what caused an upsurge in prices?" You asked.
"No, that was not it. It has been months since the incident in there. They chose a small village at that time, but recently," he tried to continue but stopped as his daughter came back in the room, a hot water bag in hand.
"Don't speak so much at once, Pa," She scolded him gently in her soft voice. You looked at them, talking; your eyes that were tired just now had a glassy film to them, and your body stilled for just a second as she placed the bag on one of his shoulders. You turned your head away, focusing on the conversation.
"Then what caused it? All of a sudden?" You prodded, clearing your throat.
This time Mayah was the one who spoke, "It was after last month, when the same happened in Cunkeld." You've never been there, but you knew it took some time to reach there from Fulroch. 
Her face took on a grave expression, "this time though the country is suffering. Taxes are higher and commodities got expensive, we expect it to only get worse during winter."
You listened intently, forgetting about the tea in your hand.
"I fear what they are doing is more than just raids or spreading poison for just the wealth," sighed Kenzie, his eyes shut; you wanted to ask why he thought that and what more he believed was there. But you didn't. The less you got involved, the better, and you believed that you had already questioned about things more than you should have. 
Kenzie didn't look like he would be answering more of your questions either; he needed to rest. And so, you bid goodbye to Mayah, who handed you a small bag of coins. "I know it's not the whole amount—"
"Don't stress. Pay me the rest when you've sold all the stock," you smiled at her. Waving Kane off when he tried to walk you back.
Leaving out from the front this time, you slung your satchel across your body and decided to find a tavern for the night. It was late afternoon; the sound of bells ringing came from the center of the town having. The journey back would take hours, and it would be past midnight by the time you reach home. Not that you had any problem with traveling at night. But the wagon carters might not be too keen on that.
It didn't matter; you had errands to run either way, so you won't mind spending just one night here. And you were tired. You left later than expected in the morning; something had felt off, and you had checked around the perimeter. Although nothing was out of place, you still decided to be cautious, and it took some of your time.
So you started walking in the opposite direction of bells, on your way to the smaller market stalls.
"How much for the lotus seeds?" You asked around about different items, things that you needed for your workshop as well as other necessities. Soaps. New wires for snares. Some red clay.
You bought a few things and left behind a few others. There was not enough money for everything. You had to prioritize carefully.
A cat purred loudly as you neared a stall with fabrics of all colours arranged orderly. You scratched the cat on the head, and she went back to hissing at the stall on the left, one with shiny green apples. It was when you were inspecting a brown shawl that the vendor noticed you.
"What you lookin' for, girl?" an old-aged woman asked.
You looked up, hands pausing, "gloves for winter, leather."
The woman began rummaging around and produced a pair in a minute, "shoulda fit you, six silver pieces."
Your hands, previously reaching for said gloves, stopped in their tracks. "A bit too much, don't you think, madam?" Finally getting some movement back, you plucked the gloves, inspecting them, almost hoping to find some defect so that you can bargain for less.
"Leather comes precious these days, no bargain," She sniffed, then with a furrow in her brows, said, "No supply, so we're low on material; some rumored monster in the forest. No bigger monster than the cold and hunger, I  say." She scoffed.
You looked at the leather gloves, clutching your coin bag with one hand, deep in your satchel, "Can't do more than 3 coins, I'm afraid."
The woman's face took on a look of annoyance before she sighed, a look of understanding passing over her face. "Tell you what, here," She produced a pair of woolen gloves, "sellin' them for three silver and two copper, but they are the last ones, on a discount, take it."
You picked up the ones she tossed your way. You really would've liked the leather ones, preferable when working near water. You put your hands through, noticing how it swallowed your hand and still had space to sneak half a dozen grapes.
"Do you have a size smaller? They seem a bit big." You asked, biting your lips, hands tugging the wool between your fingers.
"Told you they are the last ones. They'll work just fine; the weaving is higher too, will stop the cold and water."
You left, walking further away from the crowd, with black wool adorning your hands.
Tumblr media
The tavern you chose for the night was brimming with patrons. Tables full of people eating and drinking. Located on the outer part of the town, it was not your first time at this place, but yet it managed to look new to you every time.
You got yourself a room on the second story. The rooms here were cheaper due to the dripping roof when it rained and poor insulation caused by paper-thin walls. But for you it was more than enough.
You would have preferred to go straight to bed, but having forgotten to eat at the market earlier, you were currently on your way up the stairs after getting some food.
Gathering your skirt with one hand, you lifted your foot up to take the first step, only to stumble back as a body slammed straight into you. Hard.
"Ah! Whoa, be careful, mister!" You exclaimed as you righted yourself with the help of the wall.
As you looked up, wondering how you didn't hear his footsteps, especially on creaky stairs, your eyes made contact with a hand—outstretched, as if trying to reach you in case you needed assistance. You looked up, eyes now fixed on the dark face wrap covering half of his face, and a hood was pulled low, casting a shadow on the other half.
He looked scary at a glance, but when you looked a little below, you caught his eyes. Dark and wide. And beautiful.
You stood there breathless, tracing the kohl lining his eyes with your own.
He pulled his hands back and jerked his body, sitting down on the floor. Reaching for something near your skirt.
You jumped back, startled.
But he was only grabbing for the apple that had rolled away on the floor, which he must've been holding when he bumped into you.
He looked up at you, apple in hand, "Hope I didn't startle you."
You looked down, shook your head once, and opened your mouth to say something, but he straightened and was up in a flash.
He stepped closer, and you noticed how he was towering over you, the black of his flowy tunic—untucked from his leather pants—brushing against your arm crossed in front of your belly.
"Don't go bumping into things," he leaned down now whispering beside your ear, "you might get hurt."
You were barely breathing and didn't even notice that he had unfurled your fist and tucked something in there.
By the time you regained your senses, he was already walking in the direction of the bar.
You looked down when you finally felt the weight of something in your hand and saw that it was none other than the fruit he was carrying. A bright green apple.
You looked after him for another second before deciding not to think much of him and walked up the stairs. Off to get some sleep and start the journey early tomorrow.
Tumblr media
Knock knock knock!
You woke up to frantic knocking on your door. Heart thundering, matching the raps of wood on the other side, you got up.
The knocking stopped.
In the silence of the darkness spread over the room, you stood still. One look out of the window and you confirmed it was early, the sun yet to rise.
For a moment you convinced yourself it was your imagination—a nightmare, maybe. It wouldn't be the first time. You decided to just go back to slee-
Knock knock knock!
The knocking resumed.
You walked up to the door and in a hesitant but loud voice questioned, "Who is it?"
The knocking stopped. You held your breath. Waiting for an answer.
Knock knock knock.
You felt through the slit in your skirt for the small blade on your thigh. Feeling nothing, you recalled having placed it on the side table. You grabbed it. Just in case.
"Who is it?" You placed a hand on the handle, another holding the blade.
A moment of silence. Just as you were about to question again, a voice called out,
"Open the door," a deep voice answered.
Body frozen, you took a big gulp of air. Where have you heard it? Warning bells were ringing in your head, telling you how this situation felt familiar.
You backed away, hand leaving the handle. I need to get out of here. In blind panic you started considering your options. You certainly couldn't fight whoever was outside. Maybe you could climb down the window?
But you stood still. You focused on the voice; it was familiar. Something in you was telling you that you should open the door.
Another knock, and you were opening the door before you could stop yourself.
The door cracked open just a sliver, but the stranger didn't make any attempt to make the gap wider or push his way in right away, unlike what you would have expected. It gave you a moment of clarity, and you came back to your senses. Raising your eyes, you were met with a half-covered face and dark eyes, lined with kohl. You knew where you had seen them.
"You are—"
"You need to come with me."
There was an urgency to his voice. His eyes were locked on yours, urging you to take a dive into the essence of midnight they held. A lock of hair fell in front of his eye; he pushed it back.
"Who are you?" The words were a whisper, but in the quiet of dawn they rang loud and clear.
One of his hands reached up, pulling the dark piece of cloth, hiding half his features, down. He gazed at you while you stole glimpses of the rest of him. Full cheeks but a sharp jaw. Soft lips but a tense tilt to them. If it were any other situation, you would have been captivated by his contrasting features. But now was not the time.
Breaking you out of your thoughts, the man in front of you glanced back at your room, then back at you, lips pursed for a moment, before he parted his lips and answered, voice clearer now without any obstruction. He answered your question.
"Someone who is going to make sure you don't bump into anything and get hurt."
You stepped back on instinct as he made his way in.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," He was crazy, and you had finally shaken yourself out of his spell. You needed to get him out of here and then get yourself out. Probably leave this town for good.
"You don't have a choice. Either you come with me or we die."
Your brows shot up in disbelief at the situation. This can't be happening. Was he messing with you? Trying to trick you? Make you think he's here to save you—from what?—and then thrust the blade deep in your ribs when you let your guard down.
You opened your mouth. To question him or cry out for help—you weren't sure. But you didn't get a chance.
Not when you heard a dull thud.
You looked behind his back, but your door was already open halfway, and no one stood there. The sound had been distant; it must have come from the room on the other end of the corridor.
While you didn't think much of it—too preoccupied with thinking how to get away—the man in front of you turned and walked back to the doorway. He only peeked outside for a single moment before sucking in a breath through his teeth and shutting the door close, rushing back towards you.
"Stay quiet!"
You jerked away, back against the wall. "What do you think—" you pulled the knife out, brandishing it in front of you, "—you are doing?"
"Shut up." He gritted through clenched teeth, eyes on the door.
"What—"
In the time it took you to release half a breath, his left hand rose, wrapping around yours, twisting your wrist, and bending your arms back. He tugged you towards him, forcing your right hand behind your back, making you loose your grip on the knife.
You stood there, chest to chest, as he peered down at you with hooded eyes, while yours squinted as you wriggled trying to get free.
"Shhh," he shushed you, putting the palm of his other hand up above your mouth and walking you a step back towards the wall. Your eyes widened as he trapped you there, with just enough force to keep you that way and not hurt you.
Heart thundering in your chest, your head pounded, matching its beats. You tried to come up with all the possible ways to get yourself out, but the warm exhales leaving his parted lips left your brain a scrambled mess.
It was stupid. To let this stranger in. You just might have invited your own death over, dressed in rugged leather, with gleaming orbs of darkness for eyes.
You shut your eyes tight as you felt him lift his hand up, releasing your mouth. You could scream, but what use would that be? Those blades you saw strapped to his back, they could slit your throat before the scream could fully form.
Expecting the press of the blade on your skin, you tried to prepare yourself. But soon were extremely surprised when a gentle finger tapped on one side of your jaw, just below your ear.
"Listen."
Blinking back at him, you squinted your eyes at his command. With no understanding of the situation, you had no other choice but to oblige. That's when you heard it.
Bang
That definitely came from the same direction as the sound before.
"What was that?" You whispered. Creases appearing on your forehead as you tried to listen more carefully.
"We should go." He stated calmly and stepped back. Putting his head against the door, he started listening for something.
"No. I don't understand anything, and unless I do, I'm not going—"
"You're not listening!" He hissed, and for the first time, his carefully managed emotions cracked, giving way to compelling urgency. He moved back to stand in front of you. "If we don't leave now and they find us, it will all be over."
They? Who is he talking about?
You eye him, your gaze full of skepticism, and it is then that you hear a muffled sound, neck snapped towards the wall as if you could see past the wood; you deduce it sounded like a scream. Your blood ran cold.
"That was a scream. We c-can't leave; we need  to—" Your breath hitched when you faced him again and came face to face with a knife.
"You're in no position to worry about that." It took you a moment to realise he was holding the knife by the blade, urging you to take it. It was yours; he must have picked it up from when you dropped it.
"But—"
"They are after you."
He you dead in the eyes and tilted his head, hair falling in his eyes, silently asking you to cooperate.
It was just like five years ago. The weight of your feet doubled, sinking you deeper in a darkness you knew too well. Your head spinning, a whirlwind of different shades of green flew past you. And you were fifteen again. Your father was asking you to leave, to run away. And you wanted to cry. "They are coming for you."
"Hey." He touched your shoulder softly, "It's okay; we'll get out of here. You can trust me."
"I don't." You replied shakily.
His eyes gleamed, "Good." You thought you heard a smile in his voice, but when you looked back at him, his face was as stoic as ever.
He motioned for you to follow as he cracked open your door just barely enough for his thumb to fit. He peeked out—assessing the corridor. Finding it bare, he pushed the door halfway open and stepped out, then motioned for you to follow.
You eyed the distance separating you and him, the doorway right in the middle. You could lock him out right now, when he was distracted. There was no proof he was telling the truth—that he was actually helping you. But deep inside you had an inexplicable inkling that doing that would not work in your favour.
You gathered the few things you had and were out the door, following close at his heels. You meant it—you didn't trust him, but at this moment he seemed like your best bet at figuring out what was going on.
And maybe, just maybe, even shine some light on a past you couldn't quite let go.
Giving your head a shake internally focused on the current situation at hand and started walking in the opposite direction from where the sounds had been coming from.
Behind you, the stranger shut the door behind you and urged you to move in front of him. He stood there for just a second longer before matching you step by step.
You walked faster, turning the corner before he did and missing the guy emerging from the other end. He locked eyes with the man walking behind you but didn't pay any mind, his attention focused somewhere else.
The other man—about to enter your room—stopped there for a second, hands on the doorknob. They were warm. The metal of the knob shouldn't be warm in this chilly tavern. Unless someone had made contact with it not too long ago.
The moment you both rounded the corner, safely out of sight, your partner wasted no time in taking huge steps forward, leaving you no option but to increase your speed as well. Not even two breaths passed before you heard thundering footsteps hot on your heels. You turn around, and your eyes meet with that of a man.
The man is dressed in peasant clothing, but it doesn't hide the sword at his waist. Hair a reddish brown, you only caught a brief glance of his enraged expression because the next thing you knew, a hand was grabbing your wrist tight and breaking off in a sprint.
The man gave chase. You change direction, disappearing from view, but you could hear him coming. The stairs were only a few steps away; you quickly tried to make your way there, eager to descend the stairs but felt yourself get tugged in the opposite direction.
"Not there," he said, moving up the stairs, you following behind.
"We will be trapped up there! We need to get out of this building if we want to loose that man."
"We are not trying to loose him," he calmly stated even as you both ran up the stairs. You reached the top floor and saw a large iron plate suspended in the middle, ropes dangling in front of it where there should have been a log hanging. You realised this place was once used as a bell tower.
"What now?" You asked him as he kept walking forward and did not stop until you reached the other side of the spacious place. The large open windows on all sides letting the cool wind in, spreading goosebumps all over your arm.
"Did you think these were just accessories?" He motioned back at the handles peeking out from behind his back, a pair of twin short swords. 
Your lips parted open and eyebrows raised up, "Are you—"
With a bang, the man slammed open the door where you both had just come from.
"Stay back."
Before you even registered what he said to you, you saw him pull one of the swords out and sidestep the other man who had already started lunging at him with his own sword out. Their blades clashed, a ring echoing in the empty space. Similar sounds followed the one before with the grunts of the two men adding to the cacophony of noises.
"Mako," the stranger let out a laugh, the sound light as the air, after deflecting his opponent's last blow, "I thought they would send their best?"
The man, Mako, raised his sword, aiming for the chest, but the black-haired stranger blocked him and raised his leg, kicking him in the gut. The man stumbled, almost doubling over before he took a swing at his feet. Hurriedly he stepped back as the Mako stood straight, slashing the air in front of his face.
This Mako was clearly trained in fighting, and you would be worried if your savior didn't seem just as good at it, if not better.
"You seem to know me," he heaved a breath, and they both circled each other, "but you don't seem to know who you're messing with." The man swung repetitively at him, but he couldn't land a single scratch on the stranger. After another swing, he shoved him back with a powerful push. "I get the girl, and you go free," he heaved.
You felt your heart drop but stayed silent. This was no time to panic.
Coming to a standstill, not a single drop of sweat visible, he replied, "I know what I am doing. The girl is going nowhere."
Mako, now furious, let out a yell and charged at him with more vigor. He met his swings with his own slashes and started walking backwards. Nearing one of the windows, he changed to offense and pushed back hard. Sending the man a couple steps back. He prepared for another attack and picked up speed, running at him.
Just where he wanted his opponent.
At that precise moment, the stranger stepped to the side in a swift movement. The man missed him, but before he could turn and deliver another attack, he was onto him, thrusting the sword at his neck.
Mako's upper body dangled out of the window, and his hands became useless as he tried to grip the railing to keep himself from falling over. He could easily have pulled himself inside had it not been for the blade keeping him there. He grunted, letting out curses directed at the owner of said blade.
"As I said, I know who I'm dealing with, but maybe you don't." He whispered lowly—doe eyes gleaming—so only the man in front of him could hear.
Breathing calmly and getting the beating of your heart back to normal, you stepped out from the corner; eyeing the door, you wondered if you could make a run before either of their companions came looking. But you were curious too.
Walking behind him, you chanced a glance at the man hanging out of the window. His gaze trained on you, and he did something unexpected. He had a wide grin that made you uncomfortable. You stepped back, away from his sight, and eyed the other man.
The fighting couldn't have lasted more than five minutes, and even though you weren't the one brandishing a sword, you felt winded.
"What are we going to do with him?" You voiced your question at the same time he shifted the sword to his other hand.
Mako screamed just as the stranger swept both his feet off the floor in a single sweep of his foot and sent a punch directly at his chest.
You watched in horror as the man fell out of the window and ran, leaning against the railing as you saw him groaning on the pile of hay. Alive. You released a shuddering breath and twisted your body to face your savior.
The first rays of sunlight began shining from the east, making their way through the scattered clouds. Their glow was soft and warm, and as he stood there looking back at you, his eyes glowed iridescently.
But that was not what caught you off guard. It was the upturn of pink lips, white peeking out between them.
"Haven't done that in a while," He groaned, stretching his arms back and sheathing his sword.
He was smiling; it was the first one you witnessed. He was smiling after he threw a man out the window. Something was wrong with him.
You couldn't will your eyes to look away. Perplexed. A little scared. Amused.
A question ringing out in your head: where do you go from here? But another quickly emerged, pushing past it—
"Who are you?"
Dark-lined eyes locked with your wide ones. His grin faded, and instead his mouth attained a genuine, friendly quirk.
"Intelligence gathered and former mercenary," he offered his hand in greeting, "Jeon Jungkook."
As you stared at his extended hand and up at his face, you came to a conclusion. One your subconscious had already realised the moment he appeared at your door. 
Wherever you go after this, it won't be back home.
Tumblr media
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ!!
I hope you liked it. Feedback is always welcome. And the taglist is open so please let me know if you want to be tagged!
Tumblr media
taglist: @kookiewithluv @runariya
86 notes · View notes
melleonis · 3 months ago
Text
list of worm characters and how good they would be at force fem
beware spoilers
UNDERSIDERS Taylor (Skitter): unless there's an estrogen spider somewhere in the world, no shot Taylor (Khepri): unfortunately, unlimited power comes at the cost of a rapidly-dwindling understanding of gender Grue: lacks both the ability and the inclination. his fragile masculinity makes him a fine target, however. Tattletale: you'd think she'd be good at it, or at the very least sufficiently-advanced egg detection, but she also believes everyone on the team is straight, so this is gonna be a blind spot for her. Bitch: shockingly good at it if the end goal is puppygirl, stone useless otherwise. Regent: i mean. he could, but what's in it for him? easily bored, no patience for process. at best he could manage getting someone into a tutu for a lark before losing interest. Imp: gaslight girlboss of course she's gonna be great at this. what's this? all the contents of your underwear drawer replaced? you didn't do that... did you? who else could have? so you must have wanted this...right? Parian: if you will not wear the dress, the dress will have to come to you. Foil: nah
EVERYONE ELSE Accord: ugh who wants a tidy feminization? Bakuda: hey maybe you'll get hit with the fem grenade! probably you'll just die, or worse. Bonesaw: oh now we're talkin. unparalleled biomech horror force fem game. the mechanical spider tapped into your spinal column decides when it's time to get you prettied up for a tea party. Canary: shania twain karaoke incident feminizes twelve, birdcage for sure. Cherish: trivially easy to set up an emotional conditioning system. wearing skirt? dopamine hit! wearing pants? kill yourself - whoops. well, she'll have a lot of time at the bottom of the ocean to figure out correct feedback intensities. Clockblocker: in theory one should be able to get up to some mischief while someone is frozen in time, but i'm not sure dennis has the ability to freeze someone without also freezing their clothes, which means this has limited utility. could play a support role for someone else. Contessa: effortlessly trips you into a chain reaction that completely reshapes your life as part of a twelve-thousand step plan to improve humanity's long-term odds of survival by a fraction of a percent. thank you for your service. Echidna: all your evil monster clones are girls for some reason. whether this works depends entirely on how you respond to awkward post-incident questions your friends have about it. Eidolon: yeah i mean he could. but it doesn't make him feel globally, historically important so he's not gonna. Gallant: is "feminine" an emotion he can inflict? girl feelings beam attack? shame we'll never know, RIP. Gregor the Snail: nothing in canon says he can't secrete a mildly acidic ooze that turns you into a slime girl. Jack Slash: broadcast shard should in theory mean he can easily manipulate other capes into getting feminized, but that's less time spent on self-aggrandizing mass murder, so. Marquis: bone structure matters less than you'd think in the grand scheme of things, but yes he can reshape your jawline and cheek bones, give you those child-bearing hips. pros: he doesn't kill women, so you're that much safer. cons: it is going to hurt like a motherfucker. Number Man: oh no your company has fallen on hard times and you've been laid off! and how peculiar that the only business hiring anywhere near you is the maid cafe. it says they're very strict about their dress code but that's probably fine. and food's gotten so expensive but wait these odd imported protein shakes are absurdly cheap... Panacea: you know what the joke is already, come on. Scion: has Path to Victory and would never in a billion years think of using it for anything fun.
and finally,
the Simurgh: best in show. sure, it'll take four years for the triggers and conditioning to work their way through your subconscious but when they do...
BONUS Simurgh/Dragon double-team: Defiant probably never spent enough time close to the Simurgh to get affected, plus he had those high-tech earplugs he designed himself, so surely he's fine. nevertheless, his focus wanders during a critical moment while editing Dragon's source code, and now she's bossier, maybe even a little meaner, and the prosthetic parts she's making for colin's cyborg body are... different. curvier, softer. and every time he tries to find the problem in her code he gets distracted, and she gets more and more imperious. can he find a way out of the Simurgh's conditioning and his AI lover's domination? will he have to seek help from Saint - or worse, Teacher? surely they wouldn't take advantage of him in his vulnerable cyberdoll state?
30 notes · View notes
the-great-papyru · 5 months ago
Text
He wasn’t too far into the resets when he got the idea. Late enough that the thought of death didn’t make him blink. Early enough that any real “experimentation” with it was only to involve himself.
And boy, did Flowey—Asriel have a lot of questions. What was the quickest method? (Hotland’s lava) Could he do it at the same time as a SAVE? (No) How long would people miss him if he were to “suddenly disappear?” (He’d gotten bored after a week)
Recently, though, what interested him more was the concept of life. Specifically, how long he could make it last in the harshest of conditions.
That was what led him to Snowdin.
Asriel didn’t have a real reason to spend any time there—the only people there were some snowdrakes, bunny monsters, that armless kid, the deer girls, and those two skeletons. All of them incredibly easy to give a happy ending. Their “problems” tended to resolve themselves as he fixed everyone else’s.
Even so, wouldn’t do any harm to figure out how long he could survive Snowdin’s cold. He was bored. This was a thing to do.
Unfortunately, this was still pretty boring. At least Asriel didn’t feel cold—no skin!—but that just meant he was waiting out in the middle of the forest to die, with minimal indication of how much longer he had to wait.
He’d picked out a spot he knew no one would visit. He had everyone’s routes mapped out. Snowy, Chilldrakes, Ice Caps, that one really annoying guy he could never remember the name of (Jeremy?) would all walk right past him. Sentries tended to stick to their posts. The dogs would patrol where they always did, far from this spot. The perpetually positive skeleton (Garamond? Times New Roman?) had a more erratic patrol, but Asriel had seen where he had patrolled today last reset, and was far from there. The annoying one (Serif? Sans.) was far from a problem. It wasn’t easy to find someone when you were napping.
Speaking of napping, Flowey bit back a yawn. He was beginning to feel quite tired. So that was how freezing to death felt. Not a bad way to go out. How long had it been? 13 hours? He closed his eyes, ready to meet the cold blackness of the reload screen when he awoke.
Before Flowey even opened his eyes, he knew something had gone wrong. This was not the reload screen.
For one, it was much too bright. Warm lighting lit up wherever he was in lieu of the darkness he was anticipating. For a brief moment, Asriel thought he was back in Toriel’s house, sitting by the fireplace—but no, the light wasn’t flickering, it was constant. And rather than putting him to sleep, it seemed insistent on waking him up. Groggily, he obliged.
He was in a warm room, a tv in front of him playing what was probably a movie. He was wrapped in some sort of fabric and steam was rising next to him from a mug of hot cocoa placed on a wooden table to his left. The air smelled heavily of cinnamon and chocolate. Beneath the dramatic music coming from the television, Asriel could hear soft humming coming from a kitchen to his right. That tall skeleton (Candara? Bodoni?) exited and grinned when he spotted Asriel.
“OH! GOOD, YOU’RE AWAKE!”
Now that he’d seen the owner, Asriel vaguely recognized this place. He’d been there once, early on, when he decided to look in every room in the Underground. The hyper skeleton (Merriweather? Abril?) had come in when he was in the middle of exploring. Flowey had been discovered immediately, of course, and he’d quickly reloaded before the skeleton could even say anything.
“YOU SEEMED VERY COLD OUT THERE. SO I DECIDED TO TAKE YOU HERE. I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND.”
Flowey—Asriel narrowed his eyes. There was no logical explanation as to why the skeleton had come past him. It was possible that he’d messed something up, changed a variable. He’d have to try again, in a different location where he wouldn’t be found.
As for now, though… this was new. Maybe he could talk to this skeleton. For whatever good it would do him.
“I don’t mind at all! Thank you so much…” Asriel said. Why was he out there, he needed a reason to be out there,
“I was out exploring, but I must have taken a wrong turn and gotten lost… I really can’t express my gratitude at being saved…” Was that laying it on too thick? No, the skeleton was puffing with every word.
“IT WAS NO TROUBLE!! SURELY ANY OTHER PASSERBY WOULD DO THE SAME! HOWEVER, YOU ARE QUITE FORTUNATE THAT I WAS THE PASSERBY PASSING BY. SNOWDIN FOREST CAN BE QUITE DANGEROUS, AND IT’S REALLY MUCH BETTER TO PASS BY THAN PASS THROUGH IT. A MUCH GREATER PLACE FOR PASSERBY TO PASS BY IS MY HOUSE!! WHICH YOU ARE CURRENTLY PASSING THROUGH! NYEH HEH HEH!!!”
Asriel blinked. Those were definitely words that meant something.
“AND THOUGH I AM CERTAIN YOUR HEART PINES FOR ADVENTURE, THERE ARE MANY BETTER PLACES TO FIND IT THAN AMONG THE PINES. YOUR WILD SOUL CAN FIND BETTER PLACES THAN THE WILDS.”
That. Also meant something. “Was… that a pun?” Asriel got out, bewildered.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” the skeleton replied straightfaced.
“…nevermind.” Asriel used one of his roots to grab the mug of cocoa. As he brought it to his mouth carefully, it slipped out of his grasp and landed on the ground. The mug shattered, spilling hot liquid all over the ground. Asriel bit back a cuss.
Darn it, darn it, darn it! The skeleton would be so— It was fine.
There was a shard of mug right in front of Flowey. He could pick it up and reload right now. He got ready to grab it. This time he wouldn’t be clumsy.
“OH NO! YOUR DRINK!!” The skeleton rushed in with a broom and dustpan before Asriel could make a move. “DON’T WORRY! WE CAN MAKE A NEW ONE!!”
What? “You’re not angry?”
“OF COURSE NOT! WHY WOULD I BE ANGRY?”
“I broke your mug.”
“NONSENSE! YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING. GRAVITY BROKE IT!!”
“That’s stupid! I—”
“I’M NOT ANGRY.”
Asriel looked at the skeleton’s face. There wasn’t a hint of anger or even disappointment in it.
“I CAN GET A NEW CUP, AFTER ALL!! I CAN’T GET A NEW TEMPORARY HOUSEGUEST.”
Huh. Maybe he’d stick with this timeline after all.
By the end of the day, Flowey had learned the skeleton’s name, (Papyrus) learned the skeleton’s favorite font, (Papyrus) and found his new favorite person (Papyrus).
Unfortunately, he still had an experiment to perform. He finally reloaded, chose a different location, and tried again.
When he woke up to warm lighting and the sound of humming, he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t with a smile.
33 notes · View notes
shunin-gumis · 6 months ago
Text
Designs of Happiness - Track A03
L4mps Main Story Translation
Tumblr media
Title: A drink at Nightfall
Characters: Yodaka, Daniel
Summary: Yodaka skillfully mixes a new drink for the protagonist. With one line from Daniel, they understand his true intention of bringing them to this bar...
JP Proofreading: aca @463ce6 on twt EN Proofreading: jes @arcanecrayonn on twt
Tumblr media
Location: “Ten Nights of Dreams” BAR
Tumblr media
Momiji: Wow… Just look at that elegant mixing skill… His handsomeness is only accentuated by the serious expression he wears while working… I can’t seem to take my eyes off of him…
Yodaka: And an orange slice to top it off– Thank you for waiting.
Momiji: Thank you!
Momiji: What a beautiful gradation from blue to orange… The lighting of the bar reflecting off the surface of the drink makes it look like it’s rippling with gold… It’s like I’m holding the ocean in my palm.
Yodaka: I made this mocktail with you in mind.
Momiji: Huh?
Yodaka: Like a ripe fruit that’s been beloved by the sun, your eyes shine, full of life. The serenity you exude with your entire being gently envelops those around you.
Tumblr media
Yodaka: I’ve decided to name this mocktail as “The Ocean’s Golden Coins”. I hope this drink will enrich your spirit. Here you go.
Momiji: …!!
Momiji: I can feel my face heating up…
Momiji: Thank you for the drink… Oh! It’s delicious!
Tumblr media
Daniel: Right? Yodaka’s skill is the real deal. Well, it’s good enough that it’s worth overlooking the fact he’s a natural-born seducer. 
Daniel: Don’tcha think it’d be just fantastic if we could get to drink this every day over at HAMA House?
Momiji: …..
Momiji: I was wondering why he brought me to this bar but…
Momiji: I see, so that’s what you were after.
Daniel: Yep, glad you caught on.
Yodaka: What’s the matter?
Daniel: Go on, explain it to him. For the sake of our peaceful home-bar life.
Momiji: Your real motive is plain as day… Anyways, Yodaka-san, please take a look at this.
Yodaka: This is…
Tumblr media
Yodaka: Hm, how unfortunate that this looks too corporate to be a love letter.
Momiji: A l-love letter…?
Yodaka: My apologies, a little lighthearted flirting goes a long way in my line of work, you see. Putting the jokes aside, this seems to be some sort of work proposal.
Momiji: Yes, that’s right. Allow me to explain.
~~~
Yodaka: … I see. From my understanding, HAMA Tours is offering “Package Tours” to ensure the survival of HAMA as a designated tourism region.
Yodaka: You’ve been recruiting to fill the positions of the 18 ward mayors, and have managed to find 14 so far.
Momiji: Yes, that’s right.
Yodaka: As for the final Night Team, you want to find members who can provide tourists with a more relaxed experience, with the conditions being that “They must own a store” and that “They must have roots in the local districts”.
Momiji: Yes, those are the terms that our Company President had come up with.
Yodaka: After you were unable to find Nagi at Flower Laundry, a person you already had friendly relations with, the two of you came here at Danny’s suggestion and decided I was the next best choice. I think I’ve grasped the situation.
Momiji: I’m sorry if this seems like it came out of the blue. On top of that, we might have given the impression that we chose you because we failed to obtain our first choice… But please know this– 
Momiji: I was convinced the moment I tried your cocktail earlier.
Momiji: This bar, “Ten Nights of Dreams”, is the only place that could provide weary travelers with the best drinks that would heal both their body and soul.
Tumblr media
Yodaka: …..
Momiji: Please take your time to look over the documents carefully and decide-
Daniel: Seriously, why do you always gotta be so uptight? Just listening to you droning on is making me all tense.
Daniel: Yo, Yodaka. This is the 17th ward, right. You wanna be this ward’s Mayor?
Tumblr media
Yodaka: I wouldn’t mind doing it.
Momiji: Wha– 
Tumblr media
Yunyun: WHAAAAAAAT!?
Momiji: Y-Yunyun-san!?
Momiji: Somehow he’s more shocked than I am over how casually Yodaka gave the okay…
Yunyun: Just, hold on a sec! This is way too sudden… Nope! This isn’t happening!
Yodaka: What’s wrong? Did you want to be a Ward Mayor as well?
Tumblr media
Yunyun: No- That’s not what I was…
Daniel: Weird. I thought you’d be the first one to push him out the door, wanting to spread your wings and all.
Momiji: So that’s how he sees Yunyun-san… 
Yunyun: …… A lot of customers come in here hoping they get to talk with the Boss.
Yunyun: If he becomes a Ward Mayor, won’t he be too busy to work here anymore?
Momiji: Ah, you don’t have to worry on that front. We’re planning to have the Package Tour happen right within the stores, so your business would remain the priority.
Momiji: I will take responsibility and take care of the arrangements so that your work won’t be affected. Please rest assured on that end.
Yodaka: Did that manage to convince you?
Yunyun: …..
Yodaka: Danny and Nagi are both good friends of mine. I’m more than happy to take on this request.
Yodaka: …Ah, though we aren’t sure if Nagi will agree to it yet.
Momiji: Now that you mention it, you seem familiar with Nagi-kun. Are the two of you already acquainted? 
Yodaka: Oh, I should have said this sooner– Those flowers over there were delivered by Nagi. He drops by once a week to change out the arrangement.
Momiji: I see! So that’s how it was…
Momiji: ……
Momiji: Erm, I lost the timing to react because it took me by surprise but, Yodaka-san agreed to be the 17th Ward Mayor just now, right…? Does that mean… 
Momiji: We successfully recruited him!?
Daniel: Looks like it.
Yodaka: I’m Natsume Yodaka. Let’s get along well.
Momiji: Y-yes! Same here! Woohoo!
Daniel: You’re way too pumped up, your face is bright red right now. Welp, at least this means our job’s done for the day.
Momiji: I mean, I didn’t know we’d succeed so soon! I’m sorry for being so noisy!
Momiji: But I couldn’t help it, I really am happy… Thank you so much for agreeing to it!
Tumblr media
Yunyun: …..
Yodaka: …..
Yodaka: Don’t worry, I won’t cause any trouble for you.
Tumblr media
Yunyun: —Aw what? I wasn’t thinkin’ that at all! 
Yunyun: Right, we gotta settle this with a bang!  The treat’s on Hiroshi!
Daniel: The heck?
Yunyun: We got in some rare Japanese whisky recently…  You’re a whisky guy, right? Why don’t you book a bottle?
Daniel: Hoo~ A 25-year-old whisky from Koku Province* huh! How much for it?
Yunyun: Aw don’t be so stingy now~ Just agree to buy the bottle ok? Pretty please~
Daniel: How am I supposed to when I don’t even know how much it is, huh?
Momiji: Putting aside Daniel-san getting baited, I’m glad we could cross one thing off our checklist. I think this is a good sign, hopefully the next one will be just as easy…
Yodaka: Those two seem to be having their own fun, so let’s talk, just the two of us.
Momiji: Sure, let’s!
Yodaka: Your straightforward honesty is adorable. Well then, what should we talk about?
Momiji: Um, well… Would you happen to know the places where Nagi-kun might frequent?
Momiji: I suppose it’d be a stretch if the two of you are only business friends… 
Yodaka: How exciting, you’re just like a detective. And detectives always have a favorite bar to get their info from, don’t they?
Yodaka: Then I suppose I should provide you with some information, just like a classic bar owner.
Momiji: Does that mean you know where he is…?
Tumblr media
Yodaka: Unfortunately, trying to find him would be much more difficult than trying to find a bird that’s lost its way. After all, we’re talking about the man who somehow found himself on the coasts of the Pacific Ocean while trying to get to the convenience store.
Momiji: The Pacific Ocean!?
Yodaka: It seems there is some mischievous God that loves to play pranks on him. I suppose that’s just the kind of star he was born under.
Momiji: Now that I think about it, the pet robot at his shop called him a magnet for trouble… And the last time I met him, he was pinned underneath his own bike… 
Yodaka: But speaking of finding missing people, there’s a shop that specializes in taking requests such as these. What’s more, it’s situated in the 15th ward that has no Ward Mayor. Does this information interest you?
Momiji: Woah, please tell me everything you know about that!
Yodaka: My pleasure, Detective.
Tumblr media
Yodaka: I heard this story from one of my regulars… Let’s call him Kinniku Morio-san*.
Yodaka: One midsummer night, Kinniku-san was on his way back home from a business trip, carrying a large briefcase in one hand.
Yodaka: As he walked down a quiet path, he came across a peculiar-looking manor. He couldn’t help but draw close, scouring his memories as he tried to remember if such a building had existed here in the first place– And that was when he sensed a presence, shrouded within the shadow cast by the manor.
Yodaka: He approached, quietly, carefully… And then he finally laid his eyes on “it”.
Yodaka: When it noticed the presence of an intruder, it turned around, capturing Kinniku-san’s form within the gaze of its “only eye”. And just as suddenly, it turned its back on him and fled into the dead of the night.
Yodaka: That place is known as–
Tumblr media
Yodaka: Angel’s Eye.
Yodaka: Did you know? Amongst the angels, there is one that has only a single eye.
Yodaka: Perhaps, what he saw was an angel.
~~~~~
Location: Fortune Teller’s Parlor “Angel’s Eye”
Tumblr media
Momiji: -And that’s why we’re here, at the “Angel’s Eye”. I didn’t know this before but, apparently this fortune-teller is pretty famous amongst the spiritual community. Kinniku-san is also one of their regulars now… 
Tumblr media
Daniel: That so… It’s pretty big for a fortune-telling place, I’ll give them that. Still shady as hell though.
Momiji: Really? I don’t think it looks suspicious… 
Momiji: Let’s see…The entrance is over there.
Momiji: We ended up losing daylight because we got lost on the way here. It’s late now, but I wonder if the parlor is still open… 
Men in White Robes: Over here! We’ve found them!
Men in White Robes: Surround them! Don’t let them get away!
Tumblr media
Daniel: —…..
Momiji: What’s going on…!?
Notes:
The only hint I got for “Koku Province” is that it’s a region from a Japanese light novel “Saiunkoku Monogatari” set in fictional ancient China.
Kinniku Morio seems to be a play on the name Kintaro as the kanji used mean “gold” and “meat” but put together they pronounce “kinniku” which means “muscles”, terms that are used to describe Kintaro. I thought it was interesting to note as Yodaka seems fond of history and historical figures like he mentioned in his Tanabata voiceline.
<- Previous | Next ->
Masterlist
33 notes · View notes
treacheryinblue · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Chapter 5/?
× Elysium (noun) : a place or condition of ideal happiness. type of: fictitious place, imaginary place, mythical place.
Word Count: 8.1k
Masterlist
A Noah Sebastian x OC Series
× Summary: Noah and his new found (sort of) friend, Persephone, battle the trivial ins and outs of being teenagers in a world that doesn't accept you. They survive together all the way into adulthood - with bouts of loneliness included - where the world is still a fickle bitch.
× Warnings!: smut (chapter 4 and beyond), language, violence, slowburn, friends to lovers to enemies back to friends, rinse and repeat (not even in that order), sexual themes, etc. Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings.
× Author Notes: ( 1 ) I'm sorry that this took so long! I had majority written for awhile but it just didn't feel right. I'm not even sure if it finally does but I'm going with it!
× Chapter Warnings!: smut (oral - m receiving), language, talks of mental illness, drinking.
Happy reading! xoxo
SPRING 2016
PERSEPHONE
“What are you doing?”
Noah yawned out his words as he stirred in bed, an inked hand lifting to scratch at his chest. She didn't even look up from the little comic-like scene she had been doodling - this being what she had chosen to throw herself into hours ago when she couldn't sleep and needed a distraction. 
Sleep. What a foreign thing that was to her nowadays. It infuriated her beyond belief, much more than anyone around her could've guessed. Seph had taken to not talking much about the issues she was having because she knew Noah would only fixate on them and try to help. And while she appreciated his attempts, she couldn't stop herself from wondering if they were doing more harm than good. 
Maybe their lack of full on intimacy didn't sound like a huge deal, but to her, it was making her lose her mind. Although, not because she was aching for it (even if she was); this was more so due to all the thoughts it was causing her to have. The worries. The overthinking. It was becoming almost unbearable up in her brain. 
“Hmm?” Noah hummed curiously when she didn't yet give a response. 
“Just some drawing.” 
Seph allowed her eyes to flicker up to him, a slight smile being forced across her lips. She was sure he wouldn't believe it, but she didn't have it in her to dwell on that right then. 
“Did you have breakfast?”
Jesus fucking Christ. Why couldn't he ever stop? 
It's not his fault. Don't take it out on him. 
“Yeah, I made some peanut butter toast awhile ago.”
A small lie, although not completely. She had made said toast, but unfortunately, she only took a single bite of it before the texture assaulted her senses and she had to swallow it down with the help of a leftover Sprite in the fridge. No idea who it belonged to, but it was flat as hell. 
Noah nodded, again yawning as he shifted onto his side to face her. A long arm snaked around her waist and gave a firm tug, forcing her to set her sketchbook aside so she could be pulled into his warmth without issue. Now that his chest was pressed into her back, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck and released a sigh of content. 
If only she could feel as carefree as he did right then. 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah, I'm good,” she softly spoke, fingertips trailing along the top of his hand that closed around her. 
“Just tired because I didn't sleep well.” Seph elaborated a bit, just so Noah wouldn't further worry about her. If she blamed it all on being tired, then there would be no issue, right? 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her skin. 
“We gotta shoot that video today, so I'll be gone for a bit. Did you want to come?”
Aka 'do you need a babysitter?’
Seph forced those thoughts to pause. She couldn't assume this is what Noah meant all because he was asking if she wanted to tag along. Who's to say he didn't actually want her there? 
Adjusting within his arms, she angled herself back a bit so she could see his face. She then smiled and shook her head, just before placing a light kiss to his awaiting mouth. Morning Noah was always the most adorable to her. His heavy lidded eyes and pouty lips were something she could stare at all day if given the option. 
“I have therapy, so I can't. You need some time with the guys without me cramping your style, anyway.” 
Noah rolled his eyes and tightened the hold he had on her body, his face then burying back into her neck where he began to lightly kiss a couple of times. 
“You give us our style. You know that.” 
Slender fingers slithered along her side, dropping over the curve of her hip before managing to slip beneath the fabric of the t-shirt she wore. Noah rubbed gentle circles into her skin, this soft sensation causing her eyes to flutter closed and her lips to part to allow a small exhale through. 
No, she couldn't let herself fall victim to this again because she knew exactly how it would end. Since Noah struggled to keep his hands off of her, he would either continue to caress her body until she made the move to progress further, which he would reject in his own way. Or he would sink his fingers between her thighs, quickly get her off, then carry on as if he wasn't hard and pressed into her lower back. 
While the latter option sounded far better, both actually sucked. 
“Is everyone coming back here tonight?” She figured changing the subject and focusing on something else would help distract not only her mind, but also those damned fingers of his. 
Noah made a small sound that told her yes, nodding slightly. 
“It'll be another not so chill night.”
There was a disdain in his voice that she hadn't been expecting. Did he not like when everyone piled into his shared place for a night of drinking and nonsense? 
Reaching for his hand to stop him from taking things further, she laced their fingers together and folded their now intertwined digits into her chest. 
“At least you'll have me there,” she shrugged. 
× × ×
“Persephone…if we adjust your medications again, this will be the third time within a year. In my professional opinion, I don't think you're really giving them a chance.”
Professional. Right. What a jackass. 
This was the statement that finally broke her that day. Her shoulders dropped and her head bowed, heavy sobs immediately beginning to escape her. A hand lifted to cover her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds, though she knew the older man wasn't so blind that he hadn't witnessed her oncoming break. 
“You don't get it. No one gets it.” She choked out while tugging down the sleeve of her (Noah’s) hoodie so she could wipe beneath her nose. 
“I hate the way all of the meds have made me. I'm not myself. I don't feel normal. I mean…who I was before wasn't so great, considering, but at least then I felt something that wasn't just…emptiness and anger and this sadness that's been eating away at me.”
Trembling hands cradled her face after dropping it into her palms, the tears not yet ceasing. It felt like a dam had broken within her - or maybe it was just a patch. Something told her this wasn't the breakdown she had brewing inside.
“I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't even enjoy my time with the guy I fucking lo-” she paused before finishing the sentence, cutting herself off with a shake of her head. 
Nope. She wasn't going to admit that for the first time to her goddamn therapist. 
Seph took in a deep breath as she wiped the tears from beneath her eyes. She was hoping she could get herself together now, though mostly because she didn't want to return to the public with red and puffy eyes. 
“Maybe I'm just better without the meds. Is that an option? Things in my life are different now, right? So maybe the changes will help me stay level headed. I just need to feel like myself again.” 
“No.” The man was quick to respond. “Stopping medications abruptly is never suggested and you know this. It could make your negative feelings worse, as well as become more physical ailments, too.”
He deeply sighed as he looked at her across the room. It was clear to her that he was at a loss for words, though she wasn't surprised. It's the same expression she received time and time again from every therapist who was unlucky enough to have her land in their lap. Seph knew she wasn't that much of a handful, especially not in comparison to other people in the world. She was just…frustrating. Possibly even incapable of receiving help because she wasn't willing to open up to it. Or whatever the fuck her last therapist had told her parents. 
It was all bullshit either way. 
× × ×
Against her therapist’s better judgment, and possibly even her own, Seph had decided on her way back to Noah's after her appointment that she was going to put her medications to rest. She wasn't going to be so irresponsible as to quit them cold turkey, but tapering herself off was definitely in the works. Any of the effects she may experience couldn't be nearly as bad as how she was currently feeling on a day to day basis. This is what she told herself to justify the decision. 
Merely having put this plan into action was already lifting her spirits. She felt happier, lighter in her steps. Maybe even excited for the night that lied ahead? While parties used to be her cup of tea, it should come as no surprise that she wasn't as lively at them as she once had been. 
Not this time. She thought to herself while getting ready that evening. She was going to be the old Seph that night even if it killed her. 
High waisted shorts that were cut entirely too short in the back? Check. Random t-shirt of Noah’s that she had tied and tucked up at her waist? Check. Secret vodka shots that were taken before the guys arrived back? Double check. 
“You seem to be in a good mood.” Noah mused as he approached her a little later that night. “Therapy go well?”
Seph peered up at him, a grin manifesting over her lips. She assumed he didn't think anything of the cup in her hand that was a mixture of fruit punch and vodka, since the red juice was typically being had by her during any of their parties. Why would he suspect the second ingredient now? 
“It was fine, but we can talk about it tomorrow.” A wave of her hand brushed the topic away. She didn't want to dwell on something like that right then when she was supposed to be having fun, especially when she knew telling Noah about her session and her decision afterwards would put a stop to all the said fun. 
With her cup clutched securely in her hand, she took a step closer to Noah so her arms could link around his waist. Her body pressed firm into his now that her head angled up and her chin could prop against his chest, just so she could get a clear view of his face. 
“What are you doing?” Noah chuckled, a hand of his own rubbing along her back so she knew her sudden affection was welcomed despite the people. 
“Nothin’, I just missed you.” 
Wasn't it funny how she had once been worried about what people would think of her for cozying up with someone like Noah? And now, not only could she not care less about what others thought, she was actually pretty happy to be with him. 
When happiness could be felt. 
Not to mention the night and day difference Noah was to Mason. Her ex would always act embarrassed when she was a little more affectionate and craving his attention, even more so when others were around. But Noah? He leaned into it and gave it right back, sometimes tenfold. 
“How was the video shoot?” 
“Uh…” Noah shrugged, his other hand bringing his beer up for a swallow as the one still caressed along her back. “It went okay. Some creative differences but that's to be expected.” 
At this point in their relationship, Seph believed she knew Noah pretty well. She could tell when he was lying, or at least withholding things from her, and this was one of those times. Not even her vodka goggles could make her blind to it. 
“That doesn't sound too good…” The words were mumbled against his mouth after she had pushed up onto her tip toes to press her lips to his. While the initial kiss only lasted a second or so, Seph couldn't stop herself from leaning in for another, this one lingering for longer. 
How could it not when he always tasted so damn good? Still, she made a mental note to ask him more about the video shoot later. 
“Hey! We're gearing up for beer pong!” 
Folio’s voice cut through the little bubble they had placed themselves in which unfortunately forced Noah to pull back from her a bit. He looked off to the side where his bandmate was shuffling away, giving him a nod and a wave of his hand as a signal that he understood. 
Seph huffed, the pout obvious on her lips from the lack of connection. She so badly wanted to be as close as humanly possible to him, more so than usual. It was hard to tell if Noah shared the same desire, though. Things had been so off with him lately, as well as herself, that it was impossible to know for sure. Obviously she had yet to take Nick’s advice and actually talk to Noah about it. 
“I'm gonna run to the bathroom and then we're getting in on that game.” Noah tilted his head back to finish off what remained of his beer. 
“You're on my team, by the way, since you're oddly good at it…” 
Eying her suspiciously, Noah began to take slow steps backwards until her hand slipped from his. Seph could only laugh and roll her eyes at him, knowing damn well she had explained to him before that she had been playing beer pong almost religiously since she was thirteen. So, of course she was good at it. 
Once he rounded the corner down the hallway, she took in a deep breath, her smile falling. Her frustrations were really beginning to grow and that worried her. How much longer until she outright exploded? 
Goddammit. She couldn't keep letting her inner most thoughts drift to these things. This was supposed to be her fun night. Not her 'dwell on whether or not Noah is over me’ night. 
With pursed lips she glanced in the direction of the hallway he had sauntered down mere seconds ago. No…she shouldn't…right? 
Seph refused to think about it for too long. After all, she had vowed to act like her old self. The version of her that was all for taking chances and doing things that were probably pretty dumb. This little idea definitely fit the criteria. 
After finishing off the remnants of her drink, she found herself following the same path Noah had taken. It was mostly empty in this area of the house now because the other party-goers were either outside or joining in on the commotion in the kitchen and dining room. As she approached the bathroom, she heard the toilet flush and then the sink turn on, which didn't give her much time to back out if she chose to. 
Oh, hell. Why was she so nervous anyway? Noah was basically her boyfriend (relationship defining conversation still pending) and this is the sort of thing they did. What's the worst that could happen?  
Well…he could completely reject her…that was always likely…
Thankfully, the bathroom door opened before she could think any harder on that pesky thought. Noah appeared slightly shocked to see her standing there, though she barely had time to register his expression shift before she was closing the space between them and pushing him back into the bathroom with the force of her body colliding with his. 
“Seph-”
She cut him off after nudging the door closed with her elbow, a hand grabbing the back of his head and pulling his lips down to hers. His own hands were quick to find her waist, firmly clutching at her bare skin and pulling her in closer against him. 
Good. This was the sort of reaction she was looking for. 
Seph tightly grasped his hair between her fingers as she moaned into the kiss, letting him know exactly what she was angling towards. Noah seemed to be accepting of it by the way he guided her back into the wall and then used a singular hand to pin her wrists up above her head. She could already feel the bulge beginning to form in his jeans - and this made her so ecstatic that she barely knew how to contain herself. 
Fuck, she just knew she was about to cum so hard. 
“I don't know what's gotten into you…” he breathed across her skin while biting a trail down her jaw and neck, his free hand dragging along her waist. “But it's fucking hot.” 
Noah pressed himself between her thighs and tightened the grip he had on her wrists, though only for a brief moment before releasing them. Oh, so he found it hot when she took the lead? Noted. 
“Only thing I need getting into me right now is your dick.” 
Seph didn't care how ridiculous that sounded because not only was her brain foggy with only her desire for Noah, but she was also pretty buzzed from the shots and her mixed drink. Not drinking for a year was really getting the best of her. 
The moment her hands were free, they dropped to begin working on the irritating button and zipper of his jeans. Her lips worked skillfully over his as they engaged in another heated kiss; tongues massaged together, moans mixing, both of their primal needs for the other heightening in sync. Noah’s hands were in her hair and then feeling along her body, grabbing and touching at every bit of her that he could. She didn't even care when he drunkenly pulled too hard on her necklace by accident, almost ripping it off in the process. Thankfully the chain remained secure. 
“I knew you'd be hard for me already…” she taunted after slipping her fingers beneath the band of his boxers and feeling for herself just how hard he actually was. The answer: hard enough for his cock to pulse at the first graze of her fingers. 
A few steps forward and she had backed him up to the counter, all while she simultaneously pushed his boxers down and tugged his cock free. Seph looked up at him with a devilish smirk as her thumb grazed along the tip, this slight motion causing his hips to jerk forward and his hands to clutch the counter tight enough that his knuckles turned white. 
“Fuck,” Noah groaned. The sound of his breathing was already picking up despite her having just secured her fingers around his thick cock, slowly pumping along every inch. 
It was the expressions he made that she really liked watching - which now helped her realize why Noah also liked looking up at her as he was eating her out. Being able to see the other person coming undone more and more with every passing second was euphoric all on its own. His eyes closed and his jaw clenched, lips briefly folding in before another moan erupted from his chest. Of course just her simply jerking him off was going to be a show for her - it had been forever since he let her even touch him below the waist last. 
Seph picked up her pace, the grip she had tightening every time her hand would twist up towards the top. She noticed how he was trying his best to stop himself from thrusting forward into her palm, and while she wanted to call him out for it, she decided against it because she knew he wouldn't be able to hold back once she was on her knees. 
Speaking of - that's exactly where she had ended up. 
Heavy lidded eyes stared down at her now, his fingers helping with moving her hair out of her face and gathering it back in a makeshift ponytail. Seph smiled up at him just as she gripped the base of his cock and secured her plump lips around the tip, her tongue swirling around and gathering the bead of moisture that had already appeared. 
Noah did a sharp inhale, and she could feel the way his body tensed while she had him in such a vulnerable position. Since she didn't get to blow him often, she definitely liked to make the most of it. After taking in a deep breath of her own through her nose, her tongue laid against the underside of his cock, her head beginning its tortuously slow bob to take him in inch by inch. 
“Goddamn, Seph,” Noah cursed above her, “your mouth…”
There was no way he was able to finish the statement once she was swallowing his cock down at a faster pace, bringing him as far back to her throat as she could. Her new motions quite the contrast to how she had just been teasing him only seconds ago. Noah’s grip of her hair tightened so he could help guide her, a bit of force being applied in an attempt to push her deeper. 
“Lift your shirt up,” he then demanded, which she quickly obeyed by hauling the t-shirt up to rest on the top of her chest. 
Noah’s eyes focused on her chest, watching as she used one hand to massage her breasts from over her bra, the other still holding firm to his cock. She could see his eyes bouncing back and forth between her chest and the sight of most of his cock disappearing past her lips, since she was still trying her best to keep her sights set on him. 
A low groan escaped him, his hips thrusting forward to further feel more of her mouth. “You're so fucking hot.”
Seph then took it upon herself to tug down the cups of the bralette she wore, baring her chest to him. If his pupils weren't blown before then they definitely were now as he watched her play with herself, both for his entertainment and also to help relieve some of the tension she was feeling. 
Unfortunately, her dream of cumming hard was not in the works of coming true. 
“Dude, what the fuck are you-”
“Fuck! Folio! Get out!” 
Suddenly she was forced to the side and her mouth emptied as he pulled back, Noah’s body turning to shield not only himself, but also her from the intruder. 
“Shitshitshit! Dude! I'm sorry!” 
Seph was quickly trying to pull her shirt down after she had dropped to her bottom on the bathroom floor, while also attempting to see around Noah so that Folio could catch a glimpse of her glare. 
“Shut the fucking door! No! Get out and then shut the door!”
She had been so goddamn close to getting what she wanted. There was no way Noah would've let them exit the bathroom without first making her cum around his cock, but now either of them getting off was a thing of the past. 
“You live here! You have a bedroom!” Folio yelled from the other side of the door, prompting both her and Noah to simultaneously yell for him to ‘fuck off’ - a few other profanities and choice words also added into the mix. 
Seph groaned in annoyance as she continued to work at adjusting her bra and then tying the shirt up at her waist again. When she looked up, Noah had already stuffed himself back into his jeans - albeit a little uncomfortably - and was now extending a hand out to her. 
“I'm pissed,” she exclaimed after taking his hand and pulling herself to her feet with his assistance. Noah heavily sighed, his eyes still focused on her. He began to smooth his hands over her hair, gently tucking strands back behind her ear while nodding in agreement. 
“I'm more pissed that Folio might've seen your tits.” 
A pout and a whine took over her, though Noah only chuckled and pulled her into his chest where she could bury her face for a moment. 
“Don't worry. I'll kick his ass if he says anything about your tits. I already know they're amazing, no one else needs to.” 
“Not funny!” She huffed, the back of her hand lightly smacking against his shoulder. 
“I would see if you wanted to continue, but uh…” he looked down between them, his brows pulling together as if he was concentrating. After a few seconds, Noah released an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “I think the moment is gone…seeing Folio’s dumbass face makes it impossible to stay hard.” 
The moment was so gone that they had no choice but to slyly join the party again. Seph was crossing her fingers that Folio hadn't opened his big mouth to anyone about what he just walked in on, but by the look Alexa gave her, she knew how unlikely that was. 
Thankfully, nothing was said. A few sideways glances weren't going to get her all riled up, not when all of her unhappy feelings were still currently being directed at Folio. She glared at him from over the brim of her cup, though he was none the wiser. Noah, on the other hand, noticed each and every time. Seph could hear his subtle chuckle accompanied by his hand gliding along her lower back as if that would be enough to calm her. It was…kind of…but not fully. 
“Are you drinking?” Noah had bent down so his lips were at her ear, allowing her to clearly hear his inquiry over the sound of mindless chatter around them. 
Uh oh, she had been caught. 
Seph contemplated her response, though she eventually landed on simply nodding. Lying about it definitely wouldn't have been a good idea. If Noah was asking, then that meant he already knew she was. Huh…wonder what it could've been to give her away. 
“Yeah…” she glanced down to her drink, then back up to his eyes that had focused on her with quite a bit of intent. “It was a not so great session, okay? I just wanted to unwind. It's the first time in a year, I swear.” 
A smile then pulled up on his lips and he laughed, head slightly shaking. 
“Seph…Seph…stop. It's okay. I was only asking so I'd know. You know your limits, not me.” 
To further prove that he wasn't upset, Noah lightly held her chin between his fingers and met her halfway for a chaste kiss. As they parted, his arm slung across her shoulders, keeping her pulled in close against him. 
“Never Have I Ever!” Alexa suddenly interjected despite whatever conversations were happening. 
The mention of the game made Jolly groan, his eyes, along with a few others, rolling at the suggestion. 
“Oh, fuck off, you big babies. It's fun! No topics off limits, yeah?” The other girl continued with an animated wiggle of her eyebrows, five fingers now being held up. “And we didn't have enough cups left for beer pong so you get what you get.” 
The remainder of the people around the kitchen island begrudgingly followed suit until they all had a hand up, long swallows of their drinks already being taken before the game even began. 
“That's only four fingers…” she called out to Nicholas, whose brows furrowed as his eyes attempted to focus on his right hand.
Oh, someone had definitely had a bit too much to drink. 
“Ah, shit.” He laughed, only to add the fifth finger to stand with the others. “That's my bad.”
“I'll start!” Alexa further announced while her eyes danced around the people before eventually landing on her. She grinned, already erupting into a small fit of laughter. 
“Never have I ever…been to Sweden.”
Seph narrowed her eyes, though opted to lower a finger for no other reason but to play into the joke. At this point, why the hell not?
“Very funny, you bitch.” She grumbled behind her cup, taking a swallow from the sickeningly sweet concoction. 
The only other person to not have five fingers up was Jolly, and he still appeared very lost and confused by the joke exchanged. 
No, she wasn't actually mad about her Sweden trip being brought up, but Noah still gave the back of her neck a reassuring squeeze when his touch traveled down along her back and then up again. The way he was always touching her definitely didn't help the need she still had for him, although she wasn't going to complain. What she was going to do was squeeze her thighs together to hopefully relieve the slightest bit of tension. 
It sure as fuck didn't work. 
As the game began to slide into a full swing, Seph quickly realized that people were playing rather dirty and purposely singling others out. She should've known this by the opening statement being about her, but she had figured that was just Alexa being…well…Alexa. 
During the game, Seph had told herself not to look at the number of fingers Noah had up, or which he had lowered for. She didn't want to know, especially when the questions were geared more towards the sexual side of things. Unfortunately, when she accidentally caught a glimpse of his two fingers up compared to her four that remained, her mind began to wander. 
Which had he lowered for? 
Oh god…it hadn't been the threesome related statement, right? 
Seph was sure he also hadn't lowered when someone drunkenly muttered incoherent words about having sex with more than two people in a night…right? 
Fuck, she was going to be sick. 
“Never have I ever acted like a complete diva on a video shoot.” 
Wait, what? 
Seph’s eyes quickly drifted to the direction of the voice before realizing the words had been spoken by Nick. He was staring dead at Noah, no laughter or the slightest hint of a smile to be seen. Well…this surely wasn't the Nick she was used to. 
That didn't stop Noah from dropping a finger, leaving him with only one. That one was switched to his middle finger, it now being directed to Nick. 
Before she had a chance to question what Nick was talking about, Noah’s voice cut through the silence that had fallen upon the group. 
“Never have I ever told Folio that I think my best friend’s girlfriend is hot.” 
“Okay, what's happening?” Seph pulled back from Noah a bit so she could look back and forth between both him and Nick. Neither responded, or really even paid her any mind, for they were practically glaring at each other. 
“I mean…Seph is pretty hot…” Alexa nervously murmured to cut the tension. 
“Never have I ever been caught by Folio getting blown by my girlfriend!” 
Jolly laughed, pointing to Folio who was appearing as if he wanted to just curl up and die right then. “Bro, you got a big fucking mouth.” 
“Fuck, I’m sorry, guys! Get some drinks in me and I just start saying things. It's not done on pur-”
Alexa gave his arm a tug to silence him, her head shaking. Yeah, they all knew this wasn't the time for explanations. 
“What is going on?! I really just need someone to fill me in on what I missed because-”
“Never have I ever rejected my girlfriend's advances for sex for over two weeks!” Nick continued despite it not being his turn technically, but it was safe to assume all cordial game play had already gone right out the window. 
Nick’s exclamation was loud enough to cover her own protests and demands for them to cut it out. She abruptly stopped talking, her eyes going wide, the entirety of her body freezing. 
But wait, did they keep saying girlfriend? Okay, now wasn't the time to dwell on that. 
“Oh shit…” Alexa whispered in shock at the outcome of her request to play the juvenile game. 
The way Noah tensed beside her was painfully obvious. She was far too scared to look over at him, knowing damn well he would be wearing an expression that screamed how hurt and furious he was. 
“Nick!” Seph hissed. 
It was like her saying his name had brought him back down to Earth, because he blinked a couple of times and then looked at her. His eyes also went wide to match her own and that's when she knew Nick had no idea he had even just yelled that until the reality of it came toppling down onto him. 
“You told him that?”
Noah’s voice had softened, yet there was still an edge to it; and fuck, was it sharp. 
That was when she finally mustered enough courage to tilt her head up, their eyes meeting. She tried to speak but no words would come out, nothing more beyond a couple of syllables that meant absolutely nothing.  
“No, Noah, I- I mean yes, I did, but I just needed someone to tal…can we talk about this in private?” 
“Nah, you want to talk about our private business to Nick every chance you get, so why don't we let everyone listen in too?” 
“It's not like that!” She quickly protested, her head shaking back and forth.
“He’s my best friend, Seph!”
“He's my friend too! I just didn't have anyone else I could talk to and he's always been able to give me decent advice and-”
“Was it Nick’s decent advice that told you to throw yourself at me in the bathroom?” 
This was the moment when people began to clear out. Of course they wanted to linger and listen to the fight, but everyone was smart enough to know better. For the most part, at least. Before she knew it, only her, Noah, and Nick remained in the kitchen. 
“What?” Her face contorted in confusion, very much lost by the question. “No! That's not…no.”
“Don't worry about it. I'll go ahead to my room and you two can gossip a bit more.” 
Much to his dismay, or so she could assume, she wasn't going to let it drop like that. Instead, she was right on his heels, following him back to his bedroom. Nick was calling out behind them, though neither stopped to figure out what he was saying. 
“Noah…” she softly spoke his name after closing the bedroom door, hesitant steps then being taken closer to where he stood. 
“Do you really want to know why we haven't had sex?” A hand was held up that silently signaled for her to stop progressing forward, which she obeyed, swaying body and all. 
“It's because you aren't attracted to me anymore, right?” Maybe Noah’s question had been rhetorical, but her drunken brain was always going to get the best of her. 
“Because you want someone with more experience or someone with less issues or someone who-” her voice was cracking and wavering as she spoke, the tears welling in her eyes threatening to fall over. 
Never before had she been so thankful for Noah cutting her off. 
“Jesus fucking Christ, Seph, stop. Listen to me.” Noah moved towards her, his inked digits grasping onto her shoulders so she had no choice but to stare straight at him. There was a deep breath that he exhaled, and Seph could tell that he was now struggling to find the words of his own. 
“When I look at you…I just want to fuck the absolute shit out of you. I want you begging and taking it and making those specific little moans that you do when you're really into it.” Noah paused and took a deep breath as if simply saying the words was too much for him to admit. Vulnerability wasn't something he did well. 
“But then at the same time I also just want to hold you as close as possible and make sure you're okay.” His voice softened now, just as his hands released the grip on her shoulders so he could instead slowly rub along her arms.  
“I have to know that you're okay, Seph, and that will always trump my physical needs.”
Now, why the hell couldn't he have said these things to her when they were both sober and shit hadn't just hit the fan? Why did a big explosion have to happen before he would express the deeper side of emotions to her? 
“And lately, I just…I can tell you're not okay. I've tried to get you to talk to me about it but you've been closed off, and I know you're annoyed with my questions all the time but I have to be able to say that I did everything I could to help.”
After a brief shift in his expression, Noah dropped his hands from her arms and took a step back. Maybe he had just remembered that he was mad at her and he needed to act accordingly. Or maybe he felt awkward since she had yet to say anything back to him. 
Oh, right, she did need to actually open her mouth…
“I never asked you to do that for me.”
Wait, no. She was supposed to say something nice! What the fuck was that?
Noah appeared both perplexed and offended by how she chose to respond. If he was trying to figure out why she had said that, then hopefully he’d be able to fill her in once he stumbled upon a conclusion. Not even she knew why. 
“You're unbelievable. What were you expecting me to do?” He breathed out a laugh of disbelief with a hint of annoyance - both completely understandable to be feeling right then. “Stand back and watch as you fade away to nothing? Literally and figuratively.” 
“No, no, that's not what I meant. I don't know why I said that.”
Seph lifted her hands to her head to press against her temples. A headache was slowly creeping up, though she wasn't sure if it was a response to her drinking or the stressful night they were experiencing. 
“Then what did you mean, Seph? I'd really like to know.” 
With her eyes closed and her fingers rubbing slow circles around her temples, she still somehow managed to shake her head and heavily exhale. There was too much going on her mind right then; focusing on one singular thought was proving to be harder and harder. 
“I don't know. I…fuck.” 
Noah dropped his hands to his sides in a dramatic smack and then rubbed over his own face, his form shifting back a few more steps away from her. He was aggravated. She would know this in any mental state. It didn't matter how hazy her mind was. 
“It doesn't make sense, okay? Like…why? Why would you think constantly rejecting me would be helping me?” 
“Because I didn't want you to use us having sex as an outlet!” 
“Oh, I wasn't allowed to have a few minutes of happiness and actually feel something because you were worried I'd…what? Rely on it? Become addicted? Constantly need to sit on your dick?”
“It's longer than a few minutes…” he grumbled. 
“That wasn't a fucking dig at you, Noah!” She groaned in frustration. To say that she was annoyed by his childish comment would've been an understatement. Of course that's what he would choose to latch onto. 
“Also, what guy doesn't want their girlfriend, or whatever, to be on their dick all the time?”
Wasn't that supposed to be the male dream or something like that? 
Those thoughts pushed aside, Seph and Noah stared silently at each other. She could see all the thoughts running through his mind, just as she assumed he could see the same for her. There was a lot she wanted to say, but none of it seemed like it would sound right. It wouldn't feel right. This was obviously a conversation they should be having when sober. 
But was that going to stop her? Probably not. 
“I know you were coming from a good place, okay, I get that. But…fuck…you don't understand how doing that made me feel absolutely terrible. Like something was wrong with me because why else would you be rejecting my advances?” There was another crack in her voice as she tried her best to explain her feelings, though that wasn't very easy to put into words. They both struggled with emoting verbally - if that wasn't already painfully obvious. 
“I needed you to be my boyfriend, Noah. Not my dad or my doctor. Or whatever you are, I don't know.” 
“You don't know? The fuck does that mean? What are you talking about?” 
Seph shrugged as she dropped her eyes down, a thumb now at her mouth for her to nervously chew on her cuticles. 
“You don't know if we're together or not?” 
There was now silence coming from her, this being enough of a response to tell Noah that yes, she didn't know. Or maybe she did? It was all very complicated and she was having an increasingly hard time wrapping her head around it. 
“Christ, Seph, of course we are. Why- what even makes you think we aren't?”
Well, now she definitely felt silly and possibly even a little bit ridiculous. She glanced up to look at Noah from beneath her lashes, her shoulder relaying another small shrug. 
“We've never really talked about it…so I didn't know…”
“You practically live here! In this room! With me! We hold hands, we cook for each other, we sleep in the same bed, we…do other things in bed!” 
Seph wanted to remind him that they rarely did other things in bed as of lately, but she figured he already had to know this. It's what had spawned the entire argument to begin with. 
“Well, I don't know, Noah! I'm not here every night so I don't know what you do or with who!”
Noah definitely looked offended now. Oops. 
“And you're about to leave for tour! Maybe you don't want anything serious before then so you can just…do whatever while you're gone!” 
The words were flowing from her at a rapid pace. Word vomit as people liked to call it. 
“You'll be meeting all these new people and seeing new faces and making new fun memories! While I'm sitting back here in Richm-”
“Then come with us!”
Seph abruptly halted her word vomit so she could process what he had just said. Her brows knitted together in confusion, a deep breath then being taken. 
“What?”
“Come with us on tour,” he repeated. 
“It's just a van, so it'll be cramped and we’ll be in shitty motels, and the food will be from wherever we pass, and I can't promise it'll always smell the best with all the other guys, but I want you to come.” 
More silence from her. Noah’s words kept repeating in her head as she dissected them piece by piece, looking for any evidence that pointed towards him just offering this to shut her up for the night. 
Almost as if Noah could sense this, he took a step closer to her, a hand reaching out to lightly rub along the back of her arm. 
“I've been wanting to ask you but I was worried that maybe it wouldn't be what's best for you right now. I was being your doctor and not your boyfriend…I can see that.” 
The hand on her elbow tightened so he could pull her into him, both of his long arms then securing around her to keep her close against his chest. Seph instinctively circled her own arms around his waist, face buried into him as he planted a kiss to the top of her head. 
This was where she felt the most comfortable. Her happy place. 
“Okay,” she finally murmured. The word was muffled but she knew Noah heard her by the way his arms tightened even more around her body. 
“Okay?” He repeated, clearly wanting her to elaborate even though he knew and she knew that he knew. 
“Okay, I'll go with you.” 
× × ×
REWIND: THE HILL'S GARDEN PARTY
NOAH
“I’m going to go grab some things real quick since we’re here, okay? It'll only take a couple of minutes.” 
Noah wanted to protest because that meant he would be left alone with the wolves, but he smiled and gave her a nod. She was already leaning in close to kiss him, which he would've been crazy to deny, and even crazier to ruin with his childish pout. 
Only when Seph disappeared into her house did he finally tear his gaze away from where she had been. He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, his eyes now drifting around to briefly study the faces of those around him. Some were still glancing his way but most had taken to acting like he wasn't even there. If they were friends with Seph's dad then he was sure only the nicest of things had been said about him. 
“Enjoying the party?”
Noah turned to see the devil himself approaching, a polite but slightly sinister smile taking residence on his face. There wasn't much that he was scared of but this man…he truly made his insides churn. 
“Can't really say it's my style,” he attempted to joke, a nervous laugh to follow. 
Mr. Hill only held his gaze even as he took a swallow from his drink. “I won't disagree with you.” 
“Listen…” his heavy hand laid against the back of Noah’s shoulder to guide him to the side, away from prying ears but not so distant that people would grow curious. “I thought you and I had come to an understanding.” 
Noah’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his jaw tightening and heart rate immediately picking up. 
“So, why are you here? And why is my daughter still parading around with you?” 
Silence was the only answer he could give. Back when Seph was away in Sweden, her dad had paid him a visit. Their conversation was mostly about the video circulating thanks to Maisie, but it had transitioned to the typical ‘stay away from my daughter’ monologue. Noah had only agreed so that the man would get out of his face. There was no intention to actually follow through with the empty promise, not until her dad 'sweetened the deal'. Initially he had denied all bribes but after the guys heard what the man was offering…
“I gave you the money to pay for that van your little band needed. I talked to my buddy who cut you the deal of a lifetime on your house. I held up my end of the bargain, so why haven't you? Are you not a man of your word, Noah?” 
Just hearing the things he had agreed to made him sick. There was a sting of acid in the back of his throat and he truly considered vomiting on Mr. Hill right then. Noah managed to swallow it down but only because he knew the man's suit cost more than his monthly mortgage. 
Despite Noah's silence, Seph’s dad could somehow read every thought he was having. He lowly chuckled, the grip on Noah’s shoulder briefly tightening. 
“Whatever you're thinking right now, go ahead and shove it all away. What you two have isn't love.” He grimaced through the last word. “It's fascination, rebellion, boredom.” 
“You don't know anything about what Seph and I have,” Noah finally spoke through gritted teeth. “If I could give you back every dime right now, I would. None of that stuff is more important than Seph.”
“No? Then why don't you go on and tell her? Let's find out from Persephone what's important.”
Noah shrugged the older man's hand from his shoulder, although in an indiscreet way that wouldn't draw the eye of others. He took in a sharp breath to attempt calming his nerves before shaking his head to the idiotic suggestion. 
“You want her to know even less than I do because you know it won't only be me she writes off.” Noah shared an intense glare with Mr. Hill, one that his wife must've noticed because she was soon approaching the pair and attempting to diffuse the conversation with a smile and quickly strung together lies. 
“Noah, it really was great to see you again,” Marilyn dramatically gushed while brushing a piece of invisible lint from her husband’s shoulder. “Dear, I think I just heard Bannon mention something about being in the market for a new office building?” 
With a tilt of his head, the man finished his drink and then pushed the empty glass into Noah’s chest for him to discard as if he was nothing more than the hired help.
“Davis,” he grumbled out his departure mere moments before Seph reappeared looking flushed but eager to leave. 
20 notes · View notes
clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years ago
Note
Oooh! I think I got a fun one. Can I have some headcanons for the lamb? He was walking around one day and encountered a tall human who wears a cloak with lamb horns? He doesn't know their human until they remove their hood (Also the reader is nonbinary because gender gets boring sometimes :]) (Also I headcanon that humans are either nearly extinct or the all of them live underground.)
- Kneecaps Anon
Aw I adore this idea!!
Also this will take place in the early days of Lamb's cult (where they're still getting the hang of managing followers, rituals, etc...definitely long before slaying and indoctrinating all the bishops)
...........
While Lamb was crusading through an unknown part of the Old Faith, they came across the ruins of a village that looked most peculiar. Much unlike previous ones they've discovered.
The homes, although desecrated, were far bigger than ones Leshy's followers would live in. They could barely reach the doorknob!
So they continued to investigate, before noticing someone emerging from the bushes with a bag and bloody dagger.
It's you, a mysterious tall figure wearing a cloak and sandals. But what intrigued them the most were the horns that poked through your hood.
They were unmistakably a lamb's horns.
At first they were hopeful that another one of their kind survived the slaughter...although when they called out to you, you stopped and stared at them in bewilderment.
"W-Were you talking to me?"
"Of course! Are you a lamb, too?"
"...ah...I'm sorry to say this, but no. I am not." Realizing who this was upon seeing the Red Crown, you uncovered your hood, revealing that you were in fact human. "I can understand why my "horns" led to you to believe that."
"That's too bad.." They frown, before expressing surprise that a human was still living in these lands...believing that they've all gone extinct.
But you politely corrected them on the matter.
"There used to be a lot of us, living in villages just like this. My ancestors had treaties with the Bishops until they were attacked by the One Below. And for whatever reason they chose to take their anger out on us, demanding that we go live in their domains or perish. Obviously we refused and, well...now this little village is the only proof we ever existed here."
"I see.." Lamb grimaced. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you the only one left?"
"Yeah. This place thrived for generations, invisible to the eyes of the Bishops, but all my friends and family either died off or fled to some other land, unable to cope with the constant feeling of danger all around us. Though I wanted to stay because I didn't want those false gods to scare me away from my home." You end your somber tale with a determined huff, still smiling. "But yeah...it sucks, but I've managed to survive for this long...so.."
Seeing as your views aligned with theirs, Lamb immediately invited you to join their cult, promising you safety and better living conditions in exchange for your devotion.
But unlike the more simple-minded animal followers they've wrapped around their finger, you weren't so easily convinced.
Although you admired lambs, you didn't like how this one was basically giving you the same ultimatum the Bishops once did to your ancestors: Join or perish. It seemed quite hypocritical.
In the end, you request to see the cult first and decide for yourself.
They oblige..but unfortunately for them, that means they can't just warp you there and use omnipresence to return to the temple grounds quickly.
But they knew they'll have to earn your respect and make a good first impression--and dropping you through a demonic portal's not exactly the best way to do that.
When you finally arrived, you were impressed by the architecture and the temple...
As well as all of Lamb's followers who flocked to you, awestruck at a newcomer like yourself. Some were familiar with your species, others have never seen anything like you before.
Regardless, they shook your hands in greeting, being fascinated by your cloak and how your hair looked, asking you so many questions that they nearly overwhelmed you.
You haven't gotten this much attention in years!
Lamb was lowkey jealous and pushed them all back to give you some breathing room.
The adorable creatures won your heart over, and you agreed to follow Lamb's teachings faithfully.
They simply changed the colors and symbol on your cloak to match those of the followers. You still kept the horns, as they found no reason to get rid of them.
Afterwards they showed you around, only to realize that you'll need some major accommodations if you were going to spend the rest of your life here.
You couldn't exactly take the mattress from your village here, and the little beds/shelters were too small for you to comfortably sleep in; and grassy gruel and berry dishes weren't going to sustain your hunger for long.
Nevertheless, they vowed to meet your needs, though they also worried about how well you'll fit in and get along with everyone--considering you're the only human.
Later around sundown, you noticed one follower (the only one who didn't greet you this morning) sitting in front of a makeshift grave with a depressed expression.
Lamb explains they've been stuck that way since their indoctrination several days ago, being the sole survivor of a massacre. The grave was that of their lover, who was murdered right in front of them by one of the Bishops themselves.
The sheep learned what happened via mindreading..but apparently it was so traumatic, they spared you from the details.
However, they expressed frustration in failing to convince this follower to move on and start contributing to the cult.
They've exhausted every possible effort at motivating them: inspiration, random gifts, even a funeral service was conducted (and for someone who wasn't even in the cult)..but nothing worked.
Lamb was starting to get angry, but quickly calms down and just reassures you not to worry, instead trying to show you where you'll be sleeping.
"Wait, do I have permission to approach them, Leader? Maybe I can help them out."
"....I doubt it. It's like talking to a piece of stone....but you have my permission to try." They allow you to go, wondering what you'll do differently.
You just went over to the follower and introduced yourself, sitting beside them for a few minutes in the hopes your presence would comfort them.
At first Lamb thinks you're wasting your time, but somehow....you got that silent follower to actually talk about their lover and all the good memories they had together, getting choked up by the end.
You offered them a hug, which they accepted as they buried their face into your chest, sobbing their little heart out and wailing over the cruelty of the Bishops.
It filled you with both sorrow and anger, wanting nothing more than to see their blasphemous empire crumble because of the grief they brought upon this one follower alone.
Meanwhile, Lamb's standing there just..completely shocked, especially after you calmed down the follower and bring them over to them.
"F-Forgive me, my Leader, if...I was being a nuisance by not listening to you." They apologize. "If you want me to start working right now, then I shall. I feel okay enough to do so. Whatever you need, just say the word."
"Wha...??? But....n-never mind. You're forgiven, [F/n]. For now just get some rest." Lamb dismissed them, and only after they've gone to bed do they turn to you with comically-wide eyes. "By the One Below...how did you do that???"
"Dunno." You shrugged. "I guess all they needed was a hug."
"...then why didn't they just ask me for one???"
"They probably didn't know they needed one until now. But I figured your mindreading powers would've anticipated that."
"...are you insulting the might of the Red Crown!?"
"I mean no offense, Leader." You chuckle, patting their wooly head. "Now, where will I be sleeping?"
Although a little irked, Lamb quickly got over it, relieved that you were able to help that follower...how ever you managed to do it.
You had a selfless heart, and that was a good asset to have in the cult.
Why were they ever worried? You'll fit in just fine.
303 notes · View notes
wundersmith-squall · 1 year ago
Note
ramble about your Ezra Squall redemption arc please?
Absolutely- id be very happy to! I'm quite aware that im about to sound like this:
Tumblr media
but you asked so this is what you signed up for /j
Soooooooo it basically wormed its way into my head because of the one time where Squall said something like 'We're wundersmiths we take all of the blame and none of the credit' and I was like, okay sir are you speaking from experience? What was the 'credit' of your actions? And also the mention of the shared enemy, which I at the time took as meaning partially something in the republic that threatens Nevermoor, and partially something to do with the system, the Wunderous Society and like, all the people in charge who are against wundersmiths and are trying to hold Mog back.
Along with these two things, I'd like to think that 100+ years of banishment are long enough to rethink your actions and become a better person.
So, I'll explain it in a way that wont take an entire essay to write out. Basically it goes in my head that, Courage Square was, at least partially an accident, and over 100 years the story got skewed, and the current population turned against Ezra and the Wundersmiths, while the population at the time knew how, Wundersmiths ultimately were trying to help Nevermoor. Courage Square was bad, which is why Ezra was banished, but he wasnt killed. After a tragedy, it would be expected that he'd be punished, but at the time, the Republic as we know it didnt exist, and so being banished out there was a very bad fate, but it was definitely better than death.
Ezra went through a, lot of bad mental states during the first few decades of his banishment, but as he grew older, he came to terms with both his past actions and his current situation, though he still feels guilty about it.
In my head, the Wundersmiths were originally established to protect Nevermoor from the weird creatures of the darkness that the Wunderous Society takes care of now. Those creatures are attracted to Wunder. When Ezra was banished from Nevermoor, there were no longer any Wundersmiths in there, and so WunSoc had to step up and find a way to cover for him. Meanwhile, Ezra, who still loves Nevermoor, establishes Squall Industries, partially to improve conditions in the Republic and partially to provide a bigger, brighter beacon of wunder to attract the majority of the dangerous creatures to a place where he could still handle them. In this same thought, the Hunt of Smoke and Shadow werent something he created, but a group of these dangerous creatures that he managed to tame.
On the same subject are the other cursed children, those who, gather wunder but are unfortunately dont have the gift to control it. The creatures of the darkness, who chase wunder, hunt down these children to take the wunderous energy from them, which they dont survive. Ezra does his best in this situation, but one man can only do so much, and the creatures are relentless.
When he first discovers Morrigan, he's not exactly sure what to do. He tries to just get her as an apprentice through the usual means in the republic, but after a certain mad ginger got in the way he sent the Hunt after her, himself being busy trying to help the other cursed children, but we all know that that attempt didnt work. Ezra, knowing about the wunder critical-mass gather-too-much-without-using-it-makes-bad-things-happen thing, so he used the gossamer to get back into Nevermoor.
Having to enter and view Nevermoor again, even though not physically, took a bit of a toll on him, plus having to interact with someone new while being himself, which is not something he's had to do in a long time. He's also never, had to teach anyone before.
From there, I imagine he goes from frustrated and angry, to irritated but starting to get attached to Mog, to actually being a genuinely good teacher (aka the floof you saw in my drawing, who doesnt sleep nearly enough but still tries his best to be a good person), who is Tired™ and also just as chaotic as Jupiter when he wants to be.
Thank you for listening to my ramble- I can happily expand on anything if anyone happens to like this train of thought. I have further specifics on, basically everything, but this is a solid overview.
67 notes · View notes
hoboblaidd · 1 month ago
Text
@juneforged continued from here
It was always a tightrope walk, conversing with one of the evanuris. Solas did not respect them as gods, of course, not when they had all taken their first steps in short succession of one another. But he would be a fool if he did not respect their power. They far outstripped him, even if one such as June could not hope to compete with Elgar'nan and Mythal's raw power. In a test of strength, Solas would fail. But ever more precarious was dealing with one who could match him in cleverness - or nearly match him, his pride stubbornly added. After all, Clever June's eluvians now belonged to him, and what once was a straight line for the god of the craft was now the woven spiderweb of Solas' guerilla war. "A grave observation," Solas agreed, "particularly from one who must have directed far more successful murders."
His traitorous heartbeat betrayed him beneath June's violating sense, and even willing it to calm would grant June a glimpse of his fear, rather than outrage. So Solas' eyes narrowed, a small, calculated tell that he purposefully did not hide. What he lacked in power, he made up for with a practiced righteousness. That, and his own cleverness, was both weapon and shield in his endless fight. "No man belongs to me," he bristled. "Though I do not expect you to understand that concept."
Sweat beaded on his brow as June let slip a fraction of his power. He may not burn with the sun as Elgar'nan did, but his fire was that of the forge, capable of melting flesh and bone as easily as steel. Solas preferred to keep a careful distance from any one of them, but June closed that protective circle Solas wove around himself as if he belonged there.
Solas tensed at the unnatural warmth and pressure of June's hand on his shoulder, yearning to flinch away from it but knowing that would only signal weakness. This was a battle that must be waged with wit alone, and neither could show what pieces they had on the board until they reached the final checkmate.
Still, he took the opportunity to move away when it presented itself. As if investigating the scene of the murders, Solas walked a careful circuit around the bodies. A circuit that put the unfortunate under the rug between him and June. The room still sweltered beneath June's power, but here, at least, Solas could steady his breath and heartbeat into something more neutral.
The offer of a wary alliance was an interesting one that Solas carefully weighed beneath his own mask of disdainful neutrality. He had accepted worse bargains, hovering around Anaris as he waylaid evanuris strongholds, and inevitably betraying him when Solas had got what he wanted of them. But the boon of a true evanuris, the boon of a being worshipped as a god, was not lightly turned aside. The wording was careful, as was expected of June - two boons of his creation. But they were parameters in which Solas could work.
And his mind turned along the same rationale as June's - anything to escape Elgar'nan's attention was better than the alternative. Besides, Solas was stuck between death at the hand of one god or another. June at least operated with reason.
"I will accept your bargain," Solas decided, even as his mind began to form the many justifications he'd have to give Felassan if he survived this. "On one condition: myself, and any other persons we encounter while investigating this scheme, will be allowed to leave free and unharmed. Whether they be my people, yours, or any of your brethren's. Take that as a boon if you must, but all we encounter leave with me. Those are my terms."
8 notes · View notes
tia-amorosa · 15 days ago
Text
Sunset Died - Erin's Crew
Plans
Tumblr media
It's the next morning, 8:43 am. After everyone had had a good night's sleep and breakfast together, they went into the large common room. Only Chloe wasn't there. “Where's Miss Shearing?"/ ”She didn't want to get up earlier. But don't worry, she's fine, she's just…”. Erin bowed her head for a moment. “It's all right, I'll talk to her later.”
Tumblr media
Erin had hardly slept the night before because she had to mentally prepare herself for what she had to say to the others. “I know they were getting ready for their well-deserved vacation. I promise you that you will be able to take it soon, with a few bonus weeks. Unfortunately… something unexpected has come up. Something I never thought would happen"/ ‘and what? speak plainly!’.
Tumblr media
“All right. Not to drag this out unnecessarily…I've received a sign of life from a former superior in Sunset Valley. And he's not the only survivor there.”. Her voice trembled a little, she still got a lump in her throat when she thought about it. “Sunset Valley? Wasn't there a meteor storm there over a year ago?"/ ”Right. I had just transferred to another base a week earlier.”.
Tumblr media
“But how can that be? There shouldn't really be anything left there except a destroyed landscape…"/ ”They were just incredibly lucky. There are at least 30 people who are still alive there under difficult conditions. “/ “And why haven't they been helped so far?” Roman asked with interest, but also somewhat forcefully. And then Erin told them everything she knew so far.
Tumblr media
Erin told and explained every single little thing Jack had written to her. About the losses, the outside manipulation and the daily struggle to survive. “The whole thing was… A giant experiment?”. /“For someone out there, the catastrophe was a perfect opportunity to manipulate Mr… Alto,” Peter said in a monotone voice as he listened to the whole thing calmly. “How could he be so stupid?”.
Tumblr media
“So they've successfully managed to strip him of all his assets….."/ ‘That's how it looks, but now he's not getting any more support’/ ‘and do they know who's behind it’/ ”No, that would be the next point. I would like to find out. He sent me some more information about the type of communication, and this transmitter frequency…"/ ‘Transmitter frequency?’.
Tumblr media
“Mr. Alto was able to talk to these unknown people on a certain frequency via an old radio set, and only on that frequency. But he could no longer talk with them after the agreement. They simply stopped letting him through. But he had probably memorized which frequency it was. I don't want to contact these people, but perhaps we can use this frequency and old radio connections to locate where the calls were coming from. I know that something like this is being recorded somewhere, whether legally or illegally.”
Tumblr media
Peter looked at her seriously for a moment. “I think we know someone who could find out something along those lines.” Erin nodded, her eyes wide. “Miss Shearing is not on good terms with me at the moment. I know she misses her family…"/ ‘I'll talk to her.’ Peter then said again in his calm, relaxed voice. “O.K. She's welcome to contact me at the office"/ ”So this is going to be some kind of rescue operation? What's the situation there?” Roman wanted to know.
Tumblr media
“We first have to get a picture of the whole place ourselves. It will be difficult now in winter anyway, because of all the snow. I know from Jack that there are no more roads there. And it would take years, maybe decades, to rebuild everything there. There is only a sparsely developed power grid"/ ‘What about telephone, internet?’/ ‘Internet yes, but unfortunately not a telephone connection’/ ‘Don't they have any cameras?’.
Tumblr media
“Perhaps some were destroyed or not every computer there was equipped with a camera. Many of the residents there have formed flat-sharing communities. Of course, this also causes conflicts from time to time. Everyone wants to live in their own realm. But it's no longer possible there because of the lack of intact houses.” Peter stood up and took a few steps towards hers. “I'll find out later which towns could take in new inhabitants.”
Tumblr media
“That's a good idea, thank you, Mr. Lee. Of course, people are free to decide whether they want to move to a new city or not. But I don't think they'll be able to live well there in the long term, no matter how much help they get."/ ”OK. But first I'll talk to Chloe…"/ ‘All right, thanks’.
Tumblr media
“I don't suppose there are many provisions left there, are there?” asked Roman with a long snort. “The supplies will last another two months at most. They've been subsisting on vegetables, hunted meat and some expired, dry food so far. It's a wonder they're all still doing well there…"/ ”Well, we can't bring much with us. And if so, then only so much until an adequate solution has been found"/ ‘mhm’.
Tumblr media
After Peter had made his way to Chloe, the others stayed there for a moment. “And you're still not going to tell anyone else about this? Not even the general?"/ ”mh, no, not unless I know who's behind the scenes. And it's certainly not just two or three little people. I don't want anything to go public for now, Cardona,” she said as she took a first look at Roman. “Um, yes… was something?” he said ironically. “I'll keep quiet…”.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tumblr media
@greenplumbboblover ⭐
Poses by: @poses-by-bee & oh77 (blueM)
6 notes · View notes
houseofsnarry · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
💚 HoS Members’ Recs: Self Rec ❤️
photo source
*Sorry for the repost! In the process of fixing a mistake, I accidentally deleted the original post. This mod and Tumblr are not on good terms right now. lol BUT! We added one more fic and it's a doozy! Check it out! And hopefully there are no more mistakes. *crossing fingers
- Scarlet It's NaNoWriMo! While we are busy creating new fics and art and rec lists and everything under the sun for our fav ship, what about some self-recs? Here are some of our fav Snarry works made by us! As we look forward to accomplishing our goals, we got to give appreciation to the works we've done in the past. <3
Art
🎨 Little Christmas story - @flymetosnarryland (AO3) with a snippet on Tumblr
🎨 Severus in red + Under the Influence Harry - @ofnightsndsongs (AO3)
Choose Your Own Adventure
🌸 What Comes Next (And How to Like It) - @likelightinglass (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 28.6k
A choose your own adventure fic! You are Severus Snape. You survived against all odds, and now it's time to take life into your own hands. What will you do with this gift of a second chance, and how will you find your happy ending? Your happy ending is pretty much always Harry Potter, but there's so many fun ways to get there.
Fanfic
📚 B.R.E.D - Elffaw Rated E, Word Count 5.3k
“You have been summoned here today,” he said, each word crisp and clear, “to partake in a physical examination required by the Ministry itself; in other words, you will be B.R.E.D.”
📚 Certain Dark Things - @liladiurne (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 50.3k
“You want me. I know you do.” I was too worn-out by then to even deny it. In the light of day, with only the summer wind and the cicadas to hear, it didn’t seem necessary to hide it. “It doesn’t matter, Harry. This can never happen.” He stared at me some more, and I did my best not to falter under those shimmering eyes. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he assured me.“ I know you wouldn’t,” I added, insisting on the conditional. I didn’t like the way he’d spoken as if it had already happened. As if I had already lost. Perhaps I already had. In which Severus takes a trip to Italy, thinking he'll have a quiet time at the Malfoys' villa, but Harry has other plans. Written for prompt #182: AU. Harry never lived with the Dursleys. He was adopted by the reformed Malfoys as an infant. He is secretly in love with his adopted father's best friend, Severus Snape.
📚 Contempt - @danpuff-ao3 (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 20k
Harry hates Snape, and he always will. (He will, won’t he?)
📚 Courting Day - wendymarlowe Rated M, Word Count 42.8k
It's Courting Day: seventh- and eighth-year students get the chance to declare their intentions to formally woo each other. The only way for Harry to avoid being a matrimonial target is to put in a declaration of his own. Surely if he picks someone who would never in a million years accept his suit, he'll escape unscathed...
📚 dream a little dream of me - @dandelionstars (AO3) with art by @acydpop (AO3) Rated T, Word Count 4.6k
While Severus was not a strong enough Seer to receive complete soulmate dreams, unfortunately, he had just enough power to catch fleeting moments of his soulmate. These flashes of intense joy were more of a curse than a blessing. Despair was suffocating when his hopes were dashed again and again like carved crystal, inevitably shattered on the floor. A Snarry Soulmate AU
📚 For I Have Found Salvation - @lumosatnight (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 7.1k
Severus is a priest, and Harry is the parishioner who may just make him break his vows of celibacy.
📚 Harry Potter’s Avada Kedavra Wedding - whythehellnothavefun Rated M, Word Count 11.4k
(From The Book of Terms And Their Definitions, page 101) Avada Kedavra Wedding: noun, informal, see also: Avada Kedavra Marriage An enforced or hurried wedding, due to one member being pregnant or under blackmail, potentially to gain access to another’s vault(s) and/or properties. (See also: Muggle Oxford English Dictionary, shotgun wedding/shotgun marriage)
📚 Invisible String - @givereadersahug (AO3) Rated G, Word Count 3.7k
The first time Harry saw Snape's black eyes — him truly acknowledging Snape's existence beyond him being his mean professor — it was the night after Harry killed Professor Quirrell. He was dreaming, and in his dreams, he was screaming. Harry dreams of Severus over the years.
📚 On the Origins of Dementors - DarkTony Rated G, Word Count 2.6k
Amidst the pages of tomes that now remain unread,there a story, a fable, a legend goes of a man made of misery…
📚 Sir Saisir - @coconutice22 (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 27k
Some things that glitter are gold. Twenty years after defeating Lord Voldemort, Severus has a meet-cute at a, ahem, private members' club.
📚 The Beat of Their Own Drum - @aeternumregina (AO3) Rated M, Word Count 2.4k
Harry sees Snape dancing at a bar, and is instantly enthralled by this new, carefree person who barely seems to resemble his old teacher.
📚 The Way Death Clutches At Life - @tax-onomic (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 7k
Death is permanent, unless it is not.
📚 This is not my beautiful wife - Klari Rated M, Word Count 35.9k
What happened after Harry smashed up Dumbledore’s office? With Sirius dead and his plans to run away from the Wizarding World on hold, Harry is on the edge— literally, and Severus manages to learn rather a lot about him at the top of the Astronomy Tower.
📚 Wish not for a soul that is full of sin - @serenaew (AO3) Rated T, Word Count 4.7k
After all, a flighty soul could not return to the water, or to the earth, as they maintained all life eventually should. (What one did not have, they believed, could not be broken.) Prologue to the merman!Snape, amnesia AU no one asked for.
Discord || Recs Lists
29 notes · View notes
furiousgoldfish · 2 years ago
Text
I wanna talk about specifically the effects abuse had of me during forced labour, because I'm wondering if anyone else is feeling the same, or if anyone has found a way to resolve the symptoms. (tw for forced child labour, abuse during labour, death threats and mentions of injury and violence)
As a kid, I've been forced to work, often in pretty bad conditions, and it would often include further abuse, berating, humiliation, criticism, yelling, I'd even be hit during the work, and I've learned that I have to keep working even if injured or crying, and had to keep those things silent and not complain. I have a specific childhood memory where I had to paint a garage for what felt a whole afternoon and I was crying the entire time, my vision was blurry, and I just thought this was normal, it was nothing out of the ordinary for me. There were also sometimes games played on me where I would be given wrong instructions on purpose, then punished for following them, or would be given zero instructions and a task I've never been taught how to do, only so I could be punished for doing it wrong, and berated for 'not knowing how to do it despite my age'.
I would also often be told that if I don't work, I can't live, and would be threatened to be kicked out and left to die if I don't deserve to be sheltered and fed, so refusing to work was not an option, I would be beaten for it and forced to work injured. It was also why I couldn't walk away from abuse during work, it always felt like a death threat over my head if I refused to do anything, because I would be risking being kicked out and left for dead.
So, the specific after-effects of this are not just severe anxiety during work, but also all of my body functions and sensations completely stop if I'm working. Even if I'm working for hours and hours, I will not experience any hunger, thirst, need to go to the toilet, I won't feel exhaustion, pain, anything. It feels almost like my body is back at the 'death threat' mode and stops everything in order to work, because it's still etched in my brain that if I don't work, I cannot survive, and so our entire survival depends on being fit to work, on stopping all body functions and sensations until the work is done and survival is secured.
And then of course, when I get back home, enter my room, I collapse almost immediately, feeling intense pain in all of my muscles and back, weakness, hunger, dizziness, sometimes tension headache, severe exhaustion. I worry this is because my body was under such severe stress being triggered during work, that it's affected the same as after surviving additional trauma. I had hoped that after a few years of work and nobody hurting me while I'm doing my job, that this would subside, but unfortunately, I'm still having the same symptoms, even working for kind people who offer to me to take a break or bring me something to drink while I'm doing physical work. I don't even notice I'm thirsty until I'm already looking at the drink.
Does anyone else have experience with symptoms like this? And did you manage to resolve some of it, and find a way to work without your body reacting to it as a severe threat to existence?
61 notes · View notes
biotic-raptorian-angel · 25 days ago
Text
50 Questions - Moira
Decided to do the 50 questions to get to know the character, at least how I write her.
What does your character do when they think no one’s looking?
Air play her violin, or dance. This nerd used to go to cyber raves back in her younger days and she’s still got the moves.
Checks her puppy cam to check in on Maddox at home.
What’s the one thing your character would save in a fire (beyond the necessities)?
Her favorite rabbit, Bonnie. It’s her control test subject for all of her experiments and unfortunately she’s grown rather fond of the little furball.
Her Doberman, named Maddox. He is best boy and the only thing to unconditionally love her.
Who’s on speed dial?
Angela
Gabriel(Reaper), if someone needs reaping lol
Your character gets turned down for their dream job. What’s their second choice?
She would’ve become a basement made geneticist whether Overwatch gave her the job or not.
But a professional violinist would be a close second.
What would they tell their ten-year-old self?
Stay weird kid. The strangest people oftentimes are the best people.
Where would they want to go on a first date?
Moira loves to cook, like obsessively loves to cook. So she would make dinner or would appreciate it if her date cooked for her as well. Someone’s cooking says alot about a person.
What’s the best advice they’ve ever received?
No one cares. Not in a sadistic way, but in the, be weird and do your own thing kinda way. Because no one cares about it as much as you do and most people aren’t even paying attention to notice the weird.
What’s the worst advice they’ve ever received?
“Just find that part of your brain and switch it on/off.”
What’s one physical detail they’d change about themselves?
Pre-serum incident, nothing. Moira revels in her genetic mutations, such as her heterochromia.
Post-serum, the damned cursed arm.
When was the last time they were held? By who?
When she last fell asleep on the couch next to Angela, nodding off and Angela just tugs her to rest against her warmth. 
What’s their favorite thing about their favorite season?
Summer back home is her favorite season. But specifically how the wildlife and vegetation just become so vibrant for those two short months where the sky isn’t as grey as usual. She takes Maddox on many hikes in the Irish countryside.
Their wallet gets stolen. What do they do?
Activates the tracking chip in it, hunts down who stole it and might or might not teach that person a lesson.
Prioritize: Love, money, power, knowledge?
Knowledge, its limitless and vast. Like a drug to Moira.
Money, for her research 
Love, she’s become sentimental over the years
Power, now this one might surprise you, but Moira isn’t the woman on the throne kind of person when it comes to power. She’s the one who does so from the backlines waiting for her efforts to come to fruition. 
What’s something nobody knows about them?
She is an avid appreciator of fine clothing and arts. A collector of fine artwork.
That she has her dog, Maddox.
What’s in their fridge?
Fresh ingredients for cooking meals. Her favorite time of day is when she can come home and be at peace cooking a good meal for herself.
What (creature, object, substance) are they most disgusted by?
Humanity. Humans, more so men, have been the single most detrimental beings on the face of this Earth in all its years. 
What’s their second worst habit?
It’s a toss up between whiskey and smoking.
What are the victory conditions for their life?
To solve the full mystery of genetics and how to prevent genetic deterioration, regeneration is the key to immortality. 
In the end, your character fails to save the day. Assuming they survive, what do they do?
Shut down. Isolate and end up drunk locked up in her apartment. Most likely spending alone time with Maddox. 
Your character is charged with a crime they didn’t commit. What do they do?
She either calls Angela to bail her out, or decides to absolutely verbally tear into the officers who are accusing her of a crime.
Your character is charged with a crime they did commit. What was the crime?
Probably either assault or murder. Let’s be real, someone tries to start something with her, she’s gonna finish it decisively. 
How would you describe your character’s life in one sentence?
All my big mistakes are when I try to second-guess or please others, my work is always stronger when I get very selfish about it.
What important statistic would they want displayed above them?
Lives saved thanks to her research. For gloating purposes solely lol
What’s the first thing they would buy if they won the lottery?
All of the money would go back into funding her research. No question.
What profession do they most respect?
Anything with manual labor. She recognizes how spoiled medical professionals are with not having physically demanding jobs positions, and just how much the laborers make the world go round.
What childhood injustice did they never get over?
Being bullied for being the ‘nerdy’ kiddo. She still to this day tries to prove to herself that she’s ‘cool’, aka sophisticated in her older years.
How would they handle having a panic attack?
She wouldn’t know what in the hell was happening. Moira doesn’t strike me as someone who would have to deal with them ever, so for something to have brought her to that point, it’d be a full meltdown.
Your character is burdened with an inconvenient superpower. What is it?
I think unfortunately for post serum Moira, it’d be the uncontrollable biotic energy her arm produces. Imagine being in the middle of trying to delicately use a piece of equipment and suddenly the energy just destroys it. 
If they died and could come back as any person, animal, or object, what would they be?
She wouldn’t want to come back to this world. She’d want resolution and an end to be final. 
What’s the best meal they’ve ever had?
Her self made recipe for barmbrack.
Where would they stand at a dinner party?
If not trying to impress a particular lady, or trying to humiliate some power hungry and cocky man, she’d be on the edges of the party people watching and sipping her wine or whiskey.
Who would they invite to the dinner party?
Angela would be first and foremost.
What makes a perfect day for your character?
Waking up a bit later than normal, cuddling in the late morning with Maddox, then taking him for a long hike in the Irish highlands.
If given the opportunity, would they want to know how and when they died?
She wouldn’t care either way. She’s accepted that death is all a part of life, and being up in her years, she knows that at any point today can be her last.
What’s the one thing they’ve always wanted to do? Why haven’t they done it yet?
Perform professionally with her violin. It started out as a thinking habit, to help distract her mind when she was stumped with an experiment. But turned into a true love for the instrument. Unfortunately, she’s been told she plays too clinically and without a soul, which had deterred her from pursuing it as a career option.
What do they tend to joke about?
Life and death. 
The inadequacies of men.
What’s off limits?
Touching Maddox without permission.
Tampering with her data.
Whose wedding would they cross the world to attend? Whose funeral?
She’s not close enough with others around her to warrant that extreme.
What impossible choice did they make that turned out to be the right one? The wrong one?
Right choice: To introduce herself intimately with Angela.
Wrong choice: The desperate need for a human test subject, so deciding to use herself. Aka the serum incident.
Your character has someone to hype them up. What would they say to get everyone excited about your character?
Angela of course would state how compassionate Moira actually is. She would try to make sure they weren’t either scared or annoyed with her. 
What recurring dream does your character have?
Receiving the award for finishing her life’s work. Finding the true cure for degenerative cells, infinite cell regeneration and immortality. 
What is the meaning of life to your character?
The meaning of her life is to crack the genetic sequence to immortality. 
What book does your character pretend to have read?
Any publication her ‘colleagues’ claim.
Someone takes undeserved credit for your character’s work. What do they do?
Moira wouldn’t stand by and allow them to take the credit. She would systematically disprove their involvement and humiliate their reputation for the foreseeable future. 
What controversial belief or view does your character hold? Why? Do they hide it?
Humans are no different than the animals they try to dominate. Just because we have a higher evolutionary intelligence, doesn’t put us as the apex predator or in our own category from animals. She states this many times with regards to when men try peacock. 
Your character is at a theme park. Where do they go first?
The central annex to park herself and people watch. Observing social dynamics and interactions in larger data pools.
What’s your character’s favorite name?
diabhal ann an clisgeadh (her mother called her this when she became obsessed with genetic sciences.)
Teufel in Verkleidung (by Angela when she;s being a brat)
What’s the biggest compliment they’d give themselves?
That she is truly at the height of her field, outmatching and dominating everyone else in it.
How does your character feel about bugs?
She LOVES them. Their genetic diversity is mystifying.
If your character could hit a reset button on their life, would they?
Not a chance. She’d be right back to where she is now.
Maybe the only moment would be to choose NOT to leave Overwatch and Angela.
4 notes · View notes
katzynia · 1 year ago
Note
I am very interested in smolJay, an unfortunately rare sight in fics - what's in "contractSlade+smolJay" ? Thank you :)
Ah, this is a monster of an idea :D Roughly a year ago I wrote a smol!Jay fic and during writing, it became much fluffier and sweeter than I had planned. Lots of my angstier thoughts/ideas for scenes were kind of leftover. Then, somewhere during spring, I saw a SladeRobin week prompt "Robin hires Slade" (or something, I'm paraphrasing) and that got me really thinking...
What if Jason survived Joker's treatment, and during his convalescence hired Slade to kill Joker when he realizes nobody else would do it (for him)?
Well, the idea ballooned from there. Now that's just the starting act, and the actual story happens in Gotham ~5 years later, when Slade comes to town looking for a possible shipment of Kryptonite rumored to be owned by Black Mask. He runs into Jason Todd and recognizes his one-time employer. Meanwhile, somebody is messing with Black Mask businesses... It's complicated as shit, with identity shenanigans and repurposing things from "Under the Red Hood", family feels, and all that jazz. Honestly, not sure if I can pull that off. At the moment, it's waiting for reinspiration and reconfidence, cause I also feel like all my stories are structured the same way and so I'll have to think about it.
I have ~6700 words written. Here's a snippet (don't mind the typos and the weirdness, it's a first draft)
***
“That’s a gnarly scar, kid,” Slade says. And the funniest thing is that it’s nowhere near the most notable thing about him.
The scar on his left temple is fresh. It can’t be more than a week or so since the stitches were removed. The hair around it hasn’t had the chance to grow back yet, leaving him with a weird and uneven undercut. The scar snakes down, ragged and uneven, all the way to the corner of his eyebrow. His skin is pale and yellowish, the black backs under his eyes a stark contrast to it.
And to top it all off, he can’t be more than fifteen. Based just on his side, Slade would guess even younger, but his voice has certain depth that speaks of maturity. And his eyes. Those eyes have seen some shit. They are the eyes of a person who is not afraid because they’ve been through something so much worse.
Slade can already cross over one of the questions he had.
“He did that to you?” he asks, and without conscious contribution, his own voice becomes gruff too. He doesn’t need to specify who.
The kid huffs, but it doesn’t quite hide a quick flash of resurfacing fear in his eyes.
“I want him dead,” he says, “He shouldn’t be allowed to—after he—” He halts in the middle of the tirade. Slade isn’t sure if he’s trying to swallow the words or try to get them lined up properly. He presses his hands on the table, hard, and takes a breath. Faint pink spots appear on his cheeks. They are starkly visible against the paleness.
“And you want me to do it,” Slade says, after the silence stretches. “Deathstroke the Terminator,” the kid says, “Fair deals. Trustfull--dependable.” He smiles a little, crookedly. “Allows for anonymity.” “What about your other conditions?” Slade says. “I don’t work with restrictions.”
Kid huffs. “You’re the professional, figure it out. You don’t leave unnecessary casualties anyway, and avoiding detection shouldn’t be an issue for you.”
“Except he never leaves Gotham”.
“Except when he does.”
“Do you have a way to track him?”
“No.”
“Which means the most likely location is Gotham. “And if I need to choose? Between letting him go and fighting Batman?”
The boy’s hands clench. Something almost horrible shines in his eyes.
“Let him go,” he says, and it seems like the admission cost him something. He takes a breath and briefly closes his eyes. “I don’t care when or how. Just that he’s gone, permanently, irreversibly, and that nobody finds out. Take your time, for all I care, just end that wretched creature.”
”And if I say no?”
“Will you?”
“Humor me.” The client’s answer to that always reveals a lot. Every job is the most important in the world, until it isn’t and actually Slade is the lucky one for being considered for it, such a privilige it is.
The kid stares at him in silence for a long moment.
“I’d be fucked,” he says bluntly. Slade’s eyebrows shoot up.
“There isn’t anybody of your caliber willing to work in Gotham.” In the boy’s droll tone, it isn’t a compliment, just a fact. Slade had had many clients trying to suck up to him. And it’s the truth: Deathshot is in prison (probably in Walker’s greedy clutches already), Shiva would not agree to a kill like this, and the League of Shadows doesn’t do anonymous (ironically considering their name).
“But you knew that already,” the boy continues.
“No one to do it for you?” Slade asks.
Something moves over the kid’s face. A shadow of anger and sorrow then something like acceptance.
The boy shakes his head. “No,” he says and the expression morphs one more time, into something like determination. “I would need to consider if I’m capable of doing it.”
Slade looks over the injuries. The kid doesn’t seem to steady, swaying a bit even there.
The boy’s smile holds no humor. “I don’t mean physically.”
Some people can’t kill, it’s an indisputable fact Slade has seen true many a times. They can’t do it and still remain themselves. Some would lose some integral part of themselves and never get over it. Some wouldn’t be able to stop once they started, a switch just turning on in their minds.
Something about the boy makes Slade think that he could. He could kill and walk away from it after.
“Alright,” he says. “I will kill the Joker for you.”
***
Thanks for asking!
WIP ask game here
11 notes · View notes
choices-binglebonkus · 2 years ago
Text
Wake the Dead: Endings We Should Have Gotten
By now, I’ve made it very, very clear that I found Wake the Dead’s ending supremely disappointing. All those chapters of build-up and hard work for…this? A saccharine, uncharacteristic ending where none of our choices ended up mattering?
Wake the Dead, as I’ve said probably a hundred times now, had a lot of squandered potential. Like, the potential was there. The book itself wasn’t anything to write home about, but the ending really could’ve turned things around. Sadly, it did not, and it actually lowered the quality of the book as a whole in my opinion.
But what if we got a different ending?
More specifically, what if we got several different endings?
As I was eating dinner before class, my mind wandered and out of nowhere, I started brainstorming ideas for different endings we could have gotten in Wake the Dead. Granted, not all of them are practical, as PB has time and budget constraints. It’s a miracle they were even able to make three Endless Summer endings, so I know my ideas would absolutely be out of the question. However, I thought I'd let myself dream a bit. Just for funsies, you know?
I would have implemented four different endings for the book: the best ending, the good ending, the bad ending, and the worst ending. In addition to these four different endings, the five love interests would also be determinant, their fates factoring into the ending the player would get alongside the colony’s stats.
 The LI Deaths
As I mentioned, the love interests’ determinant deaths also have impact on the ending you get. There are two conditions unique to a specific love interest that must be met for them to die.
 Angel: Angel will die if you let her bring her zombie parents to the colony in chapter 4 (eventually causing them to break out and kill Mack) and have a low fortifications stat.
She is killed by the scout zombie that attacks her and the main character in chapter 19 because Mack isn’t there to intervene and draw it away.
 Eli: Eli will die if you choose not to shoot him in chapter 12 (causing him to feel immensely guilty for attacking you) and have a low food supply stat.
He is fatigued from both a lack of food and his bite, which he’s still recovering from, and knows that he probably isn’t going to make it through the Solstice. To absolve some of his guilt from attacking the main character, he opts to accompany Walt in drawing some of the zombies away and taking as many down as he could before the two die together.
 Shannon: Shannon will die if you save Minna over her in chapter 8 (causing her to be traumatized) and have a low research stat.
She is surrounded by zombies and has a heavy anxiety attack before she is overwhelmed and quickly devoured by the horde.
 Sledge: Sledge will die if you choose not to save Boots and the other survivors in chapter 19 and have a low fighters stat.
She will take the risk to save Boots herself, but since she does it without your help, she gets surprised and killed by the zombie lurking on the ground (the one that wounds your leg if you do opt to try and save Boots) en route to save the survivors. Unfortunately, the survivors then die anyway because Sledge was unable to save them.
 Troy: Troy will die if you have a low morale stat. Yes, I’m aware this makes it easier for him to die, but unlike all the other characters, he’s not really a strong, smart, or crafty fighter. He’s just…some guy. I mean, his weapon of choice is literally a pipe. Plus, none of the hard choices connect to him in any way.
He is incredibly stressed over the Solstice due to the lack of morale, and this makes his already lackluster fighting skills sloppy. After the zombies break through the gate, Troy is one of the first casualties and is crushed by a soldier zombie because he just couldn’t manage.
 The Endings
The Best Ending: Upper-moderate to high levels in three or more stats, achieving at least 55 kills, and all five love interests surviving will earn players the best ending.
The colony survives and thrives and is able to repair the damage from the Solstice as well as begin preparing ahead of time for the next one in seven years. Shannon continues her zombie research, and it’s hinted that if things keep going the way they are, she may find a way to make bites nonfatal: the closest thing the survivors will get to a cure for zombiism.
 The Good Ending: Moderate to upper-moderate levels in three or more stats, achieving at least 50 kills, and at least three love interests surviving will earn players the good ending.
The colony, though it’s been damaged by the hordes of zombies from the Solstice, is still in good shape. There were minimal casualties, but it’s going to take a while to fix all the damage sustained. Shannon, if she is still alive, continues her zombie research, but doesn’t foresee any groundbreaking discoveries on the horizon, but is able to make advancements here and there.
 The Bad Ending: Lower moderate to moderate levels in three or more stats, achieving at least 45 kills, and at least three love interests dying will earn players the bad ending.
The colony is in really, really rough shape. It’s still standing, but barely. Damages are extensive, casualties from the Solstice were numerous, and supplies are stretched thin. The survivors speculate that they may have to abandon the stronghold and start anew elsewhere within a few months, as there is little that can be done to repair the facilities and barricades, and the zombies are still at large. Shannon, if she is still alive, can no longer continue her research due to dwindling resources and more prominent dangers.
 The Worst Ending: Low to lower-moderate levels in three or more stats, achieving 39 kills or less, and all five love interests dying will earn players the worst ending.
The colony has fallen. In the wake of the Solstice, the few who survived decided it was every person for themself and fled, taking whatever remained of the supplies with them. The main character, completely alone, vulnerable, and wracked with survivor’s guilt, exhaustion, and hunger, is bitten and grievously wounded. Though they manage to kill the zombie that attacked them, they have no supplies and no one to help treat the bite and they die alone in the woods with the terrible knowledge that they’re going to turn shortly after their death.
 Again, I thought these were some of the potential outcomes we should have gotten had Pixelberry deigned to put the effort in. As I said, maybe they aren’t the best, and maybe they aren’t the most practical. But I thought the ending we got for Wake the Dead was truly awful and definitely one of the worst book endings we’ve ever gotten. I said it a year ago, and I’m saying it again.
 WtD deserved better.
97 notes · View notes