#I think I’d do plant or bard

[mistyfoxxy]

@secretly-of-course 🐞 wanted to do this but her polls aren’t up and ready yet!! So here it is bestieee!

#the owl house #tumblr polls #toh spoilers #magic #owl house #Amanda 🐞 #polls #serious question #I think I’d do plant or bard #they seem like such powerful ones #but I’m biased ofc lol

[abyssruler]

archons ft. reincarnation

venti, zhongli, raiden ei x gn!reader

summary: you were dead—until you appeared again hundreds of years later, that same smile on your lips that made them fall for you centuries ago.

word count: 4.6k

note: first time posting my work on tumblr!

warning/s: spoilers for venti’s story quest and raiden shogun’s story quest act i & ii, angst, brief descriptions of past character death (reader)

part 2

VENTI

Venti’s fingers glide through the strings of his lyre, the perpetually gloomy weather exacerbating the melancholic undertone of his song.

“The outside world…” you muse, sitting beside your bard of a friend, watching the towering castle in the distance where your possessive god resides. “I wonder what it’s like.”

Small, melodic bells chime from your shoulder. You turn your head in order to face the wind spirit you call a friend. His little face is scrunched up, as if he’s regaling you tales of the scenery beyond Mondstadt. You don’t understand him, none of you do, but you indulge him with a smile anyway.

“Mhm. Oh, is that so? Yeah, I think so too. That seems lovely!” He bobs his head in agreement with your words, and you laugh at the adorable sight. You return your gaze to the castle by the distance, a wistful look in your eyes. “I’d like to see it one day. I bet the sky is so blue and the lands stretch on for miles and miles until you lose sight of the other end. The weather would be warmer too, because the sun would always be out.”

The little wind sprite lets out a tinkling sound. You don’t know what he’s trying to tell you, but you pretend that you do.

“Yeah. I wonder if the grass is greener outside of Mondstadt. It must be. There wouldn’t be constant rain over there so the plants won’t always be so damp and mushy. The sky must be full of birds, all of them just flying freely without a care in the world.”

Your bard of a friend listens quietly to your musings, now playing a softer song with his lyre. In contrast, your little spirit friend circles around your head, chiming something and pointing to the castle in the distance with his little hood.

For once, you think you understand what he’s trying to say. “Lord Decarabian, huh?” Something in you brews uncomfortably as you mention your god, so you try to lighten the atmosphere, “I don’t think he’ll agree even if we ask very nicely.”

Your little friend lets out a series of bell chimes that somehow lets you know what he thinks about your little joke. It’s only when Venti suddenly stops playing his lyre that the wind spirit quiets down.

You turn to him questioningly, finding him already looking at you with those blue eyes of his, always so bright despite being born in a perpetually gloomy city. There’s a contemplative frown on his face as he moves his gaze from you, to your little friend, to the castle in the center of the city.

Finally, he opens his mouth.

“Then let’s not ask,” he says, his eyes fixed on the looming castle. “He keeps his people in this city and forces us to call it freedom, but what is freedom if demanded of you by a god?”

“Venti…” you say in warning. Somehow, you get the feeling you’re not going to like what he’s about to say.

Somehow, you get the feeling you’re going to agree anyway.

He smiles at you and the wind sprite you call a friend, bright and optimistic. “I want to see the outside world too, so let’s fight to see it. Together.”

“Together,” you repeat, looking at him and your little friend. “A bard, a warrior, and a wind sprite. Sounds like the beginning of a long tale.” You gaze at the castle in the distance once more. “I wonder how it will end.”

Venti laughs. “It’ll be a happy ending. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bell chimes ring in the air as the small wind sprite circles the air in front of you, exclaiming his agreement to Venti’s words.

A thought occurs to you.

“Well, a tale isn’t complete if one of the main characters is nameless,” you say, offering your palm for him to rest in. Your little friend hops into it, sighing little happy bells.

A name. What name would suit him, you wonder. Looking up at the sky above, nothing sparks any inspiration. There’s only dark clouds holding the threat of rain. If you look closely enough, you think you can peek through those clouds and see something resembling the blue sky of the world outside. Wishful thinking, of course, the clouds in Mondstadt are thick enough to cover miles in the sky.

But if you squint an eye and tilt your head to the left, you think you can see a hint of a silhouette, something floating far above—

Then you avert your gaze back to your friend resting in the palm of your hands. A gust of wind blows past you. Maybe it’s premonition, or maybe you just wanted the best for him, but in that moment, you imagine that out of the three of you, it is this little spirit in your hands who will achieve the greatest of things.

A name pops up in your mind and begins to take root. “What do you think of the name Barbatos?”

He immediately zips up, twirling in the air in front of you and nuzzling your cheek affectionately. And just like that, the moment is broken, and he is back to being just your little friend.

“You like it, huh?” His answer comes in the form of a series of tinkling bells. You smile. “It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?”

✧

Two thousand and six hundred years later, the wind spirit turned archon stands on a raised platform, a lyre in hand and performing a song he hasn’t sung in five hundred years.

A bell chimes, signifying an entry to the door of the tavern, such an innocuous sound for the impending tragedy he is about to relive.

The last chord is strung. The crowd claps, disperses and thins. A lone figure makes their way to the front.

Someone clears their throat.

He looks up.

And suddenly he is back to that day millennia ago, just a little wind sprite tinkling bells in the palm of your hand. An apple for breakfast, lunch and dinner, your teasing remarks about how he isn’t going to be able to fly anymore if he keeps gaining weight. The song of the friend he embodies resonating with his soul.

How simple life had been, back when dreams of revolution and gods were just that: dreams.

Hushed talks of freedom between each round of song, the wistful look on your face as you mused how vast the outside world must be. Full of plains and lush grass, you imagined. And when Barbatos left the ruins of Old Mondstadt, one third of a whole, he made your dreams come true as he flattened mountains and brought warm winds to fend away the cold.

He only wished all three of you had been there to see it, instead of just him alone.

“What a lovely song! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you perform here in Angel’s Share before. What’s your name?” You smile at him, all soft and lovely with a hint of nostalgia in the corner of your eyes. As beautiful as the day he lost you.

He never realized how much he’d started to forget what you looked like until you appeared right in front of him, a ghost from two thousand years past.

Do you remember him? Do you miss him as much as he’s missed you? Will you forgive him for not letting go of the past, for taking on the appearance of your beloved friend? Have you been well? Do you have many friends? Any family?

Is there someone you hold dear to your heart already, someone who holds you close, who would never let you fight alone. Someone who won’t kneel helplessly as you died in their arms, smiling amidst the numbing pain from the gaping wound in your chest. Have you already found someone who will protect and care for you, because if not, then—

In this life, will you finally love him the way he loves you?

What’s your name?

His name, the name you gave him, is on the tip of his tongue. Barbatos, it’s a pretty name, isn’t it? And he was never able to tell you how much he agreed with you, how much he loved the name you gave him. He wants to tell you how he’s made Barbatos more than just a little wind spirit, wants to ask if you’re proud of him for achieving the freedom you once sought for—but most of all, he wants to tell you how much he loves you for giving him his name, his identity.

When the drinks become too much and his mind muddles the distinction between himself and his friend—is he Venti, or is it someone else?—he tries to remember you and the way his name rolled off your tongue. Barbatos. On his worst days, when everything becomes too much, when he tries to remember the way your voice sounded only to realize that he’s starting to forget, he says it to himself.

Barbatos.

Barbatos.

Barbatos.

It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?

And he smiles to himself and says yes out loud, and the other patrons will think he’s had too much to drink again, and he’ll shrug off their judging gazes and ignore the bartender’s disapproving look because finally, he remembers what you once sounded like as you spoke his name.

He wants to tell you how much you’ve done for him, even if you weren’t here with him.

But he bites back his tongue and puts on a well practiced smile, ignoring the twinge in his heart at the lack of recognition in your eyes.

“The name’s—” Barbatos “—Venti! And who might you be, oh beautiful stranger?”

The sound of your laughter soothes two thousand and six hundred years worth of pain within the span of a few seconds. He keeps the memory of it locked in his chest. It is ridiculous, the ease with which you burrow yourself back into his heart with just a laugh—though in hindsight, perhaps it isn’t so ridiculous after all. You never really left his heart even after thousands of years.

As your name falls from your lips, Venti decides it’s alright if you don’t remember him, that it’s alright if the name you call him now isn’t the name you gave him long ago.

Just being able to see you again is enough.

ZHONGLI

“I am thinking of retiring.”

You lean your elbows on the wooden railings, resting your face in the palm of your hands as you looked up at him. “Retiring? I don’t think Hu Tao would approve.”

“No, no,” he clarifies, “Not in Wangsheng Funeral. I have…another job that I wish to retire from.”

“You have two jobs, Zhongli? Never would have guessed with how relaxed you always are.” He cracks a faint smile at that.

“My other job is not very demanding of my time. Nevertheless, it holds an important role in Liyue.” The wind blows against him, his hair billowing in the breeze as he stood above the harbor. Somehow, you imagine him in white, a hood pulled over his head and a spear in his hand as he gazed down an imaginary foe in the sea.

The image leaves a strange feeling in you, so you quickly shake it away from your thoughts and focus on his earlier words.

“Are you some kind of big shot? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! Here I was talking to you so casually—” Your eyes widen in realization. “Ah! You were undercover this whole time, weren’t you? Are you gonna report me to the Tianquan for disrespect—” You’re interrupted by the sound of Zhongli’s soft laughter.

He gazes at you with such soft amber eyes you’re almost half-inclined to believe it’s the sun playing tricks on you.

How mesmerizing. How familiar. You think you’ve seen this sight before, you just can’t put a finger when.

“My work is not that kind of work. It is…complicated, to say the least. You need not worry about any perceived disrespect, I don’t mind at all.”

Your shoulders slump in relief. “Oh, thank Rex Lapis. I thought I was about to face the wrath of the rock or something.”

He stills, hands clenching against the railings for the briefest of moments before relaxing. It goes unnoticed by you. “Wrath of the rock… I don’t believe I have spoken such words in your presence before.”

“Really?” You turn to him with furrowed brows. Now that you think about it, you don’t think he’s ever said that phrase before. How strange, where did it come from then? “Must’ve been something I read somewhere. You talk like an old man so much, Zhongli, I’m starting to confuse words from old books with your ramblings.”

Looking away, he stares past the railings and into the harbor below, something almost melancholic in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

“So,” you say to distract him from whatever caused that look to form in his eyes, “Are you really retiring?”

He looks at you, still with those sad, sad eyes that makes something in you churn uncomfortably. So you place a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way his eyes widen at the gesture, and you give him the brightest smile you can muster.

“Well, whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you all the way!” And maybe your words got through to him, or maybe he saw something in your smile, but Zhongli chuckles, deep and rumbling. You once said it sounded like a dragon’s, and his face twisted into something you couldn’t quite read.

“Ever the optimist,” he tells you, fondness replacing that melancholic look in his eyes. “It is one of the many aspects that I admire about you.”

Your face heats up. Looking away from that affectionate look, you attempt to make light of his words. “H-Ha! Don’t go falling for me now, Zhongli. I’ll break your heart if you do!”

(You already have, Zhongli thinks, his heart beating a painful yet nostalgic tune in his chest.)

He waves your words away.

“Of course, such is to be expected of you,” he says idly, almost cryptically. You’re tempted to ask what that means, but he has the frustrating habit of pretending to be oblivious when he doesn’t want to answer a question, even though you can totally see through the act.

“Now back to the original topic!” You’re back to leaning your arms against the railings. Zhongli follows your actions by resting his gloved hands on the polished wood. “So, retirement, huh?”

He hums. “I was uncertain this morning, but our conversation has been quite enlightening. I have you to thank for solidifying my decision.” You watch him look over Liyue’s harbor, at the people down by the docks all working together like pieces in a cog. There’s something like pride in Zhongli’s eyes as he stares at the people. “Liyue is in good hands, is it not?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right. Lady Nigguang’s a real scary one, but she’s the best at her job. The Yuheng can afford to take a break now and then, but Keqing’s great at whatever she puts her mind in. Captain Beidou’s not exactly a government official, but she’s a known figure of the people, and she’s got a real good head on her shoulders—not to mention, real fun to hang out with!” You snicker at the memory of getting into a drinking contest with her. You lost, obviously, but the experience was worth it.

It’s then that you realize you haven’t mentioned the most important person in all of Liyue.

“And Rex Lapis…” Zhongli seems to straighten at the mention of your archon. “He only comes down to Liyue once a year now in the past few centuries. Well, that’s to be expected since Liyue’s at peace now. I guess even gods need to rest every now and then.”

(Something in his chest twists at your words.)

“Yes, they do, don’t they?” he agrees, his voice solemn.

You nod. “He’s probably over in Celestia partying with the other gods. You think he’s shacking it up with his partner up there? Heh, at least one of us is getting some.”

The reaction you receive is unexpected, but pleasantly surprising nonetheless.

Zhongli lets out a full blown laugh, head tilted back and shoulders shaking, eyes closed with mirth. You stare with your jaw open, unable to take your eyes off him even as his laughter begins to die down. It looks just like—

A man in white robes, veins of gold running down his arms as he held his stomach. His head tilted back, the ground shaking with the force of his laughter, his hood falling down to reveal familiar amber eyes gazing at you with mirth, fondness lurking beneath his smile—

“Ah, I truly have missed this.” Missed you, he doesn’t say, but you hear it all the same.

You decide that critical thinking really isn’t for you, so you brush away the strange not-memory and the feelings that rise up when he looks at you like that.

Teasingly, you grin at him. “Aw, Zhongli, it was only a week yet you missed me that much? Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

The quirk in his lips seems to tell you that he expected such an answer from you.

He then turns his head up, gazing into the mid-afternoon sky, your teasing forgotten.

“Once I retire, allow me to invite you for an afternoon of drinking osmanthus wine. I recently discovered a merchant selling top quality wine, and once i acquired a taste, it truly was—as per the merchant’s words—as if you have been taken back to a thousand years ago.”

There’s a quip waiting to to be said at the tip of your tongue, a joke at how he’s secretly been an old grandpa this entire time, but you swallow back the urge to let out the lighthearted joke.

There’s a fragility to this moment that you can’t quite put a finger on, so you hold back your usual retort and mull over your decision.

“I’d like that,” you say after a few heartbeats.

Zhongli smiles, and this time it’s less delicate, more sure of himself.

“I look forward to it.”

✧

You nearly barf once the liquid enters your mouth. All those drinking contests with Beidou has made your stomach weak. But the sight of Zhongli serenely sipping his own osmanthus wine reminds you to have enough tact not to mention how bad it tastes for you.

To delay your second sip, you decide to ask, “How is it?”

Zhongli places his cup down, the procelain making a soft noise as it meets the saucer. He then looks up, sees you holding your own cup of osmanthus wine and trying not to look constipated at the taste, and he smiles at the familiar sight.

“It tastes the same as I remember.”

EI

“Oh my, Your Eternal Excellency! It’s an honor to have your most exalted presence in the Yae Publishing House!”

Her entire world stops, suspended in a haze, narrowing down to this little booth in a random street in the city of Inazuma. Time stretches on for eternity, while the god chasing it is stuck staring at the sight of a familiar, beautiful, ephemeral mirage.

There’s a friendly smile on your lips, not a hint of nervousness at being in the presence of a god such as herself. You’ve always been so fearless. Brave and courageous and stupid and self-sacrificing. Ei loved and hated that attribute of yours, back when she was still capable of loving someone without ruining them.

“Ei? Are you alright?”

For a moment, she lets herself believe it was your voice that spoke those words to her. Soft, soothing tones that once lulled her to rest after a day of training non-stop to improve her martial skills, back when a kagemusha like her was still granted the luxury of rest.

Sleep, Ei. Even gods need some shut eye.

But this is one of the many flaws of ephemerality—the moment for engaging in selfish delusions ends far too soon.

It takes all of her willpower to tear her gaze from you in order to face the Traveler.

“Yes, just a little surprised.” Years and years of experience has taught her to control her voice. It will not waver, not even in the presence of her once-dead lover.

“You sure? You kinda spaced out for a while back there,” the floating pixie who calls herself Paimon remarks.

“Yes, I am quite fine,” she says.

Although, is she truly? Perhaps not, but five hundred years of solitude has hardened her. Had this been before, perhaps she would have wept upon seeing you again, alive and whole and not painting the grass with a pool of your own blood.

Ei directs her attention to the Traveler. “Now, what were you saying about those light novels?”

For the rest of her time in the Yae Publishing House, she spends it dutifully avoiding your curious gaze. Even going so far as to wait by the railings as the Traveler picked a light novel for her to read.

She heard you speak to the Traveler once, making a suggestion regarding the selection.

“I think she’ll like this one!”

You were right, she did like it.

✧

Ei tries not to, but every time she ventures out of Tenshukaku to see more of her people, she passes by the Yae Publishing House that you, more often than not, watch over.

✧

The leylines near the roots of the Sacred Sakura Tree are being strange.

Walking with the Traveler after the disappearance of Furuyama, the blind tea-brewer, is solemn. The path they’re traversing in is painfully familiar. She tries not to remember what the scenery would have looked like five hundred years ago.

A twig snaps. She and the Traveler whirl at the direction of the noise—

And Ei is once again faced with the ghost of her past.

“Ei, is it really you?”

She has seen you in this era, wearing a kind smile and modern clothes. Always so welcoming despite the strangeness of the Raiden Shogun visiting a light novel store every other week. No, your appearance is not what makes her stumble, makes her breathless and teary-eyed as she closes the remaining distance between you.

It is the way you are looking at her. Because finally, finally there is recognition in your eyes.

You are solid beneath her touch, not an apparition, not a mirage. Your armor digs into her skin as she embraces you, her heart the lightest it’s been in five hundred years.

You’re sweaty and dirty and a little bit bloody, but Ei has seen you in the worst state possible. Dirtying her immaculate clothing is a small price to pay for this brief moment.

The Traveler watches with wide eyes, reconciling the image of the warrior in worn, outdated armor with the kind, cheerful editor of the Yae Publishing House.

“I was starting to lose hope,” you tell her, voice low with a quiet sort of relief. The smile she receives makes her feel young again, a kagemusha who fell in love with one of her sister’s retainers. “Now that you’re here, I’m sure everything will be alright.”

The future you speak of is nonexistent. The moment you died—her last hope, the only remaining light in her life after the death of her sister and companions—everything became a far cry from alright.

But Ei will tell you none of this. Your current self is safe in Inazuma City, living in the future she created with her own hands. But you of the past, the one she loved dearly, you know nothing of this future, of what will happen—had happened—to you, and she will keep it that way.

Perhaps this is just her way of attempting to alleviate her guilt upon your death, but she wants this ghost of you to move on with the knowledge that everything will be fine, even if all of it is a lie.

This time, it is her that prompts you to rest your head on her lap, stroking your hair and watching you be lulled to sleep.

“Rest now. I will handle the rest.”

Your eyes flutter closed for the final time, taking her hand in yours. You leave her with parting words that will resonate deep within her soul for the rest of eternity.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, Ei.”

✧

One would think that after battling herself for five hundred years, her first words to her dear friend would be to ask how Inazuma is, but perhaps five hundred years has made her a bit more selfish. So instead, she asks about you.

“How is…?” Ei doesn’t need to mention your name for Yae to know who she’s referring to.

“Oh, still delightful as ever, that one. Asks about you often, though. Far too often, in my opinion. Why, if I didn’t know any better I’d have thought I was only being approached so I can be the relayer of any news relating to you.” Yae shakes her head fondly. “Even without memories of your time together, that little one is still so smitten with you.”

Ei’s cheeks turns a light shade of pink. At the sound of Yae’s snicker, she turns a frown at the devious kitsune.

“Miko…”

“Oh, come now. Can’t a girl have a little bit of fun? Although, none of what I said was untrue.” Yae’s tone softens just the slightest bit, knowing the delicacy of anything regarding you. After a moment though, a sly smile makes its way to her lips. “If you have any tips on how to woo someone, be sure to tell me, Ei. Authors these days just have no imagination for romance, always so dry and boring.”

It’s a simple teasing remark, one of many that Yae is prone to saying. Ei shouldn’t respond to it, but she can’t help but say the first word that comes to her mind.

“Gifts.”

✧

“Your Eternal Excellency!”

The genuine surprise in your face leaves her amused. You quickly attempt to fix your messy hair and rumpled clothes. Had it been anyone else, she would have thought them lazy for being so unkempt, but you manage to make even the smallest of things endearing.

She supposes some things stay the same, even in a new life and a new era.

“I came to bring you a gift,” she says, holding out the Raiden Shogun statue that was sent to the Tenshukaku that morning.

You stare at the object with wide eyes, like you’re unable to believe that your archon is giving you an actual gift instead of the other way around.

When she set out in search of you that afternoon, she thought giving you something would be a good gesture. Although, in hindsight, gifting you a statue of herself may come off as conceited of her. Ah, she really should ask someone for advice before she approaches you next time.

Before she can apologize and return the statue, you’re already taking it from her hands, a look of wonder crossing your face as you inspected it.

“This was sold out hours ago! I was planning on buying one but I got there too late!” Casual. You speak so casually, as if the person you’re speaking to isn’t the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder.

As if the person you’re speaking to is simply her, Ei. Not the Raiden Shogun. Not the Electro Archon. Just Ei.

You give her your best smile. “Thank you.”

Can a person still be the same person even without their memories?

Ei doesn’t know, but perhaps she’ll find out soon.

part 2

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #archons x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #ei x reader #raiden ei x reader #raiden shogun x reader #gn reader

[film-score-simp]

OKAY FOOLS HOW YALL DOING IM BACK AFTER BEING DEAD FOR LIKE MONTHS-

See, I had a Thought which the Merlin fandom might be interested in. Especially the fanfic writers.

I was browsing Pinterest, as you do, and stumbled across a few tumblr posts instead of actually looking on the site… again, as you do.

And I came to a fun idea.

So y’know how with some pieces of fantasy media they go ‘oh with the amount of stupidity here this is totally a D&D game’?

Well… that, but Merlin.

Like we already have scenes that would totally fit the bill of a D&D game. The whole scene with old Merlin and the knights with the stepping stool onto the horse is just so unbelievably D&D, and I can imagine the scene with the “..reading poetry.” as just real bad persuasion/deception rolls from both Merlin AND Arthur.

Just imagine the chaos.

Here are my personal headcanons for their classes, but feel free to debate about it:

Merlin: Sorcerer. This man is too much of an idiot to be a wizard (though he DOES get hurt enough to be one), and I reckon being a wild magic sorcerer would totally fit the bill. He’s powerful, but hijinks must ensue- thus, the wild magic. Or perhaps not. People might assume it’s wild magic and turns out it’s just Merlin thinking he’s funny.

Arthur: Bard. Immediately. He’s got paladin energy as in like the ‘Chosen One’ and also he’s a knight, but he’s so stupid and also charismatic that he just gives bard to me. Like he’s so stupid and charismatic with literally everything, that Merlin ended up liking him. Like this man is a himbo that dresses brightly.

Morgana: Absolutely a warlock. She would have so much fun with eldritch blast, and being weird and spooky totally fits her vibe later in the series. She would probably be the one to sometimes have the braincell in the party and use her magic responsibly… but also eldritch blast. You gotta use eldritch blast-

Mordred: I don’t think he has chill enough vibes for the druid stereotype, but he definitely could be a druid. Giving funky nature powers to this kid would really be a hilarious idea. Like imagine Mordred with wild shape. I also think he has the possibility of being the Dionysus kind of druid… y’know, the greek god who turned people into dolphins just because? Yeah, him.

Gwaine: Barbarian. Or fighter. He may be a knight, sure, but with the amount of bar brawls he gets into? Absolutely. The fool definitely would fist fight someone in a dark alleyway at 2AM, it’s just what he’s like. He likes to hit people and drink alcohol- it just fits his whole MO.

Percival: Also a barbarian. His entire thing is strength, and the ‘little man’ comment just screams of a man with high intimidation. He may be a gentle giant and not going for the whole stereotype of angry rage beast, but this guy can totally scare without it.

Lancelot: Lancelot is a paladin. He’s the very epitome of ‘Good Boy.’ This guy is such a Righteous knight and just a generally cool person that I think that a god straight up WOULD get in contact to have him fight for the forces of good. I love this man so much. I also love paladins. Perfect combo.

Elyan: Elyan’s a cleric. He’s caring and loyal, as well as not bullying Merlin regularly. He’s also pretty cunning so possibly rogue there as well? I’d be more inclined to lean towards cleric the most though, cause he’s one of the most chill knights and also balances out the chaos of Gwaine and Percival as a duo… they’re nuts-

Leon: Also a paladin. Less of a ‘pure and true soul’ guy like Lancelot, but more of a ‘stands for what’s right and upholds the law’ kind of paladin. Like he’s totally a follower of chivalry with all the traditional ways of doing things- always respectful and polite but just kinda a little at arms length.

Guinevere: Stereotypical druid. Totally a tree-hugger and loves plants. Also she gets to be a Disney princess now and talk to animals in forests. Living out her best life in the forest with her whole cottagecore aesthetic. Even with her becoming queen, she’s totally still a druid. Albeit a royal one now.

Gaius: Oh he’s so gonna be an artificer. But specifically an alchemist artificer. He can make healing potions and mix weird medicines together, sure, but jesus christ the old man gets into just as many shenanigans as the main group. I mean, the whole possession fiasco with the goblin is enough proof for that-

(And before anyone tells me a character’s missing, it’s been a while since I watched the series, I’m trying my best hhhh-)

#merlin #bbc merlin #dnd #dnd campaign #dnd headcanons #merlin headcanons #dnd merlin crossover #headcanon #joke headcanon #fandom #merlin fandom #yes we’re still alive #we’re just lying in wait #like arthur- gkghkgkgkgk #but yeah these are my opinions

[69misato69]

The Wind (Zhongli x Venti) ✦ 2k, smut, fluff, light angst

archive of our own ✦ twitter

masterlist pinned on my profile !

zhongli and venti have some private catching up to do after the lantern rite banquet

cw: blowjobs, anal sex, anal fingering, consensual unprotected sex, ejaculation, creampie

Top Zhongli x Bottom Venti

writer's note: explicit +18 content, please view at your own risk. thank you, have fun !

“I thought you would have departed by now.” Zhongli gazed at the bard sitting with his back turned, looking down upon the mountains of Liyue illuminated by moonlight and floating lanterns. 

“Fancy running into you again, Mr. Zhongli." he chirped and turned away, eyes squinting with the genuine smile that spread to his lips and cheeks instantly at the sight of the consultant he had ‘just met’ earlier that night.. 

Zhongli paced towards him, “Ah, I see you’re still committed to the act.”

Venti was cuddling a bottle of wine, his cape moved with the light breeze along with his braids while his legs swayed off the edge. Truly a reckless position for anyone but the Anemo Archon. “Well, at least I had time to practice. You were the real star of the show.” he jested. 

Zhongli looked down, “You flatter me, Barbatos. Would you like some company?” 

The warm glow of amber surrounding them faintly lit up Venti’s face, exuding excitement at hearing his name spill from Zhongli’s lips as he patted on the patch of grass next to him, “I’d like that.” 

Zhongli took the direction, taking his coat off and laying it neatly over the seating arrangement right behind them. He certainly didn’t find it odd that Venti was sitting on the ground in the vicinity of three chairs and a table. 

“Is that your drink of choice, or could I interest you in some tea?” Zhongli pointed towards the bottle in his lap when he settled down.

Venti unwrapped the glass of his clothing, lifting it lightly from its neck, “What? Oh, this? It’s sealed.” he handed it over to Zhongli, “I brought it for you.” 

Zhongli’s brows raised, he held the bottle in a delicate grasp, “Dandelion wine?”

“Yeah. I heard that you came all the way to Mondstadt and still didn’t have any.”

It was true, Zhongli recalled everyone at Angel’s Share attempting to talk him into trying it, oblivious to the fact that it was already a familiar taste for the archon. Though, their efforts had proven futile as Zhongli had sipped away on his tea all night.

“Well, it would be awful to embarrass myself in front of strangers.” he smirked, paying homage to what Venti said earlier during the banquet. 

He protested, “Hey! You can’t just steal my excuse.”

“Excuse?” Zhongli’s instant realization painted Venti’s cheeks red, “So that is not the true reason you refrained from drinking?”

Venti sighed as he fell back on the grass with a thud, he intertwined his fingers and rested his head on his palms. A few moments of silence passed while he deliberated, “If I tell you, then you’ll tell me as well.” 

Zhongli was a retired archon, but that didn’t mean that his duty of fulfilling contracts had ceased, “Of course, it’s only fair.” his eyes remained fixated on the scenery. 

“I—” Venti halted, the hesitation in his voice was unfamiliar to Zhongli, he wasn’t the kind to think before he speaks usually, but now it seemed like he was trying to choose his words with utmost care. 

“I would just… hate to forget about today.” 

Zhongli turned back, Venti was still laying down, staring at the stars. 

“There haven’t been a lot of days worth remembering lately.” a bittersweet smile formed on his lips, “But…Seeing you again, I’d like to remember that.” 

Zhongli turned forward, a lump began to form on his throat. 

“Now hold your end of the deal, God of Contracts.” Venti was eager to take the attention off of himself. 

Zhongli gulped, he leaned back to lay next to Venti, “I thought it was rather obvious.” he smiled, “Wine, essentially, is just a beverage fermented from plants, is it not?”

Venti sighed playfully, “You haven’t changed a bit. Yes, it’s just plant juice, go on.” 

“I digress. What I mean to say is that there is nothing inherently special about it.” Zhongli kept rambling as his hand assisted his words, suspended in the air making light motions, similar to how he would talk standing up, but now along a horizontal plane, “But the company of a friend, or a member of your family, or a… loved one maybe.” he turned his face towards Venti, “Isn’t that what makes it meaningful?” 

Venti seemed puzzled, “But you were already with Traveler and Paimon, weren't you?”

Zhongli hummed, “Dandelion wine is a deeply cherished one among my memories, though, whenever I reminisce upon it I find it to be associated with a…certain figure. It is not always so easy to change one’s ways, especially those created when one is young and full of life. I’m sure you would understand.” 

Venti’s eyes turned glossy at the words until eventually, a single tear broke loose and landed on the grass beneath his cheek. Zhongli reached his hand out, wiping away the wet trail under his eye lovingly, “Your absence pains me enough, even without a reminder. Therefore, I would not indulge in your gift, but I would still like to keep it, sealed as it is.” 

Another tear followed, then another one from his other eye, they streamed down from Venti’s face like the drizzle of rain, gaining speed until he was sobbing within Zhongli’s hold. 

He patiently and diligently dried Venti’s cheeks.

“I missed you, Morax.” he let out a sharp exhale, “So much.” 

“I know.” Zhongli cooed, his hand trailed down to Venti’s chest, hovering over his shirt for a trace of the Gnosis inside, yet he found nothing but pain. Only suffering and intense amounts of hurting buried in his chest, yearning and loss, the crushing burden of being alive, yet, still so much love. 

Love , for freedom and all that was beautiful in the world. Undying affection that kindled itself more and more with Zhongli’s touch. 

“Allow me to ease your sorrow, Barbatos. At least for tonight.”  

Venti held onto his wrist, almost afraid to let go, scared that Zhongli could disappear at any moment. 

But he didn’t. Instead he sat up, gently guided Venti onto his lap and pulled him in a tight embrace. A sought after reunion that both of them had been dreaming of for centuries. Zhongli buried his face on Venti’s shoulder, reveling in the familiar scent of dandelions.

He couldn’t contain himself any longer as tears pooled around his eyes as well. 

Venti pulled away, his hands brushing through Zhongli’s ponytail traveled up to his face, cupping his cheeks gently. 

“We’re too old to be breaking down like this.” he chuckled.

Zhongli moved closer to his face with a broken smile, “Speak for yourself, I’m still young at heart.” 

Venti burst out laughing, he wrapped his arms around Zhongli’s neck and brushed against his nose with his own. Time stopped, everything around them froze, the leaves no longer rustled, the faint voices of the festival quieted down, for a brief moment, the world ceased to exist. 

It crumbled around them, falling into a void as their lips touched. And suddenly, they really were young again. Just two archons in their early days with so much still unknown to them about the secrets of their universe.

Lazy afternoons they spent in Windrise, rolling around in the grass, sharing a bottle of dandelion wine and tasting it off of each other’s lips. 

Watching the night fall from Liyue Harbour after a hike in the mountains, releasing a lantern during the festival as Venti would fly after it, waving down to Zhongli while he would watch from the docks how both of them would disappear into the clouds. 

Only a kiss. 

Merely the touching of their lips with their bodies tangled together, yet it held so many memories of them, like a thousand frames of photographs frozen in an iceberg, suddenly being summoned again to be lit-up and unshackled from the unforgiving flow of time.

Zhongli pulled away, out of breath, as he examined Venti’s flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, a sight to behold, the most beautiful scene he ever had the honor of witnessing. 

“I’m glad the wind has returned to my side.” he whispered over his lips.

For the first time in years, the breeze around him felt alive. 

Venti held onto Zhongli’s shoulders as he desperately leaned in for another kiss, allowing Zhongli’s fingers to roam around his body and strip away the layers of clothing. Golden brown and viridescent colored fabric pooled up around them as Zhongli laid him down, finally taking off his white tights, careful not to rip them. 

Venti trembled with every stroke and every kiss that Zhongli left all over his thighs. His hands and lips gently traveled all over Venti’s body, generously stopping at spots he remembered to be sensitive. 

Venti’s worries and reservations vanished slowly, he couldn’t focus on anything but Zhongli’s presence, his comforting yet enticing aura, it sent a wave of heat between his legs. Zhongli nuzzled his face in his groin, leaving kisses and a wet trail of saliva leading down to the base of his cock. 

He enveloped the tip with his lips, sucking lightly as he slid down to engulf more of it inside his mouth and swirled his tongue around the length. Venti latched on the grass beside him, biting down on his lower lip to muffle his moans. 

His back arched as Zhongli’s head slid up and down, lips closing in to drive him even crazier. Centuries of companionship inevitably came with a well-rounded understanding of each other’s desires and weaknesses. 

Venti was writhing and whimpering, his toes curled up as Zhongli spread his legs even further and slipped one finger inside. He gasped at the intrusion yet soon enough, melted into it blissfully.

As his moans grew needy Zhongli added another finger, making sure to stretch him out thoroughly. Venti was twitching in his mouth, drawing near while his hips contracted impatiently. 

After a few more flicks of Zhongli's wrist and tongue, he felt Venti release in his mouth with a whimper, holding onto his hair and pushing his head down. 

Zhongli obliged, squeezing his tip on the back of his throat as warm liquid spilled down. He retracted his fingers and pulled away to find Venti as breathy as he was. He positioned himself on top, freeing the bard’s hair from the braids as the black and turquoise strands scattered over the grass. 

Zhongli caressed his face, leaving soothing kisses along his forehead and cheeks while he lined up with Venti’s entrance.

Venti reached down, wrapping his slender fingers around Zhongli to gently guide him in. After he was almost halfway in, he pulled his hand away, instead wrapping both of his arms around Zhongli and gazing into his glowing pupils. 

“Are you in pain?” he asked with a concerned tone.

Venti smiled, “I’ve never felt better.” 

He meant it. 

Zhongli hummed, he thrusted with his hips until he was all the way in, brushing against Venti’s prostate. The movement elicited a desperate shriek from the bard. He craved more, more of Zhongli, all of him. And who was he to refuse the request? 

He held Venti close, thrusting in and out as he drew a slight curve with his hips to push into the sensitive bundle of nerves deep within him. 

Venti’s eyes widened with every round, moaning and grunting into Zhongli’s mouth as he whispered sweet, loving words of praise. Venti was used to being bashed and thrown around ever since he had retired, it had been a long time since someone had called him precious, his beloved , his dear.

Zhongli spoke to him with lust in his eyes and love in his voice. 

His movements became shaky, thrusts turning sloppy as his legs began to tremble. Venti had noticed it as well, he closed his legs slightly, squeezing Zhongli even tighter than before as he groaned in a state of absolute euphoria.

He pulled Venti even closer to his chest, holding the back of his head to ease the impact as the moans that vibrated through his chest mixed in with his fast-paced heartbeat in Venti’s ear. Even as a bard that had dedicated his life to wine and song, it was a prettier melody and a sweeter taste unlike anything he had experienced before, neither as a god nor as a mortal. 

Zhongli filled his insides graciously, liquid seeping out to the ground below them as they stayed in the warm embrace. 

Was it the bittersweet end of a love story, or the beginning of a new one, Venti couldn’t help but wonder as he whispered in Zhongli’s ear,

“Morax…"

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #zhongven #genshin zhongli #genshin venti #zhongli x venti #mlm #mlm smut

[snowywanderer]

The Meaning of Flowers

Words: 957

Warnings: eye contact

Description: On a fateful day, you see a view on Starsnatch Cliff that easily beats what you’ve seen previously. You can’t help your desire to talk to the stranger.

—

The view at Starsnatch Cliff is a well-loved one, especially by you. You try to find time at least once a month to dance among the cecilias, before heading to the highest point and staring out at the ocean. You swear sometimes you see islands in the distance, though people look at you weird if you bring it up. They aren’t on a map, after all.

Today, you think you’ve found a view even more beautiful than usual.

If you come early enough in the morning, you don’t usually run into as many people. It’s certainly odd that a man, gorgeous at the dawn sky, stands at the edge of the cliff.

He’s turned away somewhat, but what you can see of his features look beautiful. His forehead is wrinkled as he glared out towards the horizon, yet he still looks breathtaking. It strikes you as odd clothes on his back look Inazuman, though you suppose with the lifting of the Sakoku Decree more visitors from the nation have come to Mondstadt.

“Hello!” You call cheerfully.

He turns quickly, eyes wide. Shock quickly turns to annoyance.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you say, walking towards him. “I just don’t tend to see people here this early.”

“You didn’t scare me,” he lies, but you won’t call him on it. “Are you a Knight, or are all Mondstadters required to greet foreigners so enthusiastically?”

“Not at all,” you laugh. “Like I said, people don’t tend to come here at this time. I was just curious.”

He doesn’t respond.

“The cecilias look best this time of year. I don’t blame you if you want to see them without dealing with others.” Realization strikes you. “Oh, I can leave you alone if you want.”

“You sure like to talk, don’t you?” Despite his tone, the stranger’s feet are planted firmly. He doesn’t shoo you away either.

“I can talk more, if you want.” He cracks a smile for a second, and you decide to push further. “Cecilias, in the language of flowers, represent a wish to free someone of their current situation. You might give them to someone who feels trapped by work to wish they could get days off or something.

“Oh! And did you know cecilias are said to be favored by Barbatos? At least, that’s what I heard from a bard back in the city. Actually,” you add thoughtfully, “he might have just made it up seeing as he’s written songs the Sisters consider blasphemous.”

“Blasphemous?” You might be imagining, but he seems to have perked up a bit.

“He sang once of Barbatos pranking the Geo Archon with false love confessions, sending letters weekly for months, complete with flowers. Oh, and he once challenged the Electro Archon to a duel, knowing she was far more powerful than he. He, of course, failed to show up.”

The man finally cracks and laughs, loud and harsh like he isn’t used to feeling genuine mirth. His eyes shine brightly. “I like that second one.”

You suppose, noting the ornament in his chest, it isn’t odd for an Inazuman with a Vision to have some resentment for the Raiden Shogun. “You know, he had an Anemo Vision too.”

“I think I’d like to meet this guy,” he says, the last of his laughter fading. “You know, back to cecilias, we have some odd flowers back in Sumeru.”

“Oh?” His Vision’s casing, you now notice, is shaped like those of Sumeru, in contrast with his clothing.

“Kalpalata lotuses aren’t actually lotuses, as they grow on the side of cliffs rather than the water. Sumeru roses also aren’t true roses. I don’t personally like the idea of a name that lies.”

“Do you like flowers, then?”

“I don’t particularly care for them.” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

In that case… you have a terrible idea.

“Actually, I’ve read about them in books before. Kalpalata lotuses you give to people who need to be reminded of their own mortality, and Sumeru roses are given as a suggestion to someone they ought to break up with their romantic partner.”

He covers his mouth and breathes shakily. “Is that so?”

“Not at all. I just made that up.”

Despite him trying to remain cool, he cracks again. You can’t help but grin in return.

“Why did you actually come here?”

“I’m just a wanderer. I heard the view here’s nice.”

“And is it?”

He meets your eyes for a moment, then turns away, hiding his features with his hat. “I suppose it was worth it coming here in the end.”

“The sun’s more visible now,” you point at the ocean. “You might want to head off if you don’t want to run into anyone else.”

His troubled expression from before returns.

You reach down and pick up a cecilia before offering it to him. “For you. I’m not sure if you need freedom from anything, but perhaps the good will will carry on until you need it.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, avoiding your gaze yet again.

You smile in response, and head off.

—

It’s merely been a few hours since your encounter, and it still weighs upon your mind. You can’t help but want to know more about that man, and wonder if you shouldn’t have asked his name.

You’re taking a walk near the southernmost fountain when something makes you stop dead in your tracks. It’s the man from earlier, and he’s playing with some of the kids. They certainly seem happy, and you think he must be too.

You lose your balance for just a moment, but it’s enough that you step wrong and several heads turn towards you. The tallest of the group has a recognizable flower in his hair.

#snowy writes #genshin impact #gi wanderer #gi scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #he’s possibly ooc sorry #I like to think I’m funny though #usually I’m kinda iffy on my works but I do really like this one

[sage-nebula]

💫✨ people I’d like to get to know better ✨💫

thanks for the tag @caffernnn !!

last song i listened to: So I'm actually going to plug three songs that I've been absolutely obsessed with over the past weekend and have been listening on repeat as a result, all by the same artist -- Lydia the Bard, over on YouTube.

Lydia makes villain songs for the Disney princesses (among other Disney female characters). Her first handful were just lower pitched versions of their songs (or songs from their movies), but as she progressed she started changing lyrics, and now she's really grown and is making the songs more and more unique, culminating in finally creating a wholly unique villain song for Tinkerbell, which just came out and is my favorite.

"Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall" recontextualizes Tinkerbell's animosity toward Wendy. In this version, Tinkerbell and the other fairies of Pixie Hollow brought Peter Pan and the other Lost Boys there because, due to the nature of fairies' existence depending on humans believing in them, fairies were dying all around them as humans grew up and stopped believing. So the only way to secure their own lives was to make sure their humans never grew up. But Wendy threatens that by making Peter and the others long for human lives. Therefore, Tinkerbell sees her as a threat who must be taken out to save her own and her friends' lives. Not only does this song make Tinkerbell a far more compelling character, but the vocal performance is stunning, and the animatic that goes with it is amazing as well. Literally obsessed.

The other two I'm obsessed with are Meg's (where Hercules betrayed her as well & she kills Hades & takes his power) and Isabela's (where Mirabel doesn't get to her in time, and her resentment over the arranged marriage drives her to snap). Meg's is a bop and has a killer line in "In time they'll say I was cruel 'cause I cared", and I'm sorely tempted to use her final look at the end of the animatic as my Halloween costume this year. Meanwhile, Isabela's is also killer musically of course, and has equally fire lines like, "What could you possibly expect was gonna happen when you made me? / Tend to a plant with poison and expect a flower, are you crazy?" They're both just so good.

favorite color: Purple! Specifically cool shades, and especially cool shades that are more pastel, mixed with grey. I also like blues and greens that are faded like that, too.

currently watching: A little while ago I had started rewatching Sabrina the Teenage Witch since I hadn't watched it since middle school, but once I got to season four it got . . . bad . . . and it has continued to be bad . . . so I've kind of stopped watching lmao. I've lately been rewatching Jenny Nicholson's videos, but I finished that, so now I've gone back to rewatching Jenna Marbles videos. Oh, and I really love this series on YouTube called Bistro Huddy! It's hilarious, and Drew (the guy who portrays all the characters) is fantastic, he really melts into the roles so you almost forget it's one guy doing all of them. Highly recommend checking it out.

spicy/savory/sweet: Honestly depends on my mood, but I do have a strong sweet tooth, so honestly it's hard to go wrong by offering me ice cream or a cookie or something similar.

relationship status: Currently dating the lovely @skimmingthesurfaces 💜 She's actually going to be here this weekend for my birthday! (My birthday is on Tuesday, so I'm very blessed to have her with me for the whole weekend.)

current obsession(s): Aside from the songs mentioned above, I've been really thinking about one OC in particular of mine, and her story / novel . . . she's a character that I first created when I was about 13 or so, and has gone through a lot of development since then, but I've been fleshing out a lot more of her story and how she fits into this new original world I've created (since she was originally created for a Legend of Zelda role play, albeit even back then she came from a country outside of Hyrule). I really love and cherish her a lot, even though most other characters think she fulfills the "girl who is stupid" role in the adventuring party, and on some level she also believes this about herself, and to be fair she's not academically gifted at all, but to be even more fair the school and in fact overall society she was raised in was extraordinarily fucked up and no one actually tried to teach her in a way that would help her learn and in fact learning disabilities were seen as personal failings and --

Ahem. Anyway. I have long since described her as "pure of heart, dumb of ass," and in many ways she is, but for the second half, she's not in the way most everyone around her growing up assumed she was (including herself), or like, even if she is it wasn't 100% her fault (like yeah she slept in class and that was on her, but also she wasn't going to learn whether she was awake or not because her teachers were not going to be able to teach her the material because it was a One Size Fits All approach to teaching even when it really wasn't -- and that's only scratching the surface of the problems in her school / culture, it's a huge systemic thing). But yeah I've just been thinking about her a lot. Karin's my girl and I love her lots.

#the real way in which she's dumb of ass is that one tiktok that's like #''fool me once? shame on you. fool me twice? what the heck that's so mean. fool me THREE times? ohhh my god . . . fool me FOUR--'' #she has the worst judge of character #i mean to be absolutely fair to her she will remember that someone betrayed her trust. but will she give them another chance? yeah probably #her justification is she is watching them VERY HARD OK #(she's watching them fool her AGAIN tho . . . smh) #anyway thanks again for the tag!!!!! #caffernnn

[tiredassmage]

SWOOPS IN

Tav Questions for Leo: 3, 4, 8, 9, 11, 21 and 22

GIGGLES! I knew you'd be at it! I'm still not too far into his run, so I had to let these marinate a little and get a bit further along in Act I to get a bit more data.

[30 Questions for Your Tav!]

3. Did your Tav receive any formal or informal education? If yes, how well did they learn? If no, why not?

So far I’m thinking to still diagnose him with unloved by rich parents syndrome, as per the textposts pile, lol, so, yes, I imagine Leo experienced some level of formal education; the family is well-known enough for their business endeavors in Baldur’s Gate, but probably less recognized than his father’s puffed chest might long to suggest and maintain. I think Leo’s a bit of a fan of stories as escapism in that sense; I’m playing him on College of Valor Bard, but his “education” in that regard is more likely to have come from tavern tales at the Blushing Mermaid and escapades to Sharess’s Caress. The other class I had briefly entertained was Wizard, so perhaps that’s where his family would’ve preferred he spent his time honing more of his talents versus where he really ended up. I think he likely finished most of his basic education with tutors and whatnot in the city before one of many, many arguments about Leo’s life choices finally saw him run out and fall in with less scrupulous crowds.

His martial training then is almost entirely informal - picked up from tavern brawls, pirates, and smugglers that became more and more of his common company in more recent years, until finally they became about his only primary company once he left his family. He knows enough to read and write well, and he’s absorbed some measure of history, but he wouldn’t self-describe as well-read and he’ll leave investigating every dusty tome in abandoned cathedrals and dilapidated towns to Gale’s ambitious nose. Ultimately, I think I’d call him a bit more street-wise than book-smart, but I also wouldn’t want to oversell either, exactly. The many fights at home make him a bit easily irritable at times and patience isn’t a particularly strong virtue of his. More than anything, he’d probably best be described as of a college of fucking around and finding out, frankly.

4. What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests?

Leo enjoys a game of cards and oral storytelling, though the latter might be something of a given with his class, lol. A lively tavern scene in the evening was a place to explore expression and live more out-of-bounds and it’s informed a lot of what Leo is currently. The art of the improvised, cutting insult was almost as good a defense as a sharpened dagger when he first started to jab elbows and shoulders with the kind in the Lower City those of the Upper would generally rather pretend don’t exist. Huddled around tavern bards, he’d hear colorful tales of adventure and exploration that planted the idea with him that it might be an alternative to the suffocating demands of power and prestige in the city.

8. Did your Tav have any romantic and/or sexual relationships prior to their Illithid adventure? If yes, who was it with and what was it like? If no, how do they feel about being single?

I’m still kind of hammering out the details and the whens, the hows, the whos, etc. of exactly what life was like for Leo before the mindflayers came and turned everything upside down, but the short answer is yes. One of Leo’s later frequent locations before a plan to leave Baldur’s Gate entirely started to take any sort of shape was Sharess’s Caress. Lured by not exactly the most honest crowd to such locales, Leo found sharing company in the arms of another man far more preferable to gritted teeth pleasantries with fair maidens at noble gatherings - something he’d generally have preferred to keep perhaps a bit more under lock and key. Not all of those experiences were exactly positive in that regard, and they play a hand in the kind of crowd he hung out with when he finally abandoned (or was run out of, depending on who you ask) Upper City living - smugglers, thieves, pirates - the likes of which taught him how to bargain and the power of a manipulative word perhaps better than any tutoring on dinner table manners and politics ever had.

One may have been the exception to Leo’s generally… questionable choice of company, however - a fellow bard with bright green eyes and hair the shade of a vibrant sunset over the docks. His chiding on Leo’s typical choice of company was usually accompanied with a kiss… or a handful of them. And worried eyes would often linger around the edges of the tavern songs they learned together. Neither of them were sure where they would go if they left, but… maybe… if they did…

Unfortunately, life isn’t exactly like the fairy tales, is it?

9. What was your Tav doing when they were taken by the mindflayers?

Trying to survive, as the short answer. While Leo wouldn’t exactly claim he’s a gifted liar or even a performer (generally), if nothing else, he’s got an odd brand of luck, maybe. A roundabout talking in and out of situations that came in handy and was honed when he found himself keeping the company of smugglers to have place to put his head down at night, shorn of the noble trappings that had initially raised him (or claimed it, at any rate). With the failed idealization of disappearing into the wilds of the realm still bitter and aching on his lips, Leo’s nothing if not a creature of habit. There was a lot about his life aiding smugglers (and possibly dubiously owing some connection to the Zhentarim about it) that wasn’t exactly not broken, but it was… working. Sort of. For the moment. It was a hell of a more appealing option than trying to crawl home and grovel for some biting form of ‘forgiveness’ for spurning the rest of his family, at the absolute least. At least he knew where he stood when someone put a dagger to his throat, eh?

11. What would your Tav consider to be their greatest flaw? Is this accurate?

Leo’s list of personal accusations is… fairly extensive. Unreliable of judgement, more coward than could be respectable, at the very least selfishly interested in keeping his own life. He’s a far harsher critic than need be, but there’s… a kernel of truth to his penchant for making ill-advised decisions. He could benefit a lot from giving himself a bit more grace that a lot of his more “questionable” decisions are motivated out of some flavor of fear (and who wouldn’t be overwhelmed when faced with a mindflayer invasion and a growing cult to some new god you’ve never heard of [no, he didn’t pay that great of attention to his history lessons, but how much does that really matter right now?!]). His biggest trouble maker is generally the whole package of misconstrued flaws and blame; Leo’s lack of… confidence? kindness? For himself usually leads him deeper into a cycle of acting in ways that fit the narrative of selfish, skittish, short of patience, and whichever other unflattering monikers he deems fit for the day than allowing him some space to recognize such fears and needs for a place to belong or fit in root from a not particularly supportive youth spent failing to meet lofty and often cutting expectations, mostly set by his father.

21. How does your Tav feel about love?

A darling subject for songs. Everyone loves a good ballad. He’d rather down several pints of questionable and not even particularly good ale than wrangle with the feeling in his chest that spawns from hearing the word and the memories it sparks of that other bard he spent a not insignificant amount of time learning from and spending time with. It’s nice. And it’s sweet - so he hears. It seems tempting to give a lot to enjoy the feeling of someone else’s hand nestled perfectly in one of yours, or to lose track of hours in an evening simply because you’re lost in the stars of their eyes…

What? No, he’s not wistful or hurting or missing anyone in particular. Shut up. How could you? He’s a bard, flowery words for all of this is just what he’s supposed to be good at!

(He’d… love it, to be ungraceful.) To be ungraceful but accepted with another.

He wants it. He tells himself he’ll settle for the mere physical sensations of closeness to another.

Nothing else has ever worked out to plan for him, after all. Might as well let others name the role for him and merely fill it. Maybe he isn’t the smoothest, most charismatic liar or charmer you’ve ever met, but he’s a performer by trade, right? At least he might be good for something, then.

22. Has your Tav become particularly close to anyone romantically and/or platonically in their journey? If so, who, and what is the relationship like? If no, why not?

Well, I’ll say I ruined my sleep schedule to finish the goblin camp last night and Leo’s love life in this party is frankly a fucking mess, which is just about what I expected, knowing him kafnalds;flsdf. I don’t think he knows what he wants yet.

Wyll’s charming - far more a righteous heart than Leo could ever see himself being. He is a darling hero. Those always make for charming songs. He’s sweet. Good. The kind word Leo can’t help but crave to hear. But maybe too good for him. It seems he’s got quite enough going on without adding… whatever… [vague gesturing] Leo’s got going on. The reasonable one, maybe. The type that would be in the thick of goblins and monsters and cultists and trying to save the world. Leo would be lying (and probably poorly, if the blush is to say anything) if he tried to claim he wasn’t interested in seeing the Blade’s dance or sharing a drink sometime. And maybe he’s a little curious what it’d be like to kiss those scars and ridges. Tempting…

Karlach and him need to be friends, I think. Absolutely wonderful, disastrous (positive) friends. Karlach’s just a powerhouse of energy for life - with a heart of adventure, a mouth just as good at ass-kicking as her strength of arms, and really just an all-around kind of alive and kicking that might just be as contagious or more than the heat of her engine. If she wouldn’t entirely singe him, she could absolutely pick Leo clean up off the ground and spin him around. I quite think she will, assuming they can make sure he wouldn’t roast in the process. To give him the opportunity to know what it’s like to be tall, y’know! Friends in hijinks energy.

And I think… Astarion might have his fangs in a bit more than his neck, for better or worse. Part of me wants to say of course you would, Leo. Because… of course he would. I’m not sure it’s genuinely affection and charm just yet - and Leo’s not exactly fully aware of the full scope of scheming it could be, exactly. He’s probably just aware enough that it could be little more than convenience and some sort of play at power or… some such, but he doesn’t particularly… care. At the moment. If it is just that. Which I’d say has the potential to backfire on both of them and accidentally get feelings in the mix if they keep going like this. Leo had sort of resigned himself to the physical nature of it, but there’s an undeniable charm to being called darling that Leo might… just forget to keep his head on straight [as if anything about him is] about.

And I’m… wondering how him and Gale are going to get along in the long run. Something about ambition between the two of them might end up scratching my brain, but it’s a bit too early for me to tell just where they’re going. Given Leo’s absolutely haphazard sense of direction though, that little bit of magic shared one night might’ve left Leo blushing and both of them stumbling a bit for more eloquent speech. We’ll just have to stay tuned for this one.

#answered #dot talk #dot's bg3 tag #bg3 tav #vs: the only things the foolish need are a suitcase and a trunk | bg!leo

[wrongdodo]

A Lesson in Alchemy

Pairing: Geralt x Fem Reader

Summary: You’ve never been a good alchemist, so it’s not surprising when your latest experimental potion leaves some… unexpected effects on your body. When the Witcher finds out about your predicament, how will he treat you? And will he agree to help?

Warnings: lactation, breast sucking, spanking, grinding, filth

Word count: 3.4k

Special shout-out to fantasy name generator for fictional plant names

Authors note: I’m really happy with how this turned out. I dared to have more fun with the plot, and I think the story flows much better. Lots of dialogue, which was fun to do. I shortened my paragraphs a bit, I feel like it suits tumblr better. I made peace with longer sentences too, so I hope everything reads okay. Please let me know what you think, I’d die for feedback.

18+ only beyond this point…

When Geralt finally returns, you can actually hear the sigh of relief that leaves your body.

He’s often gone, slaying beasts and earning coin; such is the life of a supernaturally enhanced monster hunter. You thought coped better than this - but after over a week of waiting, you’ve become startlingly aware just how difficult his absence has been on you this time. Although, in fairness, there’s a pretty good reason for that.

It’s late when the Witcher and the Bard enter the keep– the sky outside is pitch dark, but despite the late hour, the atmosphere of Kaer Morhen instantly picks up. It even begins to feel merry.

Jaskier stumbles in first, calling out and plainly in high spirits. The musician is plastered, and clearly has every intention of continuing to drink well into the early hours of the morning. A bottle of Toussant Red is gripped in his hand as he makes his way over to a table; launching joyously into some sort of story that you have little time for. Youare much more interested in Geralt.

Anyone that knew the Witcher well would be able to sense his agreeable mood. Not even Jaskier’s behaviour seems to bother him. As the Bard begins topping up Lambert’s mead with red wine, you swear you see the warrior actually smile at his antics - and with something almost akin to fondness.

You suppose they’ve both indulged in a little wine during the long journey home. Whatever their recent business, it must have paid well. You’re pleased – the cheerier the Witcher’s disposition, the easier things might be for you. What you must admit to the White Wolf is not going to be easy to say.

Tired and dirty from the road, Geralt makes the familiar journey to his room – and you follow, hearing the Bard warbling as you leave. When you catch up to the warrior’s strides, there’s just enough time to slip into the chamber before the door shuts firmly. You turn and see him, his shirt already off and balled in his large hands. If he’s pleased to see you, he doesn’t show it.

“I need to bathe. Can it wait?”

Geralt grabs a washcloth - he’s not even looking at you as he draws it over his face, then under each arm, stopping to rinse the rag into a dish of water. His tied-back hair is still streaked with a little blood; pinkish in the low light. Your arms cross hotly over your chest, making your discomfort plain. It really can’t wait, you think with frustration. So, you tell him bluntly.

“It really can’t wait.”

Your words come with a startling conviction that manages to take you both by surprise. You have Geralt’s attention now, and he turns to look at you – nostrils flaring as he takes you in with every sense.

“You smell different.”

“Is it obvious?” you hug yourself doggedly - really not in the mood to be studied.

“It is to me.”

You sigh, noticing your own gritted teeth and reminding yourself how much you trust this man. The thoughts give you little courage, and there’s another graceless, awkward moment before you’re able to blurt out exactly what you came to say.

“Geralt… I need your help. I think I really messed up.”

His head is tilted now, sternly willing you to go on. You continue.

“While you were gone, I was… experimenting. With herbs.” You suck in a quick breath. “I made a potion, but… something’s gone wrong. I don’t know if I mixed it improperly, or what…” Your words tumble forth - like a runaway apple cart, it’s a battle to keep yourself on track. When you eventually meet his eyes again, he’s clearly bewildered.

“I think it’s easier if I just show you” you admit.

You undo the strappings of your leather overshirt, dropping it to the dusty floor and standing expectantly before him. The blouse beneath stretches thinly over your chest, revealing your body clearly and leaving very little to the Witcher’s imagination. Moisture clings to the fabric over each nipple, darkening the white-ish cotton. It’s not long before he says something, but it feels minutes, squirming under his watch.

“So this potion…” he approaches, boots thudding heavily on the floor. “You… rubbed it over your tits?” a wry smirk. He’s definitely a little drunk- that’s when his dry humour truly becomes unleashed. You, however, are not in the mood for games.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

His amber-yellow stare is fixed on you now, but it feels impossible for you to meet it. He’s close enough to touch, height easily looming above your smaller frame. You notice his arms, still streaked with dirt; a recent wound beginning to heal across his chest. He smells more than a little ripe.

Slowly, Geralt reaches out large hands to cup your breasts through your shirt - his curiosity piqued as he gently rolls them in his palms. His fingers find the outline of your hard nipples. When he pinches them, the fabric darkens, and a hot moan escapes your parted lips.

You mumble shyly. “That keeps happening…”

“Hmm. Explains your scent.” You can’t tell if he’s more fascinated or darkly amused. He feels the weight of each breast with interest, easily discerning that they’re a fair bit bigger than usual.

A playful smile – quite subtle and even more rare – touches his lips, and you know you’re in for more of his teasing.

“Let’s ask the Bard,” he decides.

“Absolutely not.” You hardly have to imagine what Jaskier’s foolish reaction would be. No, you don’t want to involve more people in this mess than you absolutely have to.

Geralt’s eyes flicker with amusement at your protests. He tugs experimentally at your nipples again, drawing forth another moan - and a little more fluid.

“Maybe we should lay you out on the breakfast table tomorrow morning. The Cow of Kaer Morhen...”

You can’t stop the roll of your eyes, your thin patience diminishing even further. Although you’d often found yourself wishing that the Witcher would be more talkative, right now you wished he’d shut up. His comment has made you a little nervous… but you’re fairly sure he’s not serious.

He continues to probe. “Has anyone noticed?”

You don’t think so. You shake your head in earnest.

“How long?” he asks, continuing to run his hands over your aching chest.

“About 3 days”

Geralt lets out a huff, and it’s just short of a laugh.

“They’ve noticed. They’re witchers.” He scoffs. “It took me seconds.”

If you weren’t already embarrassed enough, that particular revelation does nothing to help. A warm flush spreads across on your cheeks and neck.

“Are they sensitive?” At last, his voice indicates a welcome hint of concern.

“Incredibly.”

“Here?”

Your breath catches as he rubs both nipples with the back of each large hand. You nod, but in truth you’re afraid to tell him that you’re sensitive everywhere.

After completing his thorough, if not gentle, assessment, the Witcher steps back and folds strong arms over his barrel-like chest. You find yourself anticipating his evaluation eagerly. His enormous shoulders lift into a shrug.

“I can’t help until I punish you.”

Gods, he’s unbelievable sometimes.

“I hardly think that’s fair!” you oppose.

“You need to learn a lesson. Can’t have you endangering yourself.” His remark might have seemed oddly caring in any other scenario. Right now, it’s just damn annoying. A slight tilt of his head directs your eyes to the bed. “You know the rules.”

You pause, dumbfounded. You’re not sure what you expected, but punishment hadn’t been remotely on your mind. With a bothered sigh, you decide that there’s nothing else to do but lay on the bed. You let out grumpy huff, not really caring if he notices. Deftly, he gathers your wrists behind your back in one large hand. In your prone position, your belly is poked by the straw of his mattress. You can’t see him now – but it’s easy to feel his heat, his presence.

“This potion. How many plants did you use?” his inquiry comes as his other hand lazily traces over your buttocks through your linen trousers. You’re annoyed to discover that you don’t hate the feeling.

“I don’t know. 8, maybe 10?”

“Hm. Call it 10.”

The first smack lands hard, stinging your arse through thin clothing. It’s suddenness tugs a ragged gasp from your throat. There’s another. And another. You begrudgingly realise he intends to give you ten. How terribly clever.

Between Geralt’s blows, his palms running across the hot, stinging surface of your buttocks, over your clothing. You’re sure your arse must be quite red, and practically glowing through the loose weave of your trousers. At the forefront of your mind, you try to keep count, but it’s difficult to focus.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

The tenth comes briskly, landing over your aching pussy and producing a yelp. You’re positively wet, and he can definitely feel it. You’re probably soaking through the thin material between your legs. Gods, his hands are big. That man could pull you apart like hot, fresh bread if he wanted to. The thought gives you a little shiver. Even when he’s dirty and grimy from a long journey, the Witcher turns you on – maybe even more so when he’s a little grubby.

You take his punishment, as you have often done before. When he’s done, you feel your hands released, and weight shifts in the mattress as he sits up. Rubbing your wrists, you see him tap his lap expectantly.

Finally, he seems like he might be interested in helping.

Your movements are unsteady as you move over to the Witcher - you straddle his lap, putting you both face-to-face. He plants a rough kiss on your neck, inviting a murmur of delight. Strong arms wrap around your middle – something about those arms send you feral. It’s easy to feel the hardness of his cock through his leather trousers, and as the heat of the situation unfolds, you really can’t blame him for being so turned on. He can certainly smell your arousal.

Geralt doesn’t ask before moving his hands to hastily unfasten your blouse, and the clumsy, sudden manoeuvre takes you a little by surprise. If he notices any hesitation on your part, it doesn’t stop him. You wrap a sheepish hand around one of his. He growls with frustration against your skin, battling the fabric, and when his rough kiss meets your lips, he tastes a little like wine.

“Do you want me to…?”

Geralt huffs in reply. His hands pull at your blouse in exasperation. “I need to see what I’m working with.”

Grasping the sides of your top, he roughly tugs it apart with a sour ripping sound. When you yip in surprise, he doesn’t slow down – his hands waste no time finding your bare, heaving chest

Your skin feels hot – everything feels hot. Your head rolls back slightly as you give in to his touch, feeling sword-calloused hands smooth themselves over each aching breast. When you’re able to take note of his expression, it’s almost concerned.

“They’re hot. Any rash?”

You shake your head no, and wince as his fingers thrum over your hard nipples. Geralt’s eyes flash with fresh worry.

“They’re hurting you.”

“Not really,” your breath catches in your throat. You’re surprised by the husky quality of your own voice. “They’re just… fucking sensitive.”

“What exactly were you trying to do?”

You immediately choose to ignore his question – but it might have been easy to miss. The sensation of his hands running over your body is completely filling your mind to the brim.

“What potion were you trying to make?” he’s more urgent now. Geralt doesn’t like to repeat himself. It’s almost as though he’s taking your problem more seriously.

“I’d really… rather not say.”

A short growl. You’ve heard that sound before - it’s his irritated acceptance. Geralt carefully lifts each heavy breast in his hands, rolling them, sensing their weight like a miller appraising two bags of flour.

“What did you use?”

You’re not used to him being so talkative while he touches you like this, and it’s incredibly hard to focus as he handles your tits in his enormous hands. The hardness of his cock beneath you is very apparent. But you know better than to ignore the urgency in his voice. You screw your eyes closed and try to focus on his questions. It’s difficult.

“Lots of things. I used… little white flowers. Bryonia, I think.”

“Do you mean cajeora?” he responds. His hands don’t stop. You shake your head, and the gesture comes across a little frantic.

“No. Not that small.” He’s taught you a little about the plants that grow in the woodlands around Kaer Morhen… but any knowledge you had seems impossible to recall right now.

“What else?”

“Opporic leaves. And something purple.” You gasp as his fingers lightly graze the smooth sides of your tits. You blurt out - “Knot bloom.”

From the subtle grunts and growls he responds with, it’s easy to tell the Witcher is listening. He’s considering the facts, working things out.

“Honeysuckle?” he asks abruptly.

You eye him in annoyance. “Is that a joke?”

Geralt’s smile is easy. You wonder if he’ll ever tire of teasing you. Though maybe you could admit temper is shortened under the pressure. Emotionally, you’re as sensitive as your body is physically.

You can’t stop your hips when they wiggle a little on his lap. “I used a plant with red petals” you finally mumble, imploring yourself to remember.

“Beggartick?” his voice is suddenly less gentle now. “You shouldn’t-“

“No, it wasn’t that… I don’t think… Ah, I don’t know.”

He’s teasing your nipples with his thumbs again and you’re so fucking wet. It’s hard to focus. Gently, he tilts your chin and you’re comforted by the safety of his eyes. His voice is a gruff rumble.

“Think.”

You whine and squirm, truly grasping to remember the facts for him. Deep breath. “It wasn’t beggartick. But it sounds like it. Be-“

“Becuger leaves.” Wow, that’s the one. How could he know that? Even now, you’re warmly reminded of his impressive knowledge. The thought relaxes you a little. You’re so pleased that you trusted him with this. You’d trust him with your life, and often had.

Trying to keep your breathing steady, you do your best to answer each of Geralt’s questions. You tell him about the monk’s root. You tell him about the blood nettle – fresh, not dried. And for a moment you’re surprised at your own knowledge too. Time spent with the Witcher really has taught you a lot.

Something about his soothing concern has you softening. You have to admit that your resolve is a little weak… days of stress and worry have taken a toll on your mind. But even knowing this, you’re surprised to find tears begin brim against your eyes. When one rolls down your cheek, he takes notice and looks up at you. You inhale a deep, shuddering breath.

“Spare me the jokes now. Am I to stay like this forever?”

Geralt’s smile is almost warm in the low light of the room. “I do have some ideas.”

“Then tell me.”

“Well… I could take you to the nearest healer tomorrow… but Roach needs rest.” You nod with grave understanding. He continues.

“Yennefer is a skilled herbali-“

“No. Not her.” You don’t doubt that Yennefer would fucking love to lord this over you.

“That leaves one option.” he says. His tone is decisive.

“Fine, do what you must.”

He smiles. “Don’t be worried. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

When his lips finally meet your breast, you shudder in response – a weary, exquisite sigh floating from your open lips. Your sensitive flesh connects with his gentle, searching tongue gratefully – your back arches naturally, pressing yourself against him. When he begins to suck softly, the Witcher is pleased to find you taste as good as you smell. Little jolts flutter through you and bloom in your chest, just behind his soft mouth.

The Witcher’s arms feel protective, surrounding you, and he too feels your stress begin to melt away. Your own limbs find his broad shoulders, locating the back of his neck and willing him closer – tighter against you. As you grind against his hardness, you hear yourself mewl with sensation.

It’s not unexpected when your climax takes no time at all, and leaves your eyes glazed and watery with emotion. Your linen trousers are soaked now, and even you can smell the arousal between your thighs. You can’t stop a gasp of loss as he releases your wet nipple from chapped lips. He eyes you wryly.

“What? I told you I’m sensitive…” you answer through panted breath.

Geralt smiles as he covers your other nipple in his greedy lips. Your hands are draped around his strong neck, fingers creeping and tugging into his dirty white hair. He loves the way your body jerks – how it grinds and lolls against him like a rag doll. You feel your clit rubbing the hard cock inside his leather trousers, and allow it. The sensation is dizzying.

You’re completely pliant in his arms. Hands wrap around the soft flesh of your waist, pulling you hungrily down against to knead against his wanting cock. Now you pant as your joint pace quickens. It’s apparent that your second orgasm will crash at any moment.

Releasing you from his mouth, his lips find your outstretched neck as your head rolls easily back. He kisses, but when he nips there, you moan - the pleasure-pain tipping you over as you slither in his lap. The sound of Geralt’s own orgasm is stifled against you, groaning as he bites gently at your flesh. In your crazed stupor, you think that it’s probably a good thing that he hadn’t bathed yet.

Your eyes close into a secure feeling of bliss. It’s only apparent that he’s recovered from his own torpor when he kisses your cheek. You now realise how tightly you’re gripping his hair, so you release it gingerly from your delicate fingers.

“Better?” he asks.

You nod, lacking any words, just for the moment. You did feel better. Much better, in fact. It could be the final flutters of orgasm, but you felt.. unburdened. Dazed, you slide off his lap and collect your leather overshirt from the floor. The Witcher lies back, stretching languidly over the bed.

“Occlamom tea. It’ll help.” comes his gruff voice - delivered quite curtly.

Your mouth gapes now, eyes wide in disbelief. An antidote? He tells you this now?

“There’s some in the pantry.” He rolls over, meeting your eyes with a smirk that borders-on mischievous

Unbelievable.

“You… you absolute bastard.” you eventually manage to stammer – but even as you spit the words, you feel they’re completely unsatisfactory to convey your utter, utter irritation.

“You were stressed. I calmed you down.” Sitting up now, his amber-yellow eyes meet yours with a touch of amusement. “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

You hate that he’s completely right. The guilt and worry of the last few days had gone – you have to admit how much lighter everything feels. In that moment, you’re struck by how safe you feel in his presence. It’s nice to have him back here – even if he can be a bastard.

“For the occlamom tea, you need to boil water...”

Your sudden hissed response stops him quickly.

“I know how to make tea, Geralt.”

Fastening the straps of your leather overshirt, you tug so hotly they almost snap. As you turn to leave, it’s his strong hand on your shoulder that stops you all-but storming off. Geralt’s eyes look deeply into yours now, and you know that whatever he’s about to say, he truly means.

“Don’t play with alchemy again.” His body is so close, his breath on your neck. You can’t escape the slither of guilt you feel, fearing his disappointment. “Poison is not a good way to die.”

“Right. I promise.”

Daring to plant a sweet-tasting kiss on his lips, you turn and speak to him a final time before you leave.

“Now please, Geralt. Have that bath.”

#the witcher x reader #geralt x reader #witcher fandom #the witcher smut #geralt smut #the witcher

[quotemenevervore]

Oh @squishys-soft-stories :)

Content warnings: soft, safe g/t vore, character shrinking, fear and panic on multiple parties

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Karl was a potion maker. Sapnap would go as far as calling him a potion master, but he couldn’t officially call him that since he experiments with ingredients a lot. The potion higher ups probably didn’t like it very much, but both of them cared less. The ravenette thought it was amazing how skilled the other was at his work, the risks he took and the rewards he got in response. His handwriting was pretty, the potions didn’t explode on contact and the man himself was very kind.

Naturally, you couldn’t blame him for falling a little head over heels for the brunette. He jumped at every chance he could to spend time with him, whether it be for company or assistance. He’d call himself Karl’s apprentice if he didn’t already have one, an easy-going man who was formerly a bard from a different place. He knew Karl liked the company, and loved when Quackity was up to playing music. He also loved coming in and hearing the guitar playing softly, or walking in to see Karl preening the other’s wings, something he was hesitant to share with anyone. After all, his apprentice was a shifter, and they weren’t highly regarded around the village. They barely tolerated Karl for his potion making.

Which may have been what led them to their current predicament..

Quackity had shifted into his animal form, a duck, and was waddling around the house and quacking occasionally to keep Karl informed on his whereabouts. Sapnap had collected an armful of potions off of the brewing stand and the table, and was walking them over to the cabinet where the others were held when Quackity squawked loudly upon realizing Sapnap didn’t see him, trying to run out of the way and accidentally tripping the blackette.

The potions were all fine, not even a crack in the glass bottles, except for one. It slipped from his hand as he hit the ground hard, flinching when the glass shattered right beside where his knees were planted on the floor. “Shit!” “Sapnap!?” Karl rushed around the corner, freezing in place when he saw the particles swirling around the man. “Quackity, come over here.” He didn’t hide the panic in his voice, coming a few paces in front of the other so he could look at him. “Karl, what potion did I just drop!?” The brunette looked as scared as he felt, and it didn’t help his worry in the slightest.

“It was an experimental one, I don’t know what the effects are gonna be.” Quackity turned back to his human form, concern and indecision flooding his features as his hand reached towards him, but retracted again. “I’m sorry Sapnap, I’m sorry-“ “It.. should be fine, right? I mean, I think I’d feel ill already if it was a bad potion..” he turned from the shifter to the brunette. “I hope so..” Karl’s tone was regretful, and he really wished he could reach over and pat his shoulder. “Hey, it’ll be fine! I’m sure you can find an antidote once we know what it does.”

…Huh. Was Karl always that taller than him sitting down?

Quackity caught on to it before Karl had, though the other had noticed a change. “Sap, were your clothes always so baggy on you?” Karl reeled back with a gasp. “Oh no. Oh no, I need- Quackity watch him.” He got up quickly, turning towards his room while Quackity kept an eye on him. “What?” “Sapnap, I think you might be shrinking.” At that, the blackette quickly set the surviving potions down and pushed them away from himself. “What are we gonna do?” The shifter shook his head. “I don’t know, Sap. I’m sure Karl has a plan, though.”

“You’re not gonna eat me once I’m small enough, right?” Well, if there was nothing to do, he at least wanted to be humorous about it. “Not promising anything.” The other replied with a smirk and a wink that had him almost doubled over laughing.

By the time Karl returned, Sapnap had shrunken to a third of his height and was still shrinking. He couldn’t hide his nervousness any longer, looking up at the brunette upon his arrival. “How.. long do you think it’ll take to make an antidote?” “I need to double check my list to see what I used to make the potion. From there it depends on how fast I can find the ingredient, but it shouldn’t be long. I, uh..” he trailed off, holding out an outfit that looked to be made for a doll.

“Your clothes aren’t shrinking with you for some reason, so I thought maybe you’d like something to put on.” And that was why he fell for the man to begin with. He didn’t deny that it’d be a while before he could fix it, but he was not only going to fix it but also make the other as comfortable as he can while he was stuck like this.

“Thanks, Karl.”

~ ~ ~

He finally stopped shrinking at around five inches. Quackity had shifted back to his duck form, playfully chasing him around for a bit before Karl made them stop. Instead, the duck picked up the back of his shirt in his beak and swung him around so he could sit on his back. Karl made them food and then went right back to searching for an antidote. After they tried to use milk to flush the effect off of him, of course.

Unfortunately, that made Sapnap the target for a lot of questions. Quackity helped him up to the table before sitting down beside him, letting the man lean against him without complaint. “What color were the particles?” “You saw them, Karl.” He chuckled at first, stopping when he saw the serious expression on his face. “It may seem dumb, but some potions can look different to the affected. I know the potion was teal, but what color were the particles?” Right, he’d forgotten that Karl takes his potion making very seriously. He just hadn’t been on this side of the interrogations.

“They were teal.” He nodded, marking it down in the book he wrote his results in. “Did you feel strange, or off in any way?” “I wouldn’t have even noticed it at first if Quackity hadn’t said anything.” His lips began to press in a line as he nodded again, marking the answer down. “Teal potion and particles, no status change other than the obvious of course,” he smiled, causing Sapnap to grin back at him. “And milk didn’t reverse it. Let’s see..” he flipped through the book’s previous pages, reading the notes he jotted down for the potions he’d made that day, narrowing it down between a couple before eliminating one by going and pouring a bit of the other teal potion out, finding vibrant green particles in its place.

“I never knew you put this much effort into your potion crafting.” Sapnap mused softly. “I have to, Sapnap. I’d feel awful if someone were to get hurt or worse because I didn’t figure out every little bit about it. Which, I’m sorry you’re the Guinea pig in this one..” he said sheepishly, making the blackette roll his eyes and the duck he laid against to let out a soft but indignant quack. “It was bound to happen eventually, Karl. I don’t mind. Besides, I think out of everyone I’d want you to be taking care of me if this hadn’t happened at your house. You obviously have the skills for it.” And you’re sweet, and funny, and cute-

Quackity had a strange, knowing look in his beady eyes, nudging him softly with his beak. The brunette hadn’t caught on to this silent conversation, cheeks tinged pink as he sat back down. “Well, thank you Sapnap. That means a lot to me, especially from you. You’re one of my closest friends.” The duck let out another indignant squawk, nudging the shrunken man off him so he could get up and jump off the table, waddling away with an annoyed aura to his movements. Both men just watched, almost dumbfounded at the sudden shift.

“What was that about?” “Quackity gets like that sometimes. I’ve never figured out why, but it’s usually after you visit me.” “Huh…” and for a moment, he wondered if maybe Quackity just pretended to like him, and didn't value their friendship in the same regard that Sapnap did. Maybe he was jealous that Sapnap wanted to spend time with his teacher. But he shut that line of thinking down. Quackity was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve and said what was on his mind. There was no way he was keeping a secret like that away from them both. He just needed to figure out what was going on with him.

“Alright, Sapnap. I know which potion it was, and I’ll go into town and see if they have the antidote ingredient.” “If?” Karl faltered, the optimism leaving his voice slightly. “It’s a rare item, and the villagers already don’t like that I make potions. I may have to send someone to the kingdom to get the ingredients for me..” “That’s okay! I don’t mind either way, I mean, we figured out one of your potion effects and you already know the antidote, that’s amazing. You did all of this in like, what? An hour?” Besides, if I get stuck here, I can spend more time with both of them. Maybe get to the bottom of Quackity’s strange behavior. “You’re always so nice to me, Sapnap. I appreciate it so much, you don’t even know half of it.” “I appreciate your company too, Karl.” He smiled genuinely at him.

Karl left not long after, writing the name of the ingredient down so he didn’t forget it. Not a minute passed when Karl left before Quackity returned, human form with crossed arms. He sat down at the table, resting his head on his arms and frowning at him. It was starting to wear on Sapnap, honestly. “..You change your mind about eating me?” He joked. “How come you won’t tell Karl how you feel about him? I assure you he feels the same way. He never shuts up about you, man.” The small man froze, not expecting to be called out so harshly. “..Uh, I dunno what you mean-“ “Bullshit. You literally praise his every move. I’ve been down that path before, Sap. I know what love looks like.”

“I, I don’t know, Quackity. I mean, you say that he feels the same but how do you know for certain?” Quackity raised a brow at the question. “Oh, Q, I don’t know how to tell Sapnap I love him, I’m so scared to lose his friendship! What should I do?” He poorly mimicked the brunette’s voice, giving the other a flat look when he was done. “Uh-“ “Exact conversation we had today before you came. I’m telling you, just tell him. It’ll save you both a lot of pining.” “Look, I’m not that bold, okay?” A frustrated puff of breath escaped the shifter. “Okay.”

Sapnap thought that had been the end of it. Karl had returned, dejectedly telling them it would have to be a kingdom visit after all, and made them dinner. They all ate in relative silence, the brunette happier that Quackity seemed to be in a better mood. They made sleeping arrangements, and Sapnap went to sleep in Karl’s room on the pillow he didn’t use.

So when he woke up to the door being pushed open, seeing a duck waddling in dragging a potion by his mouth towards the bed? He was a little confused, to say the least. “Quackity?” Releasing the bottle, the shifter turned back to his human form, uncorking the bottle and setting it up on the nightstand on Karl’s side before shifting back. “What are you doing?” He sat up, watching concerned as the duck took the bottle’s neck into his beak again, turning to the sleeping brunette and pressing his chin down with his foot, pouring as much of the potion as he could into the other’s now open mouth. He was cut off by Sapnap ramming into him, knocking him off balance and off the bed.

Shifting back, he snatched the bottle out of his mouth and set it back on the nightstand, watching Karl carefully to make sure he hadn’t started choking. “What the fuck was that? What did you just do?” He turned his attention back to the blackette, clicking his tongue in annoyance before carefully scooping him up. “Helping you two out.” Before he could even ask what that meant, he’d been dropped somewhere dark and warm, and closed in before he even registered where he was. And when he had, his blood ran cold.

Quackity had dropped him in Karl’s mouth. “Quackity!? This isn’t funny!” He couldn’t even hear if he got a response, all his senses overwhelmed by his fear and his location. Squirming got him nowhere, only soaking his clothes through with spit, which he wrinkled his nose at. He tried to climb up, tried to find a hand hold on the giant teeth, but he couldn’t see. He hadn’t even realized he’d been pinned against the roof of his mouth until he was released, sliding back at an alarmingly fast rate.

“Karl, wake up! Please!” His fear started to get the better of him, and he called out to the obviously sleeping man, but he felt so confused, hurt, betrayed- and none of it made a difference, because Karl still wound up swallowing him, even if it were completely involuntary.

It was tight, the muscles squeezing him so tightly he’d wondered if he could even breathe, as if his breath wasn’t stuttering in fear. His wasn’t the only one either, he realized with guilt. Karl’s breathing began to waver as he continued getting squished down, only stopping once he was far enough down that all he could hear and feel was the man’s ginormous heart beat. And even then, it instilled him with a sense of dread, because he knew it wouldn’t be long before-

He stopped at a wall, body beginning to curl up as the throat muscles continued pushing him down, before it opened abruptly under him and he slipped into the hollow organ with little trouble. His breathing only got shakier at the realization, however. He’d been eaten. Quackity literally made the man he had a crush on eat him. Why? What had he done wrong? Was this really how he was going to go out?

“Karl!” He shrieked, resolve breaking as he pushed harshly against the walls around him. They started tightening in response, knocking his feet out from under him, and he fell against the closest wall. He’d long since started crying, terrified to lose his life, his friend, his love-

“Sapnap, calm down.” The voice was muffled but loud, and he flinched badly. It was Quackity, and his heart dropped to his stomach. “Hey, Sapnap. You’re okay, it’s okay. The potion protects you.” No, he thought. I can’t.. I can’t take these games. I just wanna know why. “…You probably don’t believe me, and that’s fine. But I know, I’m the one that tested it.” He paused a bit before continuing, and Sapnap couldn’t even tell if it was for him or for himself.

“Karl’s just as much of a coward as you are, if not more Sap. He won’t tell you and he won’t stop you from leaving to tell you. I haven’t been able to convince him otherwise. The potion’s safe, I promise I wouldn’t put you in danger purposely. But Karl won’t have a choice but to talk with you there.” “Can you hear me?” He spoke, repeating it with a shout when he got no response. And the same response came: silence.

So even if he wasn’t in danger, he was stuck, and no amount of screaming was going to help him because nobody could hear him. Sinking back down against the walls, he tried not to think of it as a punishment. Quackity was a silly man, who had silly ideas. The way he spoke, with his voice slightly steeped in guilt, made him believe he was at least genuine about his motive. There had just not been enough planning put into it, is all. He’d tried his best, which is.. definitely gonna scar Sapnap, and likely Karl as well once he wakes up, but surely it’ll be okay.

…Right?

~ ~ ~

When morning came, Sapnap had finally fallen asleep, a weight in Karl’s middle that he noticed almost immediately. That, of course, and the half empty bottle of the potion that stopped his digestive system sitting on his nightstand. Though, he chose to brush it off for a bit, getting up and getting ready for the day so he could go join his apprentice, believing that he had Sapnap. “Quackity, what happened last night that made me get that potion out?” “Hm? I dunno, I was sleeping.” He’d already begun breakfast, keeping a close eye on the eggs to ensure they didn’t burn. “Hm, okay.. where’s Sapnap?”

Karl was observant, one had to be when you made experimental potions and tested them. His companion was fidgeting, refusing to look him in the eye and disguising it as cooking. Quackity also never offered to cook, unless.. he was making up for something. Plus, he was always direct when answering questions about potions, he had to be for Karl. Something was up.

“What did you do?” He spoke gently, phrasing it more of a casual question than an accusation. He’d found out a while back that accusations made the man anxious, and he didn’t want to make him scared. “Made it easier for you.” The other still acted closed-off, and it was beginning to concern him. “What?” “Made it easier for you. Y’know, so you can tell Sap the truth.” His cheeks turned pink at the reminder, but he didn’t stand down. “I don’t think I’m understanding this right. Where is Sapnap?” “….” At the silence, he felt worry gnaw at his core. “Quackity?” “..I didn’t mean to leave the bottle on your nightstand. He tackled me and I forgot about it because I was worried he’d wake you up.” “What did you do?” It was barely above a breath, but it made the shifter wince and look away again. “I.. put him somewhere he couldn’t leave. So you could tell him without chickening out again.”

And then the weight in his middle shifted, and the color drained from his face.

“He’s safe, before you start-“ “WHY WAS THAT YOUR FIRST IDEA!?” He saw Quackity flinch back and felt Sapnap jump at the yell, and he felt guilty. He felt so guilty, how had he not realized sooner!? If it wasn’t for the potion, he would have already been sick, and as it was his hand clamped over his mouth. He was shaking, he knew he was shaking, and he needed to breathe but Sapnap was going to hate him-

He was lowered to the ground, Quackity shifting to a duck and pressing himself into his arms, resting his weight on him to ground him. He hadn't even realized he’d spiraled, but he could tell how badly he scared Sapnap when he had. He could feel the other pressing hesitantly against him, having nothing else he could do. He couldn’t hear him, after all.

For his part, the duck looked guilty, pulling away as soon as Karl seemed stable again and shifting back, unable to look him in the eyes. “This.. wasn’t my best idea, I’m realizing.” “Out of everything you could have gone with, why..” he sounded tired, drained, and it made Quackity look guiltier. “Just figured that if he was somewhere where he couldn’t run off, you’d be able to finally admit how you felt to him. I didn’t think about how none of us would be able to hear him..”

“Quackity, how am I supposed to get him out? I can’t throw up when the potion’s in effect.” The blackette frowned, looking down as he thought of ideas. His eyes lit up suddenly, and he looked up at Karl. “Lay back down for a second.” Though confused, he obliged, and Quackity leaned over his abdomen. His confusion only went away once the other spoke. “Sapnap, one tap for yes, two taps for no. Can you hear us okay?”

Ah, he’s setting up a system so we can talk.

He felt one tap, and nodded to the other. “Okay, good. So, we may have a bit of a problem.” “Quackity-“ “If you drink milk you risk him getting hurt before he can be brought up. I don’t think he can crawl back up himself, and I’d have to have a shrinking potion myself to go in after him.” He sighed, rubbing at his head. “I owe you both so much for this, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ Karl felt two taps, and froze. “What are you saying no to, Sapnap?” Of course, they couldn’t get an answer. “.. What did you use to make the shrinking potion?” Worry made his brow furrow, and it only got worse when he couldn’t meet the other’s eyes. “Q?” “It’s my fault, I’ll go in and help him back out. What was the ingredient?” Karl slowly sat back up, making sure not to jostle his passenger too much. “A warped mushroom.. I brewed it using a weakness potion too..” He nodded, standing up and heading towards the cabinet. Pulling the weakness potion out, he placed it in Karl’s hands on his way to the kitchen to find the mushroom.

They’d done this song and dance many times, Quackity gathered the potions ingredients and Karl set up the brewing stand. He carefully got to his feet, walking to the table to place the potion under the tap and find the power source, blaze powder. His face contorted in confusion, searching the brewing stand itself and then the table, and.. he couldn’t remember where he’d set it. Not the first time, but frustrating nonetheless.

“Karl..” Quackity set the powder beside the brewing stand, along with the warped mushroom. “It’s our last warped mushroom, we’ll have to get some when we get the antidote.” He nodded, hands shaking slightly as he loaded the powder and mushroom into the brewing stand. “How.. how are you going to go about this?” “String? That way you can pull us up and it won’t be affected by the potion.” He nodded, eyes turning back to the table as he let his mind linger on the situation. That is, until arms wrapped around him from behind.

“I’m sorry.” “I know, Quackity.” “What can I do to make it up to you?” “I think you’re doing enough, for me that is. Sapnap may feel differently, but I dunno.” The other was shaking, and Karl hoped it wasn’t out of fear of what was about to happen. He himself was scared of it. He doesn’t know how he swallowed Sapnap without even realizing..

The brewing stand gave a soft noise, indicating that it had finished. “I’ll go grab some string.” Quackity spoke, setting the potion down and heading towards the bedrooms once more. Karl took a seat in one of the chairs, arms wrapped gently around his abdomen. “So, before Quackity comes and gets you out, I.. think I want to tell you something.” Nerves had long since settled in, and he wanted to retract the statement. But.. he also may not get another chance like this. Never mind the fact that he was sure Sapnap would avoid him for a while after this.

“I don’t quite remember when it started, or, how much it actually affected how I thought,” he started, arms tightening as they began to shake. “But.. I think I’m in love with you. And, obviously you don’t have to return those feelings, and I don’t want to ruin what we have already, I just.. after all this, you deserve to know. And when you get back to normal size, if you decide you never want to see me again, that’s fine too.” He hated that his voice cracked at the end, that his eyes had filled with tears. He’d convinced himself that there was no way Sapnap would feel the same, he didn’t think he could go through that heartbreak, but after all this?

“I think you’ll be surprised, honestly.” The brunette jumped at the voice, looking up to see his apprentice lingering at the doorway. “We had a talk about it when you went to the village.” He took the chair beside the other, setting the long piece of string on the table. “That's why I did this. And yea, I didn’t think this plan all the way through, and I’m still sorry about the whole thing, but.. it worked.” He gave a wry smile to the other, who sighed before returning one. “You always come up with the weirdest schemes.” Look, they’re not weird if they work, okay?” “Tell that to the villagers. ‘Oh I made my teacher confess to their crush by making him swallow him, don’t worry, his experimental potions made it all possible’. See how they react.” He tried to mimic the man’s voice, pouting when he was laughed at. “What was that supposed to be?” “You!”

They bickered for a moment longer, both easing into the situation they were about to endure, and Karl was glad to note that by the time the shifter grabbed the potion, his shoulders had dropped and there wasn’t an ounce of fear in his face. It helped him relax more, his own expression softening as he watched the other drink the potion, sitting up on the table so he didn’t fall when he shrunk.

Quackity had also grabbed a doll outfit of his own, remembering what happened when Sapnap had shrunken, which Karl hadn’t considered until the man had already been engulfed in his own clothes. Before he could get up to go get clothes for him, he already wriggled out from the now mountainous attire. “Already thought of it.” He grinned, barely containing his laughter at the somewhat dramatic eye roll he got in retaliation. “I’m curious about something.” Karl mentioned as he held a hand out to the other. “What?” “How did you come up with that idea to begin with? Surely you had other ideas for this.” Quackity pulled himself up onto the hand, bringing the string with him as he was raised up closer.

“Sapnap kept making jokes about getting eaten.” “Uh-“ “He meant them as jokes, I meant them as jokes, but then it just became the first thought I had. I mean, how much closer can he get to you anyway?” “Maybe if I could hear him, Quackity.” He snarked, taking the end of the string into his other hand and wrapping it around the tiny’s middle. The shifter took the ends and tied them together, double, triple and quadruple tying it at Karl’s insistence. “I think you’re blowing this outta proportion.” “What happens if the string falls off of you, though? Nobody else is going to let me do this.”

“It’s knotted fine, Karl. Now are we gonna do this, or am I gonna die of old age first?” “You’re awfully eager to get eaten.” “I’m eager to get this shit over with and accept whatever punishment Sapnap decides to give me.” He gave a skeptical look, which made the other laugh. “Let’s get this done before he decides to wrestle me while we’re in there for taking too long.” And.. that absolutely was something he could see Sapnap doing, so he stopped stalling, bringing the smaller up to his mouth and swallowing his nerves before opening it wide enough to put him in.

He felt awful when the blackette flinched back, eyes closed so he couldn’t see the fear he knew was etched on his face. Just as quickly as the panic came, it went, and he was met with the foreign feeling of his apprentice pulling himself into his mouth using his teeth as handholds. He didn’t dare move until he felt the man pull all his limbs closer to himself, carefully closing his mouth to prevent his teeth from cutting the string.

He was horrified to find he liked how the other tasted. A blend of savory and spicy, it would have been wonderful had it been a meal and not his apprentice and one of his closest friends. He was ashamed to even let his mind wander, imagining how Sapnap must have tasted when he swallowed him as well, accidentally or otherwise. He tried to ignore the thoughts, he really did, but it was hard when the blackette in his mouth called out. “You trying to drown me or something!?” And wow, he really was drooling a lot..

He mentally shook his head, sharply dispelling the thoughts as he gathered his courage and tipped his head back. The sooner they were out, the sooner he could completely eliminate those thoughts. He shouldn’t think of his friends as delicious, that in itself was just horrendous in his eyes. Taking a deep breath through his nose, feeling the man go limp to help him out. Taking more string into his mouth so he didn’t choke too badly, he took the first swallow.

Quackity wasn’t a big person at normal size, he was maybe a few centimeters taller than Sapnap was when shrunken, but when he only got the man’s legs in his throat with as hard of a swallow as he’d done? How did he ever get Sapnap down? At that point, there was little else he could do but keep swallowing, the second pulling him up to his torso, the third pulling him the rest of the way in.

After that, he just had to make sure he didn’t sever the string.

~ ~ ~

If Quackity had not regretted this plan yet, he definitely did now.

Being squeezed in every direction by warm, soft muscles, forced down and completely surrounded by loud white noise like his teacher’s heart or his shaky breathing? He felt more than a little overwhelmed, and he could only imagine how bad it had been for poor Sapnap, who hadn’t even known he was safe. The only thing he could do was just stay limp, and try not to focus on anything too much to keep from spiraling. His mind jolted back to reality when his feet hit a wall, the next swallow making him scrunch down onto himself. “Uh..Karl!?” He couldn’t help the panic when yet another swallow hadn’t made him budge.

Until he suddenly did, the wall opening under him and making him slip into the equally dark organ. He fell right on top of who could only have been Sapnap, which caused the both of them to struggle as they tried to orient themselves and stand up. Quackity hadn’t been standing long, catching his breath in the muggy air before he felt something strike his arm, and he reeled back with a hiss of pain. He wasn’t going to complain, he just needed Sapnap to get his anger out. “Motherfucker-”

“I’m sorry, Sapnap.” He cut the other off, freezing when he’d realized he’d done it. He curled into himself slightly, trying to appear smaller. “I didn’t think this plan all the way through, I know that. I’ll make it up to you however you want me to-“ “Can we get out of here first? Dunno about you, but I’ve been in here a better part of this day and I’d like to be able to stretch.” He didn’t sound angry, or upset, he just sounded tired, and it made the other feel worse. “Yeah, we can get out.” He tugged against the string, reaching out and finding the other’s hand before pulling him over to him. For his part, Sapnap did not fight against him when he was pulled into a hug to make it easier for Karl to pull them up, both knowing it was going to be hard regardless.

And it was, the first tug that pulled them into his throat made the larger man gag, and from there they were tugged up faster than before in his desperation to get them out of his throat. Quackity could feel Sapnap wince against his shoulder, and he himself was wincing as well at the tight squeeze. It was bad enough with only one of them going down, but both of them together and being pulled up made it feel like they were suffocating in more ways than one.

Karl seemed to feel the same way, as his breaths were not as steady as they should have been when they’d finally made it past the large heart throbbing against them as they were tugged up. Finally, after the painstakingly slow journey up, they were pulled into a more open space with a slight cough. They hadn’t even had time to register that they’d finally been freed from the confines of their friend’s throat before they were pulled from his mouth completely, set gently on the table before the brunette doubled over in his chair, trying desperately to catch his breath and stop his stomach from rolling.

Sapnap himself had a hard time readjusting, having grown used to the dark, warm space inside of his crush but finding comfort in the cool surface below. Glancing over at Quackity, he could tell the ordeal had taken a lot out of him as well, laid on his back and weakly tugging at the wet string still attached to his waist. Rolling onto his stomach, which felt like a momentous task with his achy muscles, he crawled over and started working to undo the knot. He tried to ignore the fact that he felt the shifter’s body flinch away from under his hand, knowing the other expected punishment.

Finally, the string gave way, and he pulled it away from the other before promptly collapsing on the table once more. “How did that make me sore?” “I think it was too much pressure.” Quackity groaned in response, still laid down with closed eyes. “Is-“ Karl’s voice was shot, and Sapnap looked up to the now standing brunette. He held a cloth in his hand. “Is it okay if I help you dry off?” He seemed apprehensive, ready to bolt if the shrunken man even looked upset with him.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” He gave an easy smile back, hoping to calm the other’s nerves before he was gently scooped up.

Carefully drying the saliva and potion still clinging to the tiny’s form, Karl whispered apologies. “I’m sorry that this happened. Like I said, if you don’t want to stay, that’s okay-“ “I just need time to think, Karl. This situation wasn’t your fault anyway, you were sound asleep.” Sapnap had already made his mind up; of course he was going to forgive and reciprocate Karl’s feelings. But he also just needed a minute to pull his own words together so he didn’t make himself a complete fool. So for the time being, he let himself relax into the other’s movements.

Only after Sapnap was finished, and he was then scooped up, did Quackity realize his error: he couldn’t go back to normal height. He couldn’t go get the ingredients to turn them back. He bit his tongue, looking down with more guilt than before. He’d gotten so lost in his attempt to help out again that he’d screwed them over worse than before… “I’m sorry-“ “It’s okay, Quackity.” “It isn’t. How are we supposed to get the ingredients to turn us back now?” Karl carefully ran the cloth against his face, movements never on the verge of rough. “I.. don’t know, but it’ll be okay. If I have to go get the ingredients myself, I will. You’re okay, Quackity.”

“Actually..” Sapnap spoke up, catching both their attention as Quackity was set back on the table. “I’ve got a friend who owes me a favor.”

~ ~ ~

The man at the doorway was nothing short of intimidating, eyes hidden behind goggles and shirt a light blue in comparison to everyone’s white shirts. It was like he was something of an artist, dying the threads and fabric he used to make his own personal designs and clothes. Karl would be impressed if those sharp eyes didn’t watch his every move as he invited the man inside. “So, it’s kind of a long story as to what happened-“ “What did he do this time?” The accent was unexpected, but Karl did well not to mention it. “Well, he was trying to help me with my potions and-“ It had been too late to explain, as the man instantly spotted the blackette on the table and quickly walked over.

“What the fuck have you done to yourself?” The brunette winced at the accusation, and Sapnap waved it off. “Accidents happen. Are you gonna help me out or not?” The other brunette sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose above his glasses. “What am I supposed to tell Dream?” “That I need these ingredients for my f- boyfriend. Who’s a potion brewer.” Karl was very good at schooling his expression, it seemed, but Quackity was not, eyes widening and mouth threatening to drop agape. “..what ingredient?” “Uh-“ Sapnap faltered.

“I need crimson mushrooms..” Karl spoke up, hesitantly. The man turned to him, watching him for a moment with a calculating gaze. “Make a list of everything you need from the kingdom. I’ll go get ready.” “My hero.” Sapnap pretended to swoon, leaning back with a hand draped over his forehead. “Well if you’d stop being an idiot I wouldn’t have to be your ‘hero’.” He rolled his eyes from behind his goggles. “I’ll return in a moment.”

Quackity slammed an elbow into his ribs the second the man closed the door behind him. “Your boyfriend, huh!?” His face turned bright red and he looked away. “I mean-“ “Do you mean it?” There was fragile hope in the brunette’s eyes, a pensive look pulling the corners of his lips down. “Well, yeah. If.. if that’s okay with you. I mean, you said you loved me earlier and I definitely feel the same-“ he was scooped up before he could even process what happened, a giant kiss enveloping his face.

“I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.” He whispered when he pulled away, smiling at him and barely holding his tears back. If Sapnap was red before, he was positively scarlet now, chest slightly heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Oh.. that’s good.” He couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his own face, grinning up at the larger. “Thank prime all that’s sorted out.” Quackity laid back on the table, looking up at the two. “No offense, but if you complained about your feelings to me one more time Karl I might have dropped a potion on you.” “You wouldn’t have and you know it.” The shifter opened his mouth, before closing it and looking askance. “Yeah, yeah you’re right.”

“Alright, I gotta get this list together for your friend.” “George, I promise he’s not as much of an asshole as he makes himself out to be.” A strange look came to the shifter’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything else. Well, he did, just not on the subject. “Blaze powder, crimson mushrooms, warped mushrooms, maybe some more ghast tears if we can afford it..” “I wouldn’t worry about cost. This is George repaying his favor, he can just complain to Dream and get the cost lowered anyway.” Again, that strange look came to Quackity’s face, but he didn’t speak on it. “I’d still like to pay him back, though..” Karl pouted.

“I’m telling you it’s fine, George will get over it.” “What is this favor thing anyway?” “I bailed his ass out of a lot of trouble a while back. He said he owed me one. I just never expected to have to pay it in.” A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and Karl picked up his list before walking to the door. Sapnap turned to Quackity as the brunette disappeared from sight. “You okay?” The shifter nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “Okay.. you know you can talk to me if you need to, right?” With that, his shoulders dropped. “I know. You and Karl both. It’s just.. never mind.” He shook his head, looking away.

Sapnap frowned, but he didn’t push the issue. “He’s headed out. He said it may take a few weeks, though.” “That’s fine, Karl.” He looked up to the larger as he approached the table, smiling at him. “For now, do we wanna go nap for a while? It’s not like I’m gonna get much done with both of you at this size anyway.” “Fuck yes!” Quackity cheered, walking over to the brunette. “I wouldn’t mind.” Sapnap agreed, joining Quackity at the edge of the table as the two were gently scooped up by Karl’s hands. He made sure his hands stayed steady as he walked to his room, putting both on the pillow Sapnap was originally sleeping on before crawling under the covers himself.

Then he picked them back up, much to their confusion. Though, it quickly changed to appreciation as they were held against the giant’s chest, under the blanket where they’d stay warmer. A content sigh escaped the brunette, and his body relaxed into the bed. “Good night, Q, Sap. I love you.” “I love you too, Karl.” Warmth flooded his chest as he said it back, happy that he finally had the ability to. “Uh, you mean that as a friend for me, right Karl?” Quackity tried to clarify, but his answer was a soft snore. “K-Karl?” Sapnap chuckled as he settled down against the other’s chest, letting the loud heartbeat lull him to sleep.

This was absolutely not how he expected his confession to go, but there was no way he’d trade it. Not many people could say they had such a thrilling confession story, and he was glad to have the one he had, with his best friend beside him. Though… Now that warm fuzzy feeling he had for Karl was starting to show up when he thought of Quackity. But that’s a story for another time.

And so the three allowed themselves to relax after the events of the day, content with each other’s company. And Sapnap was eager to see what the future held when they were all normal sized again.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #mcyt vore #safe vore #soft vore #g/t vore #for Squishy #btw I realized just now I forgot about the eggs Q was cooking #so uh he just took them off the fire #fiancés potion au

[wixelt]

Hermit D&D: GeminiTay

As at least one person was interested in my assigning D&D class info to each Hermit, i’m going to at least try & do it with the Hermit for whom it thematically fits, that being Gem.

This will be slightly train of thought, as i’m doing the research as I type this. Also, I’ll be using 5th edition, it being the version i’m most familiar with as a player. :P

Gem world hops. Both Empires & Hermitcraft’s overworlds are “Earth-type” - “Material Planes” in D&D terms - so they likely don’t exist in the same region of the multiverse & instead different corners of creation with their own versions of parallel planes (the Nether & End).

Due to this - & as the MC multiverse doesn’t have a nexus (such as Sigil in D&D) just going by “canon” info (unless you count the multiplayer server menu, which I don’t) - Gem probably has access to the spell Dream of the Blue Veil - which allows her to go anywhere she can think about while she’s asleep as long as she has an object that originates from the destination world on her person (& as most places she goes to she seems to have been invited to, that tracks).

This is the only teleportation spell I know of that can cross setting boundaries (though if I've missed one i’d love to know), as most others are limited to the same plane of existence but over short range (Misty Step, etc.) or another plane in the same local cosmology (Plane Shift).

Theoretically, Gem could also use the Wish spell to traverse worlds, but Wish is a catch-all & feels like it’d be cheating, here.

I do know there’s also other means of world hopping in D&D, but in & of Gem herself, this seems the most likely.

So if Gem can use DotBV, which is a 7th-level conjuration spell, that cuts down what class she can be massively. Bards, Sorcerers & Wizards can all learn 7th-level spells at Level 13 & above, as can Warlocks via their own abilities.

Specific sub-classes of other classes can learn this spell as well, though a Cleric with the Arcana subclass at Level 17 or above is the only one able to do so without using a spell scroll. Given Gem’s ability seems inherent, its unlikely she’s using a scroll.

So at this point Gem is either a Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard or Cleric of a high level. She could also be a multi-class, which would be on-point for a Hermit, but the for the moment lets assume she’s single class to keep things easy.

And at this point i’m going to need things to be easy as there’s not a ton to go on from this point. She’s canonically human in a variety of costumes, & most of the stuff she does in Empires is “LARPing”, in her own words.

What she does have, however, is a massive love of nature & has been shown bringing trees to life seemingly by magic, which if it wasn’t for that one spell would easily make her a Druid. So what we need is something Druid-adjacent.

And wouldn’t you know it, there’s a few nature-esque spells ranging from 1st to 3rd-level - such as Animal Friendship, Plant Growth & Speak with Animals - that can be learned by several classes, including Bards.

And honestly, for someone who regularly LARPs, a performing class such as a Bard seems about right.

Which means so far we know Gem is likely a Level 13 or higher Bard who knows a range of nature based spells, as well as Dream of the Blue Veil.

But then that brings us to subclass, & ironically my first thought by name, the College of Lore, probably wouldn’t be a good fit for Gem, given it implies she’d need to be honest about her intentions - rather than pretending she doesn’t know what’s going on - & also probably not play at being a princes. :P

Instead, i’m going to suggest Gem falls under the College of Eloquence, as its various abilities & tenets - most of which are unlocked below Level 13 - espouse being good with words no matter where you go, which fits quite well someone trying to play pretend without anyone catching on.

I’ll skim over other aspects of character creation, as i’m not building an entire character & stats don’t mean much in this context. I do think Gem probably falls under the character background of Outlander, though, given the context. I was half tempted to make her a Hermit, for obvious reasons (& yes that is the actual name of a background :P), but I don’t think it fits her.

So for a TL;DR, Gem’s likely a Level 13+ College of Eloquence Bard of the Outlander background, with several nature spells & Dream of the Blue Veil, which lets her dimension hop in the context of the MC multiverse. Getting any more specific with Level is difficult, so lets leave it there for now. :)

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitcraft headcanon #empires smp #empiresblr #empires s2 #hc x empires #empires x hc #geminitay #hermit d&d #dungeons and dragons

[tohisprettyc00l]

Hello! I’m Kei and I’m here for two romantic matchups!

I have messy brown hair in a pixie cut, pale skin, eyebags, blue and hazel heterochromia (not sure if I spelt that right lol), a thin body, boney fingers, some acne on my cheeks and blackheads on my nose, a big-ish nose that I tend to be insecure about, quite a few moles that I also am insecure about, thin pink lips with a Cupids bow, and round circle glasses.

I tend to be very sarcastic and snarky, but I’m also very nice to people that I like, I usually have a soft spot for people I have a crush on but I’ll usually avoid them bcs I’m too scared to interact with them and I don’t want to embarrass myself lmao. I get embarrassed easily, especially if someone’s flirting with me or doing something cringey near me. Whenever I’m around people I don’t like I usually just give them a nasty side eye or a glare. I don’t really have friends, but that’s because I’m homeschooled and I live out in the country so any town I’m around is usually 45 minutes away. I’m very selfless and I always put other people’s well-being before my own and I’m not good at saying no. I usually follow the rules and never get into any trouble because I prefer to stay under the raidar. I’m alone most of the time when I’m not learning, and I’m pretty isolated as well. I’m very empathetic towards plants and animals as well as the environment, so I like to pick up any trash or anything that could possibly harm the environment. As I’ve said before: I’m very sarcastic, but I’m also quite oblivious so I can’t detect sarcasm that easily. I’m pretty bad at social cues, and I’m oblivious when it comes to people who have a crush on me or try to flirt with me, but like I said, I get very flustered when I realize someone’s flirting. I’m very shy and nervous around new people, and I usually stay close to the person I know the most when I meet them.

I LOVE history, but mostly the creepy and darker side of history. I’m super into paranormal investigating and I’d love to investigate with friends and such. I like exploring abandoned buildings but I always prefer to have someone with me. I like doing creepy challenges with friends, I also like exploring the wilderness and nature. I LOVE swimming and I have a deep connection with the ocean and water. I can be pretty weird when I’m not being sarcastic.

Gender: Gender-fluid but I prefer he/him and they/them pronouns

Sexuality: Bisexual

Likes: Conspiracy theories, cryptids, mysteries, exploring, Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, scary stories, legends, creepy history, paranormal stuff, Star Wars, marvel, anime, video games, music, dr.pepper, candy (specifically chocolate and cotton candy), witchcraft, Ninjago, Tmnt, nature, cats, foxes, rabbits, the morning dew, science, and other nerdy stuff.

I have social anxiety, autism, depression, and some PTSD

I have a pretty traumatic childhood, but I don’t remember much of it because my brain made me forget, so kudos to my brain ig

I’d be in the oracle, bard, and abomination track at hexide.

My palisman would be a cardinal (took a quiz)

And if you don’t mind, could you focus on what the characters would think of me? Please and thank you! ^^

I match you with: Edric Blight!

-He is also pretty damn sarcastic and snarky at times. He loves it when people he likes (romantically or platonicly) are also like that. He likes being able to bounce off each other.

-He is also super nervous around his crush so when y'all talk to each other before dating it's a mess (affectionate)

-You follow the rules and don't get into trouble? Lame. Nah, just joking despite his delinquent personality he actually gets along pretty well with people who follow the rules. Just look at Amity.

-He likes animals a lot! He needs his partner to be caring towards animals tbh.

-He's horrible at taking care of plants tho- He would probably ask how to take care of plants, he wants to learn.

-All the blight kids love creepy stuff. So obviously that includes him.

-He would love to hear about creepy stuff and stories. If you tell him you explore abandoned buildings. First of all your cool as fuck for doing that, second of all please take him with that sounds so interesting.

-If he's interested in any shows or games you're into he can talk to you about it for hours.

-Also I don't know why but I feel like he would sweet food and drinks. So with your taste, he is so ready to get snacks for both of you.

-Y'all have a pretty similar personality. Hunter is more sarcastic and snarky with specific people (*Cough* Amity *Cough*) tho.

-He also has a soft spot for people he has a crush on. But despite that, he doesn't really think you have a crush on him unless you tell him explicitly.

-Yeah he gets putting others' well-being above your own. But (despite him doing the exact same thing) he is like 'No stop it, please value yourself more.'

-He used to (I still kinda does) follow the rules but he does it to get noticed lmao.

-He thinks animals and plants are neat. So (even if it's just how to take care of them) he'd be very interested to learn more.

-As mentioned before he's also pretty oblivious. It's pretty painful for the rest of the hexsquad, and really everyone, to watch.

-He is really interested in the human realm. He experienced the creepier part of the demon realm (or the closest thing to creepiness there.) So he would exchange creepy facts with you from your respective realms.

-He would probably watch/read all the stuff you like. He trusts your judgment on whether a piece of media is good or not.

I hope you like this! Also, I'm sorry this took so long! And I'm so sorry I didn't really focus on what they thought idk I tried.

#toh x reader #the owl house x reader #hunter x reader #golden gaurd x reader #hunter toh x reader #toh hunter x reader #edric blight x reader #edric x reader #toh matchups

[running-on-narrativium]

I’d kill for Discworld and Owl House Crossover. The idea of Tiffany Aching and Luz Noceda becoming friends is so adorable, and Eda meeting the Lancre Coven would be amazing. Her and Nanny Ogg would definitely hit it off, though I’m not too sure she’d get along with Granny Weatherwax. I can either see them bonding over their apprentices becoming friends or fighting because they’re both stubborn af with very opposing views on magic. Let’s be real, we all know Granny would probably dislike most of the magic done in the Boiling Isles since it kind of borders on wizard magic and “occult nonsense” when compared to the witchcraft she prefers. Eda would probably think Granny is too uptight and get annoyed by that testing thing she always does with everyone, and you can bet she wouldn’t do that witch thing where they act overly polite and formal with each other when they really dislike someone. Eda can’t be having with that. If she hates your guts, she’ll tell you. She would probably be interested in that borrowing thing Granny does though.

Of course she’d love the Feegles, Eda would feel like they’d have a lot to learn from each other. Like, how to get into places or the joys of drinking apple blood.

Then there’s Willow and Magrat bonding over their plant knowledge and you can bet she’d be interested in learning about the Palismans too.

Lilith and Miss Tick would get along famously, I think. I feel like they share a lot of similar interests.

And could you imagine Agnes discovering Bard Magic?

#headology: headcanons #the truth has it’s boots on: ooc #discworld #the owl house #tiffany aching #granny weatherwax #nanny ogg #nac mac feegle #agnes nitt #magrat garlick #miss tick #luz nodeda #Willow park #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne

[imsparky2002]

Ghouls and Monsters - The Phantom

(OperJean is jammin out on his synthesizer, waiting for his counterpart to show up. Mylentasma giggles in the darkness, before swooping down, ready to spook the boy. OperJean stops playing, swearing he heard something.)

OperJean: Austin? That you, dahlin?

(Mylentasma appears before him with a ominous clap of lightning and a menacing laugh, her cloak fluttering dramatically.)

Mylentasma: Behold... THE PHANTOM OF THE THEATRE!

(OperJean yelps, as Mylentasma's face is covered in dark shadow. She's so happy she got to scare her counterpart.) 

Mylentasma: So, fellow ghost. Are you quivering in fear at my sudden appearance?

OperJean: Land sakes, dahlin’, you scared the wits outta me! Almost made me play a wrong note!

(Mylentasma lets the shadows disappear, and gives a bow, showing her true kinder, yet still theatrical self.)

Mylentasma: Apologies, dear! I do just love to give people a little scare before I say hello!

OperJean: So, Phantom of the Theatre. What's your real name? Mine's Jean.

Mylentasma: I am called Mylene. Pleasure to meet you! 

(He raises an eyebrow, they knew she looked familiar!)

OperJean: You're a ghost in your world? Why, here, you're a plant creature! A real nice girl, might I add.

Mylene: How fascinating! So there is a version of everyone? (Claps in delight) Do you have a picture? I’d like to see for myself!

(He shows her one, and she coos.) 

Mylentesma: How wonderful! A true child of Mother Nature. 

OperJean: Yeah, and she's more of a hippie, so it's odd hearing her voice sound so dramatic. Not that I'm complaning, because I'm a dramatic fella myself. And might I add, that's a wonderful outfit you have on. I've never been one for capes, but yours is magnificent!

(She smiles and gives a dramatic flourish of her cloak, pulling it close to her face, before letting go and giggling.)

Mylenetasma: I’ve always had a love for garb of elegance and mystery. My Angel of Music just adores it! And I must say, you seem to have similar taste. That piano belt is just darling!

OperJean: Aw shucks. This ol’ thing? Well you know I gotta show off my musical talents, even in what I wear. You play some sort of piano?

Mylentasma: The pipe organ to be precise. You played such lovely tunes on your synthesizer.

OperJean: Well, thanks! It was just a little piece I wrote up for my Angel with a scythe, Austin! (Blushes)

Mylentasma: Ooh! An Angel of music and death! 

OperJean: Yep! I assume your Ivan is the angel you speak of? And he ain't a Yeti, is he?

Mylentasma: Why, no! He’s a human, though he may as well be sent from heaven. He’s gentle and kind, and so poetic! 

OperJean: (Chuckles) Kinda funny to think of him spouting poetry. (Deepens his voice and puts on a Russian accent)  Rose red, violet blue, watch out for avalanche. Ok I go now.

Mylentasma: (Giggles) That’s how he speaks? 

OperJean: We’ll, he grew up n’tha mountains, talkin’ a lot wastes oxygen.

Mylentasma: Ah, well that explains everything. 

OperJean: Well, I'm assuming you're as nice as my Mylene, so what do you do to help people as a phantom?

Mylentasma: Well, I’m there to give confidence to people who need it, keep the sets and backstage running smoothly, help with remembering lines, and every once in a while, teach a lesson to someone who gets a little too big for their boots. (Giggles)

OperJean: Lemme guess, you make 'em bark like a dog? 

Mylentasma: One of my favorite methods. I also spook kids by appearing in the mirror, or laugh from the shadows.

OperJean: Can’t say I do the same. Monsters don’t really…scare people in world. It wouldn’t really…help our situation.

Mylentasma: Ah, that makes sense. So how do you use your powers for good, my dear?

OperJean: Kinda like a bard, honestly. My songs cheer people up. I’m a great actor too, not to toot my own horn!

Mylentasma: I happen to be a thespian myself! My darling daddy taught me everything I know.

OperJean: Say, would ya like to join me in a show? We could be a duo. It would be totally tubular!

Mylentasma: That sounds delightful! I think our styles of music and theatrics could blend quite nicely!

OperJean: Alright! This is gonna be the bee's knees!

And there’s the first Monstrous/Ghoul Squad crossover! Thank you so much to Weeby for helping with the dialogue, and next up is the Werewolves in Ghoul Squad Alix and Monstrous Kim! As always, make sure to reply, reblog, post and ask. @artzychic27 @msweebyness 

#mylene haprele #mylene #jean duparc #jean #phantom of the opera #ghost #phantom #ghoul squad au #ghoul squad #school for monster #monstrous au #monstrous #monster au #monster

[middleearthpixie]

After the Fire ~ Chapter Twenty-Eight

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a grievously wounded Thorin is brought back to the kingdom of Erebor, which is still mostly in ruins. Although he’s survived the wounds he received at the end of Azog’s blade, his recovery is far from complete. Grief, regret, anger, all are making his journey that much more difficult and the physical recovery isn’t quite the most difficult challenge he faces.

Jasna Stoneham is no stranger to loss, as she is a survivor of Smaug’s wrath upon Esgaroth. When she is asked to help the dwarves healers of Erebor, her instinct is to say no, but she needs the job, and so agrees to it. However, no one told her that of all the patients, she would be responsible for the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield. 

Unfortunately, the road to recovery isn’t necessary a smooth one, but if there’s one thing Thorin will learn, it’s that Jasna is just as stubborn as he is and for every step back he takes, she is there to push him three steps forward. And Jasna will soon find out that there is a gentle, softer side to the dwarf king, one that very few people have ever seen and one he fights to keep hidden from her as well. But like his recovery, that is also easier said than done. 

Thorin wrestles with how and when to tell Jasna about Ereborian law regarding who he can and cannot marry…

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Jasna Stoneham

Characters: Jasna, Thorin, Dís, Arabella Stoneham 

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,466

Khuzdul Translation:

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @quiall321 @dianakc

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

“There you are.”

Jasna started when Thorin came up behind her as she stood out in the courtyard at sunset. In the weeks she’d been gone, someone had taken it upon themselves to clear out the debris and undergrowth, to plant flowers and a garden and she smiled at the flower boxes along the wall’s perimeter. It looked as if someone had planted herbs, which was something Narnerra kept saying she was going to do, so Jasna wondered if she was responsible for them. 

“Is something wrong?” He slid his arms about her waist, tugging her against him. 

“No. Not wrong, exactly.”

“Then what is it? I thought perhaps you’d come down to my chambers.”

She smiled at the soft invitation in his voice, closing her eyes as she leaned back into him. “I h-h-have a confession to m-m-make.”

“A confession?”

She nodded. “I went to pay a call on Fíli. With Narnerra. I’ll be working with him to g-g-get him on his feet.”

“He’s been frustrated by how slowly his recovery has gone.”

“I kn-know. He and Narnerra said the same.”

“So, perhaps, instead of coming here every day from Dale, you should just remain here.”

She turned toward him. “My mother w-w-w-would not l-l-like that.”

He shrugged. “She can stay here as well. I’ll have apartments set up for you to share until the wedding.”

“Which we h-h-h-have yet to even set a d-d-date for.”

His eyes danced. “As soon as possible, I think.”

“Thorin, you’re a k-k-king. A r-r-royal wedding takes time.”

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it seemed to her that he flinched with her words. But, then, he smiled, shaking his head. “I care not about the fanfare and nonsense, Jasna. Let’s just go into Dale and have Bard perform the ceremony.”

“Thorin!”

“What?”

She sighed softly, her cheeks growing warm. “I know to y-y-you, it’s all fanfare and nonsense, but t-t-t-to me? It’s something I n-never dreamed I’d have. I confess, I rather l-like the idea of the fanfare and nonsense.”

His nose wrinkled. “You do? But you don’t strike me as the fanfare sort.”

“What does that even m-m-mean—the fanfare sort?”

“I mean, you are practical and pragmatic, not given to fancy and fairy stories.”

“Not given to f-f-fancy and f-f-fairy stories? Thorin, those were all I had growing up. Th-th-those were what I clung to as a child. What l-l-little girl doesn’t dr-dr-dream of being a princess?”

His fingertips swept lightly along her back, his eyes softer now. “It means that much to you, mesmel?”

“I know it seems silly to you, but yes.”

“Then you shall have it.” He bent to her, his lips gentle, his beard prickly as he swept a kiss across her lips. “And when would you wish to have it, then?”

“Perhaps this summer? The plains are already showing s-s-signs of regrowth and the c-c-courtyard will beautiful as well.”

“You wish an outdoor wedding?”

“Where w-w-would you hold it if I was dwarven?”

“In the Great Hall, most likely.”

“Thorin, w-w-will everyone f-f-fit in the Great Hall?”

He groaned softly. “The guest list will be enormous, won’t it?”

“I’m afraid so. You’ve heads of st-st-state from all throughout Middle Earth to invite, remember.”

“Oh, do not remind me.” He tugged her flush against him. “Perhaps we can go down to my apartments and find a way to take my mind from wedding planning.”

“A t-t-tempting thought, that.”

“So?”

She sighed softly, looking up in to his soft eyes. “I w-w-wish I could.”

“I know.” He bent to brush her lips once more. “Let me see you home, then.”

“You d-d-don’t have t-t-t-to.”

“I know. But I’m going to.”

Jasna didn’t miss how many people on Dale’s streets stopped to stare as she and Thorin passed by them. She didn't know if it was because of what had happened prior to the Battle of the Five Armies, if it was because he was a handsome king, or if it was because they were surprised to see her on his arm, but they definitely stopped and watched them pass by.

Thorin, however, didn't seem to notice as he walked her to her door. The front windows were dark. Jasna slipped her key into the lock and gave a twist, then put her shoulder into the door to pop it open. “Sometimes it sticks.”

The sitting room was dark, so she moved to light the lamp on the table alongside the sofa and as she did, Thorin said, “You should give coming to Erebor now some thought.”

“I d-d-don’t know if my mother w-w-would want to.”

He moved to the sofa, sank onto it, and said, “I could speak with her, if you thought it would help.”

She smiled. “I think it m-m-might lead her to w-w-wonder why you wished me so close t-t-to you.”

Her belly did a teasing flip at his slow smile. “It would definitely make things easier to sneak you into my chambers night after night.”

“Thorin!”

“What? It would.” He held out a hand. “Come and sit with me.”

“That is a t-t-terrible idea, Your Majesty.”

“Why?”

“B-b-b-because it is.”

Still, she came around the table to lay her hand in his and couldn’t hold back her laugh as he tugged her down onto his lap. “I promise to keep my hands to myself, mesmel,” he murmured even as he drew her against him. “Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Mostly.” He tugged her down to meet his kiss. She should protest. Should protest and pull away, since Mama could walk in at any moment. 

But at the same time, he kissed her so thoroughly, with such fire, that pulling away was the last thing she wanted to do. So instead, she melted against him, easing her arms about his neck, and threaded her fingers through his soft hair. 

He slid a hand down along her calf, caught her skirt in his fingers to drag up just enough to slip that hand beneath it. Pleasure flashed through her as his fingertips skimmed along her calf, about her knee, to just above it. He stopped there, just stroked the back of her right thigh ever so gently, she barely felt it even as it sent heat streaking through her. 

Thorin broke the kiss, brushing his lips along her jaw, down along the side of her neck. Her eyes closed of their own, that heat in her lower half slowly whispered through the rest of her. He swept his lips back up, whispering, “Amrâlimê,” as he did.

“Mmm…” Jasna couldn't keep from shivering at the growly purr of his voice. 

“I look forward to the time when we need not worry about anyone barging in on us,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.

“Soon,” she murmured back, pulling away to meet his smoky-eyed gaze. 

“Not soon enough.”

A key sounded in the door and Jasna scrambled off his lap as Mama came in and frowned at them both. “Jasna? What goes on here?”

“N-nothing, Mama. His Majesty—”

“Thorin,” he broke in softly, but with a hint of a sigh in his voice. “I assure you, Jasna, it’s quite all right to use my given name now.”

Her cheeks grew warm, and it only worsened as Mama said, “She is not your wife yet.”

“Mama,” Jasna said, shooting her a look, “stop.”

Thorin just smiled. “It’s quite all right, Mrs. Stoneham. I promise you, I’ve given Jasna permission more than once. But,” his hand came to rest on Jasna’s knee, “if you feel more comfortable using my title, that would be fine as well.”

Mama scowled at that hand. “I think it would be best if you took your leave now, Your Majesty. I’d hate to have anyone gossiping about my daughter.”

Jasna felt the slight tension in Thorin’s fingers as they briefly tightened about her knee, and she glanced over to see his smile had faded and his eyes had narrowed. “Of course. The last thing I’d want is anyone spreading rumors about her.”

“Good. I’m glad you understand.”

“But,” Thorin stood, facing Mama, “I would like to ask for your permission for her to come and live amongst us in Erebor. You would, of course, be welcome to come as well.”

“To live in Erebor?” Mama’s voice grew taut. “With the dwarves?”

“Well, considering that’s where we live,” Thorin replied calmly, “yes.”

“That would not be at all proper, though. At least, not until the vows are taken.” Mama looked from him to Jasna and back. “That is, if they actually are taken.”

“Mama!” Jasna snapped, “What do you mean, if?”

“I mean exactly that, Jasna.” Mama spun toward her. “It makes no sense, why this dwarf wishes to wed you, a daughter of Man. It would make no sense if he was only a commoner, but it makes even less being that he is their king.”

She spun back toward Thorin. “And that leads me to question your motives, Your Majesty. And it leads me to think you are but making sport of my daughter. I know she’s already shared your bed—”

“Mama!” Jasna’s voice reverberated off the walls around them as her cheeks burned with embarrassment now. “Please, just, stop!”

“Do you think me a fool, Jasna?” Mama shook her head as she turned back toward her and curved her hands again Jasna’s shoulders. “Why would the dwarf king want to take you as his wife? His people will never accept you. You are not one of them and I am terrified he is but setting you up, playing a cruel joke on you in order to get what he wishes from you and I am terrified that it has worked.”

Jasna’s gut twisted into a sharp knot as she stared at her mother. “How could you say such a thing to me? How could you even think that?”

“Because I know men.”

“You may know the men of Man,” Thorin broke in, his voice low and cold, “but you do not know me.”

“Oh, think so, do you? I was there, you know, when you promised all of Esgaroth a share of Erebor’s vast fortunes. You looked us all in the face and lied to us. And that was for gold alone. Think you I am so simple, so stupid, that I do not know what men will say or do when it comes to sex? Think me so great a fool that I do not see through the lies and promises you might make in order to get what you want from my daughter?”

“Mama, stop, please, you are talking mad!”

“Jasna, you are not of his kind. And I want only to spare you from the heartache I know will come. The dwarves of Erebor will never allow you to become their queen.”

“The dwarves of Erebor,” Thorin growled, “have grown very fond of Miss Stoneham. And if you think I am but feeding her lies in order to sleep with her, let me disabuse you of that notion at once. 

“I know I’ve lied and I know I’ve shattered the trust of Esgaroth’s people. But know this, I do not lie when I say I love Jasna, for I do. With everything I have to give. Feel free to reserve judgment, my lady, for it is no less than I deserve, I suppose, but you will feel very much the fool when the day comes you watch as your daughter and I stand up before friends and family and take those vows, when the day comes that your grandchildren are half-dwarf, because I promise you, it will happen.”

He looked over at Jasna, his eyes softening as he added, “You are both welcome to move to Erebor whenever you wish between now and our wedding. I will have apartments readied for you. You need only send word when you wish to come.”

Mama only stared. “Why would you wish me to come there?”

“Because it would make Jasna happy.”

Jasna bit the inside of her cheek at Mama’s wide-eyed stare of surprise. Mama didn't say anything at first, but then, cleared her throat and said, “You would do that for her?”

“Mrs. Stoneham,” he replied slowly, “I would do anything for her, yes.”

Jasna could only stare at him while Mama said, “Is that so?”

“It is, yes.”

“Well, I suppose that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

Thorin pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. “I suppose it does. And you will see. And I promise, I’ll not hold it against you when you do. Now, Jasna, I will see you tomorrow, perhaps I might steal you away for a bit when you’ve finished with Fíli?”

Mindful of her mother’s hard stare, Jasna nodded slowly. “I think that would be lovely, yes.”

“Good.” He stepped up to her and, ignoring Mama, bent to brush her lips with his. “Until tomorrow then, amrâlimê.”

Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him. 

Jasna turned to Mama. “What are you doing?”

“Jasna, you are very young. Young and sheltered and you know very little of the world.”

“I know so little of—are you serious, Mama? I am n-n-not a child, nor am I innocent and st-st-st-stupid. I know enough of the world. I’ve seen d-death and held life in my hands! I’ve held Thorin’s life in my hands.” Jasna sank onto the arm of the sofa. “And why d-d-do you dislike him so?”

Mama held her stare easily, then her shoulders slumped as she sighed. “I don’t dislike him, love. Not at all. But, I worry for you. I’ve seen you give your heart so willingly, only to have it returned to you in pieces. You have such a bright future ahead of you and I do not want to see that squandered.”

“Mama, my future will still happen. Thorin h-has no problem with m-m-my working in the infirmary.”

“You will be pressured to give him an heir, and then you will have no time to do that.”

“Again, Mama, I will be fine. And it isn’t an heir, it will be a child, and I l-l-look forward to having one.”

“Are you so sure, Jasna?”

“I love him, Mama. And yes, I’m sure.”

Mama sighed once more and moved to wrap her arms about Jasna. “Then I will try to reserve judgement, love. I only want you to be happy.”

“I know. And I am.” Jasna gave her mother a squeeze. “I promise you, I am.”

Thorin leaned against the railing overlooking the treasure hoard. It wouldn’t be long before this cavern would be next in line for renovation and when that happened, the treasure would have to be sorted and moved. It would be divided up, with a some going to the Woodland elves of Mirkwood, and a large portion going to Bard in Dale for the restoration of both Dale and Esgaroth. And it was just as well. The sooner the treasure was divvied up, the more soundly he’d sleep. 

Or so he hoped.

He should have told Jasna the truth out in the courtyard. But seeing how she lit up as they discussed the wedding, he didn't have the heart to puncture her dream just yet. No, better to just let her believe it would come to pass, while he found a way around Dáin’s fool law. Because he would find a way. He’d traversed Middle Earth, fighting orcs and goblins and trolls, came face to face with a fire drake and lived to tell the tale, and nearly died. And all of it was so he could reclaim that which was his birthright. He was Thráin’s heir. Heir to the Throne of Erebor and he’d be damned if he would let his long-dead ancestor determine which woman he took as his wife. He would find a way around the blasted law. 

He just didn't know how yet. 

“Thorin?”

Dis’ voice floated over his shoulder and a moment later, she leaned against the railing alongside him. “What troubles you?”

“What makes you think something troubles me?”

“Well, you said very little at supper, and when you did speak, you seemed very far away. And now, I find you here, alone, staring at the vast wealth that drove our grandfather mad.”

“I’m not going mad again, Dís. I promise you that. In fact, I almost wish I was again. It would make things easier, I think.”

“Make things easier? Thorin, what’s wrong?”

He turned to her, leaning an elbow on the obsidian. “I spoke with Balin earlier. About the laws regarding my marrying a commoner who is not dwarven.”

Dis’ brows lowered as she said, “And why do I have the feeling his words were not what you wanted to hear?”

“Dís, I cannot marry her. Not if I wish to remain on the throne.”

“Royals marry commoners all the time, though.”

“Not dwarves royals,” he told her softly, turning back to toward the hoard, forearms resting on the stone once more, hands clasped. “I can marry Miss Whitbow, or any dwarf I wish. I cannot, however, marry a daughter of Man. As Balin said, it is ironclad and unchangeable.”

“Are you certain?”

“Balin seemed so, yes.” A low sigh rose to his lips. “It seems our great grandfather had the notion one of his descendants would fall in love with someone from Dale. And he feared it enough that he wrote these archaic and idiotic laws.”

Dís sighed softly, aping his position, also staring down at the sea of wealth. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Balin is going through the documents with a fine-tooth comb. If there is a way around it, he will find it. But, as it stands?”  He let his gaze roam over the shiny metals and sparkling gems, along the soot-stained, scorched and scratched stone walls. “If I follow my heart and marry Jasna, I am derelict in my responsibilities to my people. If I accept my responsibilities, and fulfill my duties, I will yet again hurt Jasna and I will be miserable.”

Dís leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Thorin.”

“I don’t know why I expected anything different,” he said, shaking his head. “This is what happens. Mahal has not seen fit for me to be happy for more than the blink of an eye. And no matter which I choose, I will hurt innocent people. And the worst part is,” he looked over at her, “I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to Jasna earlier. I let her keep thinking everything is fine as it is. How do I tell her my great-grandfather deemed her not fit to marry into our family or sit on our throne? How do I tell her that he decided any children she and I would have would also not be fit or acceptable? How do I choose?”

“I cannot answer that for you. But, if you’re asking my opinion? Let me ask you something. When you wake up in the morning, when you go to sleep at night, do you see Jasna beside you or just a body?”

“It isn’t that simple, Dís.” He looked over at her. “And I think you know that.”

“No, it isn’t. But, it’s a valid question all the same and I’ll leave you with that.” She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, then took herself off, leaving him, the treasure hoard, and his gloomy thoughts. 

Life was definitely far less complicated when Erebor was still but a concept, a quest that not a one of them was even certain they’d survive. In Ered Luin, no one would have batted an eye if he chose Jasna Stoneham of Esgaroth to be his wife. No one cared much who a blacksmith married. No one cared much who a king without a kingdom married. There, he’d had steady work, a small stone cottage at the end of a quiet cobblestone lane. There would have been enough for them to afford the house and put food on their table, clothes on their backs, and probably to have a child or two. 

He had to tell her. 

He simply did not know how to. 

#Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here? #Romance #Everybody Lives AU #The Hobbit BOTFA

[braisedhoney]

Okay captain, question. What TOH coven would you be in??

oh shit uhhh… legitimately i have no idea. i’m not even sure i remember all of them tbh, aside from the bard, plant, abomination, illusion, and emperor’s covens. also there's a cat one i think which is tempting but idk what they do? even then thinking about how much i’d procrastinate trying to pick one is both sad and hilarious.

(as much of a cop out as it is, i kinda like the idea of our entire ship being a mess of wild-magic not-space-pirates. we never get involved with the main plot or whatever either, we’re off doing something else on a random-ass floating ship that never touches the ground lmao ;;)

#ney's chatter (ask answers) #i don't know a tooon about toh? #i know the finale is happening like. VERY soon #and i know the main bad guy has KILLER character design #actually all of the designs i've seen are pretty solid #the doll ones are pretty cool #love a good puppet aesthetic. and i'm a sucker for character arcs shown through outfit changes #so luz is cool in my book #the owl house

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 5.b

Haven't commented on this before, but I like how for interludes the header art doesn't have its person in it. Wonder if there's a correlation between which background gets used for which interlude point of views? Or if its just going through in order.

I wonder how Daniel is going to do, if he runs into either of the Kennet Faeries? Neither is from Dark Spring, which should help some, but still.

Clementine was in love, and Clementine had been good to him.  A potential lifetime of love in this gritty, ill-tempered world was worth more than any brief solace he might manage.

that's sweet. He and Avery should talk some more

A narrow sliver on the watch cast out boundaries to define a narrow slice of the town, and within that slice time was passing faster.

is this watch just surfacing due to Gilded Lily, or was it planted to delay Bristow's searchers?

He sang to it in a language it didn’t know it knew.  It took him three tries, and the second nearly scared it off. It approached from the grass. He took it into his hand and he touched it with a gentleness that alleviated it of a short lifetime of anxieties.

Disney princess powers

“You’ll get into a bit of trouble, but I’m promising you magic.  I’ll open your eyes and you’ll see a bit more magic in the world for the rest of your life.  Isn’t that worth it?”

oh this is a bit fucked. I think he means it kindly, but this could put her in danger.

Not old enough to be on her own.  Well, she wasn’t on her own.  She had him and a bird that was happy to perch and listen to his song.  She kept looking back in the direction of her mom, but she followed behind as if she were in fetters.

don't like that phrasing!

Her eyes were a light gray-blue, flecked with gold.  He could stare into them, and he could get lost in them, at least for a moment.

so this is what he meant by he falls in love a little with every woman he meets

Would you take something else in trade? Would it suffice if I struck a pretty enough pose? I know people pay models and I’ve been told I’m very pretty.

:]

Wondering now, since there are three Aware, and Clem already met Avery, if Daniel and whatsherface will each meet a different member of the trio

“And what does paying the bills do for you?” he asked her.  “Does it enrich the soul?  Does it expand you as a person?”

does it spark joy?

“Come with me, walk away from this.  I will show you wonder within the hour, one way or another.”

do not do this

“I’m abducting the girl,” Daniel said, to the old man.

bad !!

“Put me in a cage, if you will.  But you don’t need one, because I don’t imagine I’d run.  I’d sing for you, a songbird, a personal bard.”

so I imagine this would be a great way to get his sister here intent on murder

And your sister would mourn a bloody swathe between the point she learns of your going and the point she finds her understanding

yeah. and I love how mourn is being used in this sentence

He felt sadness swell in his chest.  “…You’re falling to Winter?  You stand on the cusp?”

oh. fuck! not sure what this means for trustworthyness, if he's trying to hold off winter or if he's accepted it.

“I still have adventures and tasks I must see to their natural ends.” “How many? A handful?” The giant was silent. “Three?” Daniel asked. “Two?”

The Carmine Beast's murder investigation? He's still training Lucy, and he hasn't given Verona a gift yet. Does waiting to see what Avery's glamour does count?

And man Daniel is good at this. Starting to understand why the dossier said not use glamour against either sibling

#booksandchainmail reads pale #pale #wildbow