#near death encounter technically

[cambria-writes]

happy update day!

i literally finished this an hour ago, then i ran out for an errand, and now here i am. i've started work on ch9, and i'm already like 30% done.

i don't really know how many more chapters we've got to go; we're just finishing up on episode 5 in this one, next chapter stars in episode 6 so... math says we've got like maybe five chapters to go? i'm probably gonna write eight more lmao i don't know when to stop. i lied cause i almost accidentally posted the wrong chapter lmao but we still got several chapters to go babes!!

my ask box is always open, i love reading your comments, and the taglist is always open!!

...i'm gonna go fix the format of the other fics so everything's consistent now lol we love aesthetic evolution

pairing: eddie munson x reader rating: T-M, each chapter rated individually warnings: guns, active shooting, minor character death, mention of a corpse, lots of swearing, reader passes out, ADND should come with its own warning, DND references in general, kind of an anxiety attack, let me know if i need to tag anything else! word count: 3,365

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓: 𝔄𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔩

March 23rd, 1986

It takes maybe a second, but for that one second, you feel like your body’s being pulled in every single direction at once. Your stomach rises up into your throat and lights burst behind your eyelids, accompanied by the worst, searing pain. The only thing you can think of is not letting go of Eddie’s hand.

And then it stops as soon as it starts.

You’re on your knees, doubled over on the road, gasping for breath. It takes a few seconds of jamming the palms of your hands into your eyes to start seeing again. You think you hear Eddie somewhere off to your right. You struggle getting to your feet, the cold like claws digging into your muscles and your thin sweater is doing nothing to help.

When you feel for your nose, your hand comes away bloody again. Snort and spit out the blood before making your way over to Eddie. He’s at least still mostly standing, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath. He holds an arm out to keep you away while he straightens up.

“I’m good,” He croaks. “Just need a sec.”

“We don’t have a second,” you whisper harshly, moving forward to grab him by the arm. “We need to go.” You don’t listen to his complaints as you start dragging him towards the road. “Mind the vines.”

“The hell do you mean mind the vines?”

“Exactly what I said,” you reply, picking up the pace once Eddie seems to be able to move on his own. “Your lich king uses them to track movement or something, it’s some weird kinda hive mind.”

“Hive mind? You’re kidding me.”

“Wait, hey—don’t do that!” you shout, pulling him back from one of the thicker vines by the side of the road. “You wanna fucking die in this place cause that’s a good way to do it!”

Eddie turns around to look at you and his face is blank for a second. “You’re... really not kidding.”

“Look around you, Ed! Does it look like I’m kidding?” You put your arms out and take a few steps back. “Look, actually look. Does this look like home to you?” You scoff and turn back towards the road. “Come on. It wasn’t too far.”

It takes a bit before you hear Eddie jogging to catch up with you. He stays silent while he walks to your right. You flex your fingers around the handle of the gun and keep staring straight ahead.

“So you...” Eddie trails off, walking a bit closer to brush your shoulders together. “You’ve been having nightmares about this place the whole time?”

“Yep,” you emphasize the P with a pop. “November 1983.”

“Wait, isn’t that when the Byers kid went missing?”

You hum and shrug, take a second to jump over a particularly large vine crossing the road. “Yeah, well. Everything kind of all went to shit from thereon out. Clearly,” you motion vaguely around young. “It hasn’t stopped.”

“So like, how much further?” Eddie asks, and the nervous edge on his voice could probably be heard from a mile down the road.

You take a second to squint and try and look further down the road. There doesn’t seem to be anything for as far as you can see. You grab at Eddie’s arm to make him stop.

“It... it shouldn’t be farther out than this,” you say quietly, turning to look around. “Do you see anything?”

“Nah,” Eddie answers slowly. “I’m not... are you sure this is the right way?”

“I thought so...” you trail off.

When you turn back to face the way you were going down, you get the same creeping feeling at the back of your neck as you did earlier.

“Eddie, I think we need to go back.”

“Oh, now you’re agreeing that this is a terrible idea,” he scoffs.

You’re about to smack him when something snaps in the woods off to your left. You raise your gun and make sure it’s cocked.

“Hey, what the hell was that?” Eddie whispers, side stepping a few feet to get closer to you.

“I don’t know,” you whisper back, keeping your gun aimed at the woods but slowly stepping back. “We should probably—”

Something rushes out of the trees and skitters to a stop in the middle of the road, about thirty or fourty feet ahead of out. You stop breathing for a second, until the thing turns its head towards you, and its entire face opens up with a flower and a a deafening screech.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you back. “take us back, take us back!”

You pull the trigger once and miraculously, despite shaking hands and the missing ability to breathe, you manage to hit the thing straight in whatever it has that passes for a mouth. It lets loose another screech before it starts running right at you.

“What the hell was that for?!” Eddie screams, dragging you back to start running. “We have to go!”

“Shit, shit, shit I’m trying!” you shout back, flailing to grab a hold of Eddie’s arm. “Stay still!”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

You dig your heels in to make Eddie stop and pull him back to you. You can hear the thumping of the monster running behind you, but you close your eyes against everything anyways.

The sound of feet hitting pavement fades away with the screech and Eddie’s screaming. And for a second, again, you feel that weightlessness and gut-wrench. When the ground meets your feet again, though, you don’t have any strength in your legs left to hold you up and you crumple in the middle of the road, boneless.

“Fuck, fuck!” Eddie screams, and you can barely lift your head to look at him. When you do, your vision is too blurry to make anything out.

You do, however, see a body on the pavement, just behind him.

“Ed,” you whisper, pulling an arm out from under you. “Ed, be... behind you,” you choke out, pointing.

“Wh-what are you,” he starts, but stumbles back clean onto his ass after he turns around. “Holy shit,” he whimpers, twisting to look back at you. “He—Chrissy—”

“Ed,” you mumble, letting your cheek rest back on the road. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna pass out.”

“What? Wait, no, no, no—”

The funny thing about unconsciousness is that it’s not quite a lack of consciousness. It’s like you can feel and hear everything in bursts, but only in some kind of periphery.

You can feel yourself being carried, kind of, and you can hear someone talking, almost, but none of it ever feels close enough to properly register, and you can barely remember any of it a few seconds after you almost feel it.

When you open your eyes again, it’s still pitch black outside if the curtained window is anything to go by, but there’s light coming from down the hallway from the bedroom. Your whole body aches—you can feel scrapes on your legs against your jeans and your palms are burning. There’s a headache blooming behind your eyes again, and it nearly burns every time you breathe in through your nose.

When you groan and try to roll over, you entirely miscalculate how far the edge of the bed is, and fall clean off when you can’t get your legs around in time. The sound must clearly alert Eddie in whichever part of the house he’s in, because no sooner does your head meet the floor do you hear clattering, swearing, and furious stomping down the hall. You’ve managed to prop yourself up on your elbows by the time he reaches the doorway.

“H-hey, you,” you try to greet casually, but the migraine splitting your skull is making it hard to get anything else out.

“Don’t “hey you” me you fucking menace,” Eddie grumbles, moving over to reach under your arms to help you back up to sit on the bed. He crouches in front of you when you’re settled, elbows on his knees and head hanging with a sigh. “You mind telling me what happened and why you felt the unrestrained need—“ Eddie cuts himself off when his voice begins to rise and he sees you visibly wince at the volume. “Sorry, sorry. Just, what happened?”

You shrug and pinch your eyes shut. “I really don’t know. It’s like that second plane shift took it all out of me.” Eddie nods for a second, but seems to realize something and shakes his head furiously.

“Yeah, okay, that’s good to know and everything, but I was talking about that freaky dog thing that ran right for us with the venus fly trap face.”

You snort at the description but stay quiet for a second, trying to think through the migraine. “Henderson called them, uh… Demodogs? I think? They’re like the Demogorgon but quadrupedal instead of bipedal.”

You can hear Eddie cursing Dustin under his breath before he puts his hands on your knees. “Anything else you can tell me?”

You frown and shake your head a bit. “Any-anything else? What—”

“I dunno, like, how to kill them? What they’re susceptible to? Literally anything?”

You bring your hands up to your face and dig your fingers into your eyes. “I can’t-I can’t think. Can you get my painkillers or something? My head’s killing me.”

Eddie rushes out of the room without a word. You let yourself fall back on the bed. Try to recall the nightmares from before. There was that time two years ago when Chief Hopper was stuck in the tunnels and he managed to clear the vines with fire… so maybe your harebrained thought of making a flamethrower wasn’t too absurd after all.

“Here,” Eddie says, entering the room while shaking a pill bottle out into his hand. He caps it back up and grabs the bottle of water he had wedged under his arm and hands it to you.

You sit back up with a groan and whisper your thanks. Twist open the bottle, accept and throw back the pills, and drain half the bottle in one go. When you gasp and wipe your mouth, you take the time to properly look at Eddie.

He’s pale, clearly shaken up. And now that you’re paying attention, you can see the trembling of his hands on his knees as he crouches in front of you, and you can make out a bead of sweat going down his neck. You reach out to wipe away a smear of something from his cheekbone with your thumb.

Your nose feels itchy and your eyes are burning. “I’m sorry,” you breathe. Swallow thickly. “I-I’m so sor—”

“Hey, no,” Eddie mutters, holding onto the wrist nearest his face and bringing his other hand up behind your neck. “Hey, none of this is your fault. We’re both just caught up in some bullshit, we didn’t ask for it. You’re good.” He gives the back of your neck a squeeze and you let yourself fall into his shoulder. “You’re good. We’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.”

“Man I’m sorry for crying you much,” you choke out between sobs, grabbing at Eddie’s denim vest. “I just—I can’t—”

“None of that.” The fact that you can hear the shaking in Eddie’s voice tears a desperate wail from you. “It’s okay, just let it out. Just let it out.”

And you do.

All the fear and the frustration, the confusion; you sob it out. The consuming rage of not being listened to, of being called insane; the confusion of never knowing when you’ll end up in that-that hellscape again, and whether or not it’s going to be real; the certainty that if you talk about what happens to you again that you’ll just be sent back to another hospital. Maybe permanently this time.

Worst of all is the knowing, now, that all your nightmares were real. Maybe the details were off, here and there, but the people you saw dead died. There is another Hawkins and there are monsters there. And, for some god forsaken reason, you can go there.

“Hey,” you hear Eddie whisper your name. “Can-can you breathe with me? Can you do that?” he asks, and the fingers at the back of your neck start to scratch lightly at your nape. It takes a second, but you nod; you know you’re hyperventilating, now that the crying has stopped, and you know you need to get a grip. “Alright, okay,” Eddie continues, resting his chin on top of your head. “In seven, hold for two, out for four. Got it? In seven, hold two, out four.”

You nod again, and try inhaling when he does. When you start coughing, he whispers that it’s okay, and you try again. After a few failed attempts, and once the burning in your chest starts subsiding, you finally manage to match your breathing to the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest.

“There you go,” he sighs on the exhale, giving the back of your neck one last squeeze before moving his hands to your shoulders and pulling you away just enough to get a good look at you. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” you whisper back, doing your best to offer a watery smile. Take a deep breath. “Thanks. For helping.”

“Well, hey,” Eddie chuckles, patting your right shoulder. “Thanks for not letting me get eaten by a freaky carnivorous plant dog.” You close your eyes and let yourself laugh, even if it’s still a bit shaky.

“Yeah,” you nod, patting him on the chest. “Well. Can’t let my therapist die in a parallel universe. Who else is gonna listen to my bullshit?”

Eddie helps you to your feet once you feel like you’ve got a good enough grasp on yourself again. Mentions that he’s been poring over his books since he brought you back to the house for lack of a better thing. Has been checking in on you every other hour to make sure you were still breathing. Cleaned your face off, because it was ‘covered in blood like you’d walked straight out of Carrie or something’.

“Did you let the others know what happened?” you ask once you’re sat at the table with the rest of your bottle of water. Looking around you can see that Eddie’s covered the windows nearby with blankets, cushions and other fabric you think might be clothes. The lantern in the center of the table casts enough light to see most everything around you, including several books laid out and overlapping on the table.

“Yeah,” he grunts, letting himself down on the chair. He waves you off when you frown in concern. “They’re all a little… occupied right now, but one of the brats should come with their designated escort later.”

“You mean Harrington,” you correct, a bit absently, pulling one of the D&D books closer to you. A quick flip of the cover tells you it’s the Dungeon Master’s guide. “Did you find anything interesting while I was passed out?”

“Actually,” Eddie starts, flipping covers and going through the books on the table before he pulls one out from beneath the guide you have in front of you. It’s thin, and you never would’ve known it was there. “I felt so stupid not thinking of it first but… here.” He slaps his hand down and flattens the booklet before spinning it around to hand it over to you. “Right there,” he points to the page on your right.

“This… is this a spell list?” you ask, a little bit incredulously.

“The magic-user spell list yeah—that’s not the point. Look,” he leans over the table to tap at a column at the bottom of the right page. “The ninth level spells.”

“Gate,” you breathe, frowning and leaning down closer. “Astral Spell, Power Word: Kill…” You bring your hand up to the book and look at the other columns. “Telekenesis, Wizard Eye, Projected Image, Dimension Door—”

“Everything you’ve seen,” Eddie starts, slowly lowering himself back down in his chair. “All of it, it’s all there. Even the monster shit, it’s all there.”

You let out a quiet gasp, and turn the page. You zero in on the title at the top of the left page:

SPELLS TABLE

Clerics

“Hold up,” up say, raising your hand over the table and motioning to be handed something. “I’m not seeing plane shift in here.” You look up at Eddie, who seems to take a second before registering what you’ve said before snapping his fingers and going through a few books on the table before picking up up and passing it over.

“It’s, uh, I think it’s page fourty?”

You flip through the pages and land on the one mentioned, and there it is at the bottom. The cleric spell list.

“There is it,” you exclaim, pointing down and looking up. “Plane shift.” You look back down at the page and frown, “This is level five shit though. I don’t know that…”

“Don’t, you don’t know that what,” Eddie asks after you stay quiet for a few seconds. You flip through a few more pages, take a second to read and lean back in your chair.

“True Seeing,” you say quietly, gesturing at the book. “I mean, I definitely don’t need some kind of-of mushroom ointment for my eyes, but that sounds about right.”

“Anything else sound familiar?” Eddie asks, clasping his hands in front of him over the book on the table. You bite your lip and look down again, sigh and shrug.

“I-I mean I don���t know? Augury, maybe, I guess?” You let a hand trail down the columns. “I really don’t know, most of this shit just kind of happens to me, I don’t exactly try to do any of it.”

“But you tried with Plane Shift,” Eddie points out, taking the book back and flipping it around to take a look at it. “And you’ve basically done Astral Spell before even if you were kind of, y’know. Unconscious.”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at the man sitting across from you. “You’re not actually suggesting I do what I think you’re suggesting I do.”

Eddie’s grin could split his face with how wide it is.

“No. No, absolutely not,” you growl out, slamming your hands down on the table. “Are you forgetting that just the plane shifting almost got us killed? How about the part where I passed the fuck out as soon as I got us back? The bleeding? Nuh-uh,” you conclude, crossing you arms again and kicking the table. “No fucking way.”

“Come on,” Eddie pleads, putting his elbows and slapping his hands together almost supplicantly. “It can be something easy, totally inconsequential. Like,” he looks down between his elbows before looking back up. “Cure Light Wounds! You get a papercut—”

“Boy, are you stupid—”

“Or what about Silence? Speak With Animals should be—”

“Eddie!”

He flinches back a bit in his seat, but otherwise puts his hands up in surrender. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in irritation.

“I’m not a test subject, Ed,” you whisper, letting your hand fall down in your lap and giving him a look you hope is just shy of begging. “Right now I just. Can we just like, get high and pig out on junk food or something?”

Eddie sighs and has the decency to look apologetic. “I don’t have anything on me, princess. Kind of didn’t really have the time to grab anything when we…”

He trails off and you don’t need to hear the rest of the sentence. “Right, well at least we have beer,” you say as you get up and head over to the fridge. “You did put it in the fridge right?”

“Yeah, but I mean, shouldn’t you be drinking, like, water or something a little more—”

“I just woke up from passing the fuck out after basically teleporting us twice and dodging a hellhound in literal, actual hell,” you call from the fridge. You pick up two bottles, scoff and put them back in the case before taking the whole thing out. “I deserve a fucking break from this bullshit.”

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@anothermunsonsimp @doratheignora @storiesbyrhi

#ravenloft #stranger things #eddie munson #jason carver #unfortunately #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #second person pov #guns #shooting #demodog encounter #dnd reference #adnd should come with its own warning tbh #swearing #cussing #near death encounter technically #fanfiction #fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #sorry patrick #i'm probably gonna find a way to retcon some characters deaths btw #holler if you read the tags and saw that

[radiance1]

Vlad owned a cookbook.

Keyword, owned.

But you see, it was far from an ordinary cookbook.

It was a bit magical in nature, not on any purpose of Vlad's part, despite being the one to make it. It was created a while after Vlad stopped having an obsession with Maddie and became on somewhat better terms with Jack, in which he decided to entirely ignore one Daniel Fenton.

Instead, he focused on creating the perfect cookbook that has ever graced the mortal plane. Made from the highest leather, the best finest paper and bound together with the best thread he could find.

All helpfully sourced from the Ghost Zone.

Of course, after all of that he had to, well, fill it with recipes.

He had multiple duplicates scouring the internet for various recipes, and since it's for personal use he doesn't have to care for copyright or whatever since it won't be used by anyone but him. While also looking around in the Ghost Zone for specific types of ghosts.

Mostly grannies.

Overtime and with help from his multiple duplicates his cookbook has quickly become filled up, though for some reason there seemed to be an endless number of pages left unfinished, doesn't matter since it's just more space.

Then he started to encounter the spirits of witches, wizards, warlocks, shamans. You get it.

He took recipes from them too, because when he meant this would be the greatest cookbook, he meant it, and what is potion making if not Alchemy, and what is Alchemy if not cooking?

So, after some time, with blood, sweat, and tears being poured into his book with recipes from everywhere and his own personal recipe along with few decorations here and there, making it look less like a common book and more like the prized treasure it truly is, and Vlad's work is finally complete.

The greatest cookbook to ever grace the mortal plane.

He went to sleep happy, woke up the next day happy, used his newfound cookbook happily and was overall having the greatest of times.

He also found out that his cookbook became sentient. Which is nice, because he can just call out a page and it'll flip right through to it, but he doesn't recall how it became sentient.

He's been watching it carefully before completion, and every time it came in contact with ectoplasm it never became sentient like the food the Fentons produce (And yes, living food is indeed within the endless pages of his book), so it maybe had something to do with the more magical recipes contained within.

Not that he cared, really, since it served it's purpose extremely well.

Except, a few months later, with a visit from the Fentons to his mansion, he finds he lost it.

Vlad, predictably, is in shambles.

Is it because his cookbook is a genuine danger to society if in the wrong hands?

No.

Perhaps because contained within its pages are high level alchemical recipes?

No.

Or maybe because there was a recipe to create some kind of potion to kill an immortal, make someone immortal, or reverse death? (Honestly he didn't even remember where he got that one)

Fuck no.

He's in shambles because he didn't even get to use a quarter of the recipes that weren't even his own.

Also, because it's became his technical technically both his son and best friend.

Who does he accuse first?

One Danny Fenton.

Because it only disappeared after Danny came to visit, and while he wouldn't put it past Jack to do something incredibly stupid, the man was nowhere near his book at the time!

Danny, predictably, is not at all amused.

Vlad then pesters him to go out and search for his missing greatest creation and doesn't stop until Danny agrees.

So, now Danny has to find a cookbook that can and probably is a genuine danger to society if someone decides to use the far less than normal recipes.

Also, why the fuck did Vlad even have them??

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Hmmm #I could already feel some people tagging this as Ghost King Danny since that's a really popular hc #or maybe not #Anywho #I was going to refute that hc but now I'm genuinely considering it #Mah #I'll leave it up to whoever finds this post #Right #Did I mention that Vlad's Cookbook may or may not have a recipe to create #both a false and genuine god? #Teehee #You won't even know if I'm being serious or not

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can I request Yandere Rin with a Female Tanjiro Reader? She can smell he’s Half Demon, but rather fear or hate him she treats him the same, with kindness like everyone else (She tells him it’s because she can tell he’s not a bad person, as he doesn’t have the scent of malice, evil nor death like the demons she’s encountered)

Especially since he’s the son of the Demon King, (He though she was going to hate him but she explains that it’s a completely different Demon King that massacred her family, and just because he’s Half Demon, she’s won’t take her anger out on him, because it wasn’t him that killed her family, so why should he pay for that?)

Rin likes Nezuko since she’s so nice to him as well, but in a platonic ‘big brother’ way (He was ready to start bawling when Reader told him that Nezuko is comfortable with him because she already sees him as ‘family’)

Yandere Rin x Tanjiro Reader

While that’d be cute I don’t think Rin being a demon would be much of a problem for you

If you’re transported into the world of the Blue exorcist

The ‘demons’ you’re dealing with are very very different

And technically they’re nowhere near the same level of danger

Rin’s demon king isn’t the same as Muzan and thus they have a different smell

A different kind of exorcism

One that you’re sympathetic to 

Here you can learn a spirit’s deepest fears and exorcise them with kindness

A luxury you don’t have in your world

But leave it to Rin to be ecstatic to have a fellow friendly swordsman 

You both get along so well 

An ultimate sunshine duo that quickly becomes the heart of your friend group 

You’re both so fluffy and soft that they sometimes forget the actual origin of their friend

“Oi oi (Y/n) said not to bother them. So you’re not going to bother Nezukuro…Right?!” 

He’s protective of you and Nezukuro

He does cry when your demon brother puts his little hand on his

That’s obvious permission to marry you

Isn’t just perfect 

The sweet katana exorcist with the half-demon blue exorcist

He can see it now 

All he’s got to do is protect you 

You’re so soft, so kind

It just awakens that possessive half-demon in him

#yandere rin okumura #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yanderes #yandere #yandere rin #yandere blue exorcist #yandere ao no excorcist #yandere blue exorcist x demonslayer

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [7] - Marigolds

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback and support my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Love can be cruel to heart.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms.

Word Count: 5300

Series Masterlist

Technically, you knew it was a bad idea to stay under the scorching sun for hours, working in your garden without a water bottle by your side or your hat on your head.

You knew that very well but in your defense, you hadn’t really noticed the time passing.

“Auntie, how much longer are you going to act like I’m about to say my last words?” you asked as she shushed you, tucking the corners of the heavy covers into the bed, almost trapping you there.

“I’m glad you find a near death experience amusing.”

“Near death exp—I stood up too fast and passed out for what, five seconds?”

Your maid wrung the cloth in ice cold water, then came to press it on your wrists, making you heave a sigh.

“Thank you Paula but it’s honestly not necessary-”

“Fainting is a serious issue that has a lot of people in its clutches Y/N,” your aunt said solemnly. “It’s no topic to be made light of.”

“I doubt it counts as fainting.”

“The doctor said it does,” she said and took another cloth to press it on your forehead, shaking her head. “Heat exhaustion, he said. We’re blessed that we didn’t lose you.”

“The doctor also said I would be alright in a couple of hours auntie,” you pointed out. “So before you call the priest here for my final confession—”

“Y/N!” she chided you, making you grin at her but before you could say anything, your uncle knocked on the doorframe as Teddy wheezed past him to throw himself into your arms.

“Teddy, careful dear,” your aunt said. “We don’t want to overexert your sister.”

He nodded shyly and looked up at you.

“Sorry. Are you better now?”

You pressed a kiss on his forehead and smiled at him.

“I’m absolutely fine,” you said. “I assure you. Were you worried?”

He chewed on his lip, nodding again as he played with your hair and you wrapped your arms around him.

“It was just too much sun, Teddy,” you said. “That’s it.”

“Do you need anything Clover?” your uncle asked and you shook your head.

“No I’m alright. Thank you uncle.”

“Howard,” your aunt said, putting her hands on her hips. “I think we should call the doctor again.”

“We should not,” you told her and your uncle repressed a chuckle.

“Well, considering you had a close encounter with Hades…”

“Not you too!”

“Who’s Hades?” Teddy mumbled and you grinned.

“Um, the doctor my sweet.”

“I took it upon me to tell your suitors you’re in no condition to accept any visits until further notice.”

Your head shot up and you cleared your throat.

“That’s a good idea, thank you,” you managed to say. “I still feel a bit faint to be honest.”

Your aunt gasped as Paula put the cloth in the water again, but you stopped her and winked at her, making her bite down a smile.

“See, I told you!” your aunt said. “Of course you cannot receive any suitors while you’re like this, and no attending balls until you’re in better health either, I will not hear it.”

“Oh no,” you deadpanned. “That’s so sad.”

“And no spending time in the garden either.”

“What?” you asked as your eyes widened. “Auntie!”

“And when it’s time, you will wear a hat and carry an umbrella with you,” she said, holding up a hand as you opened your mouth to argue. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I will tell the cook to change today’s menu, and get you as much fruit juice as possible.”

“But—” you started but she walked out of the room completely ignoring your protests. You leaned back with a sigh.

“She worries too much.”

“You know how she is when it comes to you and Teddy,” your uncle said and came to sit beside the bed. “Teddy, why don’t you let Paula take you to the kitchen? So that you can tell the cook to make that drink you like for you and Y/N.”

“That sounds like a good idea!” you said and Teddy shook his head, making you frown. “No?”

“No,” he muttered, still holding you tight and you exchanged glances with your uncle.

“Why not?” you asked. “You like chocolate milk. We can even put pieces of cookies into it the way you like.”

He shook his head again and frowned up at you.

“If you’re sick, I will stay here to protect you.”

You could swear your heart melted as a smile curled your lips, and you rubbed his back.

“And I’m sure you would do a wonderful job at that, but I’m not sick,” you said. “Do you remember how you scraped your knee the last summer and I was very worried but you were alright?”

He nodded.

“It’s just like that,” you said. “I will rest a little and I will be fine. But you know what would make me feel much better?”

“What?”

“Those figures you make for me from twigs.”

He gasped and sat up straight. “Really?”

“Yes,” you said. “Would you make one for me while I rest?”

He nodded fervently and kissed you on the cheek, then ran out of the room. Paula took a look at you.

“My lady, shall I keep an eye on him?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” you said and she walked out of the room. Your uncle gave you a smile and ruffled your hair, making you let out a small laugh.

“Are you sure you’re not dying?”

“Quite sure,” you said. “Do you think auntie will be alright though?”

“Not until she is convinced you rested enough,” your uncle said. “So, I wanted to ask you. I know I told your suitors you would not accept them at this time but do you want me to make any exceptions for any of them?”

You frowned. “Like who?”

“Like a certain artist if he visits?”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in the bed, crossing your arms. “He’s not my suitor.”

“Do you wish him to be?”

You scoffed, making a face.

“I would never marry him,” you said. “It’s a good thing that he’s not courting me officially, saves both of us from wasting our time.”

He tilted his head. “Clover.”

“It’s just Lady Whistledown’s gossip.”

“Your aunt thinks you two have feelings for each other.”

“Benedict Bridgerton seems to have feelings for a lot of ladies in the ton, I wouldn’t assume it’s anything special for me.”

“And you?”

“I do have feelings for him,” you said, making him raise his brows. “Vexation is the first one that comes to mind. Ire too. While we’re at it, let’s also throw in some exasperation—”

“Alright,” he said with a chuckle and held up his hands in a mock of surrender. “And not an ounce of affection beneath all that?”

You pursed your lips, the sight of him at the greenhouse shooting through your mind. Even the thought was enough to make your heart beat faster and as much as you would have loved to lie to yourself—

No.

You couldn’t even entertain that idea.

Yes, perhaps you didn’t dislike his presence as much as you pretended to, and maybe your eyes had started searching for him in every outing lately but you couldn’t let that cloud your judgement.

He was attractive, there was no denying it, but that was all there was to this strange feeling.

“Clover?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at him. “Huh?”

A smile curled his lips and he shook his head with a sigh.

“You know,” he said. “I find it quite ironic that you keep using the same approach with your suitors but are unable to see it for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my dear,” your uncle said, giving you a knowing look. “Silence is an answer too sometimes.”

You pulled back, swallowing thickly and he stood up.

“Do try to rest a little,” he said. “I’m sure you need it. And just see whether you will miss him until you see him again.”

You let out a breath as he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving you alone. You shook your head and pressed your palms over your eyes, slipping further into the covers.

“I had too much sun,” you muttered to yourself. “That’s all.”

                                           *

After three days of complete rest, you were about to lose your mind. You really wanted to go and check your garden and you had almost managed to sneak out until your aunt caught you by the door and insisted that you kept resting in your room.

“It’s not as if there’s a lack of flowers there,” she had told you and even if you hated to admit, she was right.

Somehow.

Your suitors, after hearing of your so called sickness had all decided to send you flowers and now your room was filled with multiple bouquets of roses and tulips and forget-me-nots. Ironically you couldn’t even put a face on the name of the lord who sent you the forget-me-nots, but since your aunt had told you not to exert yourself, you weren’t even going to strain your mind about that.

Daphne and Charlotte had visited you earlier yesterday, and apparently Benedict had accompanied them but your uncle had told him you were in no condition to accept anyone except your lady friends.

You didn’t want to scream out loud when you had heard of him doing so, not at all.

You knew exactly what your uncle was doing. He was trying to see whether you would want to see Benedict after a couple of days of not talking to him, to prove to you that you would miss him more than you cared to admit. You couldn’t decide what was more annoying, the fact that your uncle was right or that you hadn’t been subtle at all when you told him you “didn’t mind” if Benedict decided to visit.

“Not to overexert you of course,” your aunt said as she walked to smell the newest bouquet of flowers in the vase. “But I was thinking tomorrow evening we could go see a play?”

“Anything to get me out of the house, yes,” you said almost too quickly. “And to repeat, I’m not overexerted. I’m completely alright auntie.”

“Thankfully,” she said and touched the roses. “Aren’t they beautiful? Who sent them?”

“Lord Brumley,” you said with a wave of hand. “What’s the play?”

“Taming of the Shrew,” she said. “You’ll like it I’m sure.”

You tilted your head at her, narrowing your eyes and she shot you a smile.

“What?” she said. “I said nothing.”

“Auntie—”

“My lady?” Paula knocked on the door. “Lord Thorne says Mr. Bridgerton is here if you wish to see him.”

You could swear your heart leaped to your throat as you sat up straight in bed.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out a bit high pitched before you cleared your throat, frowning while your aunt suppressed her smile.

“That’s nice of him,” she commented and you nibbled on your lip, then fixed your gown.

“He may come here,” you managed to say before you turned to your aunt. “Auntie…”

“Paula stays right here,” she said and you nodded.

“Of course,” you said and she walked out of the room, greeting Benedict outside. Paula approached the nearest vase to make herself look busy, giving you as much privacy as she could considering the circumstances and you shot her a small smile, then turned your head when you heard the knock on the doorframe.

You couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your stomach if you tried, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.

“Miss Y/N,” he said as he bowed and stepped into the room. It didn’t escape your attention that unlike your other suitors, he hadn’t brought you any flowers—

Not that he was your suitor, or that you wanted any flowers from him.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted him back as if your heart wasn’t pacing against your ribcage and he looked around the room, raising his brows.

“Roses and tulips,” he commented. “Your favorites.”

You repressed a small smile and shrugged your shoulders. “And surprisingly no Venus Flytraps.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at you before he let out a breath, his soft gaze focused on you.

“How do you feel?” he asked. “Charlie says it was heat exhaustion?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It was nothing.”

“I doubt it was nothing, she says you passed out.”

“For five seconds,” your reply came quick. “It doesn’t even count.”

“It sounds like it does.”

You rolled your eyes.

“A man of many talents, are you not?” you asked. “Benedict Bridgerton, the artist, eligible bachelor and now doctor.”

“Oh look at that, you’re back,” he teased back. “I was beginning to go through withdrawals after three days of no snark from you.”

“Not to worry, I spent those three days saving some for you,” you answered and his expression turned from amused to gentle.

“But are you certain you’re alright?” he asked. “Did the doctor say so?”

A warmth spread through your chest and you cleared your throat.

“I’m more than ready to be up and about and insult you in any kind of outing,” you deadpanned. “I can start now if you want. Beginning early and everything.”

He tilted his head and motioned at you. “Do your worst.”

“You seem quite tired and sleepless,” you noted. “Have you been getting enough inspiration lately?”

A surprised chuckle escaped from his lips, the pleasant sound making you bite back a smile.

“On another thought, I don’t want to know. Please spare me the details or the general idea.”

“Y/N—” he started but you widened your eyes and stole a look at Paula who was still in the room. He followed your gaze before turning to you and took a deep breath, then cleared his throat.

“Miss Y/N,” he corrected himself. “I uh…I’d better leave you to your rest.”

You could feel your stomach drop but you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m grateful for your visit, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“And I’m grateful that you’re alright,” he said and took a step to the door but then turned around.

“I almost forgot,” he said as he reached into the inner pocket of his waistcoat to pull out a folded paper, and placed it on your bedside. “Get well soon, Miss Y/N.”

He bowed and walked out of the room, making you frown and reach out to get the paper before you unfolded it with nimble fingers, a breath leaving your lips as soon as your eyes fell upon what was inside.

You would have recognized it anywhere.

He had painted you a small picture of Middlemist Red, your favorite flower. You blinked a couple of times, the warmth rushing through your face and you let a smile pull at your lips as you traced the brush strokes with your fingertips, nearly mesmerized.

He had brought you a flower after all, and he had managed to bring you your favorite.

You pushed the covers off of you and approached the painting of a garden hung on the wall before you carefully tucked the paper to the frame, then stepped back to look at it better.

“It’s very beautiful my lady,” Paula said and you turned to her, barely aware of the smile lighting up your face.

“Yes,” you managed to say. “Yes, it really is.”

                                            *

Thankfully your aunt was finally convinced that you weren’t going to drop dead all of a sudden so this play -though it was not your favorite- was going to be a nice distraction from the last couple of days. Charlotte had found you the minute you stepped foot into the building and whisked you away from your aunt who already seemed eager to talk to Lady Danbury.

“…So then Mr. Fairfax asked me to see him in the garden after the dance.”

Your eyes widened. “Lottie, please tell me you said no.”

“Of course I said no!” she said quickly. “My mama would lose her mind if I were ever alone with a man. Not that she had much to worry about, because I happened to mention Mr. Fairfax’s request to Benedict and he looked very angry for some reason, then nearly dragged Mr. Fairfax out of the ballroom!”

Your heart skipped a beat but you sipped your drink just so that you could act normal.

“Good,” you commented and Lottie tilted her head to the side.

“What do you think Mr. Fairfax wanted to talk to me about in the garden?”

You heaved a sigh, Charlotte was too sweet for this world.

“I have no idea but I doubt it was anything good,” you said and looked around, trying to distract her. “It’s very beautiful here, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes!” she said. “Is this the first time you’re here?”

“Mm hm. You?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been here a couple of times, they hold wonderful plays here. Not that anything they put on stage can beat the rooftop, but…”

“There’s a rooftop here?”

“Oh my God yes!” she said, reaching out to hold your arm. “You simply must see it! Perhaps we can go up there after the play and watch the stars—I swear, it’s the best view in London.”

“You’re raising my expectations, I hope you know that,” you said with a smile but before she could say anything else, your aunt approached you.

“Miss Harlowe,” she said. “Do you mind if I borrow my niece for a moment?”

“No of course not,” she said and your aunt linked her arm with yours, and slowly led you away from her.

“It’s a shame our seats are so away from each other,” you said, “I’d quite like Lottie’s commentary on the play.”

“Clover my dear,” your aunt said. “I was wondering, what do you think of Lord Shaw?”

You pulled your brows together. “Uh…I don’t think of him,” you said. “Why?”

“I just talked to him,” she said. “He wants to ask your uncle for your hand in marriage.”

That was enough to make you stop dead in your tracks, your heart dropping down to your stomach. You could feel the fear filling you and you tried to find your voice that seemed to have disappeared all of a sudden.

“Auntie…”

“Obviously the decision is all yours dearest, and if—no?” she asked as you shook your head fervently, breathing hard.

“I don’t…” you swallowed thickly. “I don’t want him. I don’t want him as a husband.”

“Alright, then your uncle will turn him down in your behalf.”

Fixing your breathing felt nearly impossible. “Will he?”

She looked at you with a soft look on her face and rubbed at your arm.

“My dearest, we would never, ever force you to marry somebody you don’t wish to,” she asked. “I assumed you did not like him, but I wanted to ask you to be sure.”

“I’m sure,” you said, fear still keeping you tight in its cold clutch. “No I don’t—I don’t want to marry him.”

“Then you will not marry him,” she assured you as they announced that the play was about to start. Your aunt pulled you to your seat and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Benedict walking into the theatre with Colin to sit beside Charlotte but you were too lost in your thoughts to even turn your head.

If the proposals had started coming…

It wasn’t that you didn’t know it would happen when you debuted. After all, your uncle was very wealthy and your dowry was huge, so it was no wonder you would receive proposals but you hadn’t really stopped to think about the actual possibility of marriage this soon.

It was alright. It was going to be alright, you weren’t going to get married to someone you didn’t want, and you were going to find someone that fit your criteria, and—

And then you would be experiencing every aspect of marriage.

Where had the air disappear to in this goddamn theatre?

You took a look at the stage to see the actors and actresses taking their places and you forced yourself to inhale just so that you could get some air into your lungs. You gritted your teeth, then touched your aunt’s hand.

Charlotte was sitting far away from you and your aunt didn’t have her glasses on.

“Auntie, I think Charlotte is still outside,” you said. “I just remembered I needed to tell her something, I’ll be right back.”

“But Clover, the play has already started.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said and stood up from your seat, painfully aware of Benedict’s gaze on you but you walked out of the theatre into the hallway without so much as a glance back. You rubbed at your wrist, your heart still beating in your ears.

You didn’t want to be seen by anyone, and you desperately needed somewhere you could pull yourself together—

The rooftop.

You gathered up your skirts to lift them a little, then rushed to the stairs to ascend them until you reached the very top, and pushed open the door to step outside, the cool weather hitting your burning face. You closed your eyes for a moment, then opened them and approached the edge, a breath of awe leaving your lips.

Charlotte was right, the view was gorgeous.

You had to have stared at the view of the city for almost a minute before the sound of the door opening made you turn your head to look over your shoulder, that familiar warmth making its way through the icy cold of the fear in your chest.

“Let me guess,” Benedict said, “You hate Shakespeare as well?”

You pressed your lips together, then turned your gaze to the view again.

“I like some of his plays,” you said. “And before you ask, Romeo and Juliet is not among them, no.”

“That’s shocking.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“Charlie assumed you couldn’t wait to see the rooftop,” he stated and you nodded.

“I guess that’s true in a way,” you commented before you fixed your skirts, then sat down on the ground. Benedict approached you and hesitated for a moment.

“May I?”

“Go ahead, I’m not the owner of the building.”

He shot you that crooked grin of his before he sat beside you.

“Are you alright?”

You bit inside your cheek and stole a look at him, then nodded.

“Yes,” you said, making sure to keep your expression flat. “I suppose I needed some fresh air after being cooped up in the house for days.”

“Is that the only reason you’re here?”

No.

No, of course it was not.

The reason was that you couldn’t even imagine being married to someone without feeling as if all the air was pulled out of your lungs, but you couldn’t exactly say that. You rubbed at your wrist as you looked up at the sky so that you could avoid looking at him, then laid on your back, curling an arm behind your head. The glimmering stars were so beautiful in the dark sky that for a moment you wanted to tell him to look up, but all his attention seemed to be on you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft. “What is it?”

You rolled your eyes.

“If you’re going to keep smothering me with your questions, I may reconsider my decision about letting you stay.”

“I thought you said you weren’t the owner of the building.”

“I can pretend otherwise if need be,” you said. “Your presence is much more enjoyable if it’s not accompanied by questions.”

He tilted his head. “I thought you hated my presence.”

“You have your moments,” you pointed out. “Very rare moments, and it seems that right now is not one of them.”

He shot you a roguish smirk. “I’m still taking that as a good sign.”

“You do that quite a lot,” you remarked before you raised a hand to trail it in the air, following the shape of the stars. “It’d be one less thing to worry about if I were dead, I tell you. I wouldn’t have to deal with suitors.”

He pulled his brows together. “Yes because you’d be dead.”

“Yet here I am, constantly subjected to suitors and their nonsense,” you muttered and sat up. “Go on then.”

He looked a bit confused. “Hm?”

“You’re here, so you might as well make your presence useful,” you said. “Entertain me.”

His smile was too irresistible, and that was why you refused to look his way but you hadn’t expected him to lean back on his palms and take a look at the sky.

“As my lady wishes. Do you know what that constellation is?” he asked, pointing at a couple of stars and you followed his line of sight, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “What is it?”

“Andromeda.”

“Judging by my limited knowledge of mythology, I’m going to go on a limb and say Zeus had something to do with that.”

He let out a chuckle. “Not really.”

“No?”

“No,” he said, “Andromeda was this… beautiful princess of Aethiopia. She was so beautiful that her mother Cassiopeia started saying she was more beautiful than Nereids, Poseidon’s daughters.”

You hissed in a breath. “Hubris. Bad idea in Greek mythology.”

“Very bad idea,” he nodded. “As you can tell, Poseidon doesn’t take that kindly.”

“Of course not.”

“So he sends a sea monster to ravage their coasts to punish the king and the queen for their hubris,” Benedict said. “The king asks his oracle for a solution, and the oracle tells him he has to sacrifice Andromeda, that there is no other way.”

You made a face. “I don’t like this story.”

Benedict grinned. “But,” he said. “As fate would have it, when they tie Andromeda to a rock for the sea monster to take her, Perseus happens to be flying over there on his winged sandals, having just slain Medusa. He sees Andromeda, and…”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “Let me guess, he falls in love with her?”

“He falls in love with her,” he nodded. “So he kills the monster, saves Andromeda and marries her.”

“Shocking.”

“And after her death, Athena places Andromeda into the sky as a star with her whole family,” Benedict said, pointing at the star. “Right there.”

You bit down on a smile and clicked your tongue.

“Interesting,” you commented. “You know all myths by heart?”

He nodded his head. “Most of them,” he said. “You’re not the only one with a specific interest.”

“Here I thought the only thing you could offer was your good looks.”

That mischievous smile curled his lips. “I wasn’t aware you found me good looking, Miss Y/N.”

You shot him a glare but that did nothing to wipe that smile off his face.

“Kitty Morris is still inside, I suggest you go to her if you’re in need of compliments,” you said. “Or Madame Delacroix. Or any of your dalliances, really. I’m sure there’s quite the queue.”

“Are all your compliments instantly followed by biting remarks?”

“I couldn’t say, I’m not in the habit of giving people compliments.”

He chuckled, the pleasant sound making your heart skip a beat but you bit on your lip.

“That being said…” you said after a small hesitation. “Thank you. For the—for the flower, earlier. Middlemist Red.”

He looked almost abashed. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I loved it,” you said, nervousness hitting you out of nowhere. “And I will keep it.”

He turned his glances to you. “Will you?”

“Well, yes,” you said. “When you unavoidably become a famous artist, I will either sell it to get rich or keep it to use it as an object for boosting and elevating my position among the ton. I haven’t decided yet.”

He stared at you before he scoffed a laugh, his blue eyes glimmering in delight even under the moonlight, and he ran a hand through his black hair in almost a nervous manner, messing it up in such a lovely way that you had to remind yourself not to reach out to touch it to see if it was as soft as it looked.

“Thank you,” he ended up saying. “It means more than you know, coming from you.”

You offered him a small smile, playing with the silk skirts of your dress just so that you could do something with your hands.

“Why are you here?” he asked after a couple of seconds of silence. “Really?”

You shrugged your shoulders and fixed your skirts.

“I told you,” you said nonchalantly. “I was in need of some fresh air. Why are you here?”  

A silence fell upon him only for a moment before he took a deep breath.

“Can’t you tell?” he asked, and as if on cue, your heart started pacing in your chest. Your eyes shot up to his blue gaze, your breath getting caught in your throat and all you could do was stare at him for a moment.

The warmth of hope that had shot through your whole system was so sudden that it made your head spin, and it would’ve been intoxicating if it weren’t for—

If it weren’t for the familiar fear turning it into ice shards in your veins.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes burning as you dug your fingernails into your palms before you subtly twisted your wrist and clenched your jaw, painfully aware of the hostile glare taking over the happy light that was in your eyes a moment ago, and judging by his expression, so was he.

“Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off through clenched teeth and shook your head. “I wouldn’t even entertain that thought if I were you.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes darting over your face as if he was trying to read your mind. “Why not?”

You shook your head again, fear slowly poisoning your system even if you were trying your hardest to remain calm.

“I know you artists like to be tormented, but trust me,” you said as you stood up, with him following you suit. “What you are implying would result in more of a torment than you could take.”

“It doesn’t have to be—”

“Perhaps it does not but it would be,” you insisted, the burning in your eyes getting even worse but you quickly blinked back the tears. “I’d make sure of that.”

He let out a breath, his gaze locked in yours and he took a step towards you but you stepped back as soon as he did, glaring up at him.

“Don’t make me rip your heart out Benedict,” you forced the words through your teeth, trying your hardest to ignore the pain in your chest. “I will if I have to, so please do not make me.”

The hurt in his eyes was so clear that you could feel the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat and you walked past him, desperate to get away from his sight before he could see the tears blurring your vision. You pushed open the door and made your way down the stairs before you reached the bottom of them and turned a corner to lean back to the wall, a sob climbing up your chest. You pressed your palms to your eyes as if that could help you with tears and tried to fix your shaky breathing.

It was the right thing to do. You couldn’t even—

You wouldn’t even entertain the thought.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to pull yourself together.

“You’re alright,” you muttered, pushing yourself off the wall. “You’re alright, don’t be foolish.”

You took a shaky breath, fixed your dress, then threw your shoulders back and made your way back to the auditorium.

Chapter 8 

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

[seraphiism]

❀ ﾟ. ༄ ┊ 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ! ( 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐯 ) ;

characters : cyno / alhaitham / kaveh a/n : hiii welcome back campus encounters where everyone is a clown pt. i / ii / iii

↬ cyno ࿐ ࿔

you don't know what to expect in law school. you really don't. you expect high stakes, tension in the air. you expect competition, harsh professors who purposely try to weed out the "weak" and make the class excruciatingly difficult. you're not entirely wrong, you suppose, but the last thing you would imagine is-- well, cyno.

your first impression is entirely wrong. however, you have also known him for-- you glance at the clock-- two minutes.

a sharp gaze, head held high. he radiates an intimidating aura, holds himself to something more grand. you don't have intentions to make small talk; you're too tired for an 8:30am class, anyway, and you hate to admit that he almost frightens you. the professor runs out for a moment. brief technical issue-- something like that. you're already zoning out.

in that small frame of time, the lecture hall comes to life, fills with a thousand conversations at once. you ignore them all, absentmindedly skimming the syllabus. you fail to see cyno's eyes trained on you. intent. focused.

"i guess there's been a...law-l in this class."

you freeze. something in your fight or flight instinct activates. the voice came from your right. cyno is also on your right. surely that wasn't him, right?

right?

you swallow hard, slowly turn your head to look at him.

god. you hope that wasn't him. 8:32 am and you are subjected to inhumane crimes in your introduction to law class. red eyes bore into your soul. his face is blank. you don't know what to make of this.

"you know. like lull. law-l."

it doesn't work that way, you think, and the exasperation almost meets your visage, but you keep it at bay. can't hurt this stranger's feelings, after all. there's something akin to hope in those crimson hues, barely on the surface, but ever so present.

you purse your lips, unable to figure out this delicate situation. you could change this man's life forever. what if you make this future lawyer feel like a clown? what if he dropped out? you are not being dramatic, by the way.

you purse your lips, tight, utterly amused and defeated by the ridiculous predicament. you stare at each other, dead silent.

you laugh. you don't know why, but you do, and maybe it's because of the way he comes off so serious, maybe it's the way you can practically see the hope that his pun will get a reaction.

you may also be delirious. maybe.

"oh, you are hilarious."

cyno smiles. somewhere, he feels tighnari's soul shrivel in the depths of despair.

"no, i'm cyno."

↬ alhaitham ࿐ ࿔

"oh my god." you do not know how many times you have said this in the past ten seconds. twice? three times? a hundred? ( that wouldn't be logically possible, alhaitham says, so you say it again ). "i'm dying. it's coming. i feel it in my bones."

"what is?"

"death."

alhaitham stares at you, deadpan.

"you are being dramatic."

"i'm sorry. i will do it again."

you don't mind literature analysis, not really. it's fascinating-- the way you piece concepts together, discover hidden meaning in seemingly superficial words. it's much easier when you enjoy said literature itself, but when you don't? you may as well throw yourself into the void. suddenly you cannot read.

metaphor to metaphor, symbolism in the strangest of things ( okay, so the kitchen cupboards were pastel yellow and not white in this house, so what? ), you grow frustrated as a nearing deadline approaches, brain absolutely fried from finals. you have ten pages to write. you have two done ( those two are the title page and reference page. so no, they do not count ).

you're not sure how it came to this-- 4am and you're huddled up with alhaitham in the corner of the library, your forehead against the desk, your fellow classmate casually drinking his fifth coffee as if caffeine has no impact on him. he's much better at writing papers than you are, and in all his glory, decided to help you. kind of.

it's been about two hours since you've been working together, and while you appreciate the help, the lack of sleep is finally getting to you. you're burned out, tired, and truthfully, you know this is worth 30% of your grade, but you're about to calculate what your grade would drop to if you simply did not turn it in.

you close your eyes. wooden desk or not, red imprint on your forehead or not, you're about to pass out, right here and right now, except--

the feeling of his hand against your back, gentle. he leans forward, just the slightest bit, speaks in that quiet yet firm tone.

"if you finish this, i'll ask you out on a date."

you sit up at an alarmingly fast rate, throw alhaitham the most horrified look you can fathom. his expression doesn't change much, but you see that slight curl of the lips.

"disgusting. i can't believe you would pull such things on me."

"because it'll work."

you roll your eyes, pinch his cheek before redirecting your attention to the laptop before you.

what an arrogant fool. absolute annoyance. menace. idiot. you hate him, truly.

"i didn't say it wouldn't work."

( fine. it works. funny how you're suddenly awake and how everything suddenly seems to make sense after he proposes that offer. )

↬ kaveh ࿐ ࿔

there are three things you first notice about kaveh.

one. he is pretty. very pretty.

two. oh my god. look at his back. hello.

three. he's sleeping in the library. he's also drooling on his ... sketches?

four. wait. too many things to notice. whatever. maybe you should wake him?

you consider the thought, unsure. you'd hate to be woken by a stranger in the campus library-- it'd be off-putting, you think. you glance at the sketches, take in the sights of the blueprints. intricate designs. gorgeous, really, even if you don't have the slightest clue about anything related to said field.

you'd hate to work so hard on such a thing and have it ruined by...well, drool. you place your hand on his shoulder, touch light and hesitant, and shake him gently. once. twice. five times?

he's not waking. surely you're not going to shake the life out of this stranger, right? it's about another ten seconds before you almost give up, letting out a long sigh of defeat before leaning down the slightest bit.

you're gonna speak to him, speak in very soft tones-- slowly ease him from slumber. he's gonna wake up, you'll back away, smile in hopes of establishing your friendly intentions, and that'll be it. done. boom.

that's the plan, anyway, but when your face gets a little closer to his, his eyes open suddenly. two seconds of eye contact. shock twists into utmost fear.

kaveh screams, shoots right out of his seat. you also scream. your life flashes before your eyes when you see him instinctively grab his suitcase.

"before you get the wrong idea-- you were drooling all over your sketches, so--"

you don't think this really helps. he's blushing furiously, from embarrassment or anger, you don't know, but now he's glancing at his sketches, mostly unharmed, and oh, the panic sets in so much more. you watch, baffled, as kaveh throws caution to the wind, frantically cleans the desk and recovers what he can.

it's about five minutes of this. you keep silent, watch in awe and more-so of shock at how this all played out until he turns towards you. he takes a deep breath. you can tell he's tired, weariness on his features. you almost feel bad.

"did you manage to salvage it?"

there's a flicker of curiosity at your words, though the fatigue almost swallows it entirely.

"it'll be okay, i think." his shoulders drop. he smiles, slightly forced. "thank you for waking me-- uh, even if it happened that way."

you'd normally say sorry ( as much as you can say it in this situation, anyway ) and go your separate ways, but there's something almost bittersweet about him that brings a heaviness to the heart.

"sorry. i really didn't mean to scare you like that." you swallow your courage, offer a hopeful smile. "do you want to go get coffee? i'll buy. consider it another apology."

and there is something-- a shift, a lightening, an ease, and kaveh's expression seems to relax at your offer.

( yes, you do go out for coffee. it's one of many future caffeine runs, you both call it, and it's the beginning of a chaotic friendship of sorts. )

taglist : @oshitgirlie ╰ ♡ ;; taglist form !!

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #i love campus encounters . the dry tone is so fun to write #they r all a mess your honor im cradling them all #.: writing #.: multi

[absgay]

“And I can still see it all in my mind, all of you, all of me intertwined. I once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden.” (part 2)

words count: 3,6k.

warnings: 18+ angst, violence, mentions of death, bloody mess, smut, fluff, owen, she/her pronouns, idk tbh. (writing for fun!)

summary: friends don’t look at each other this way, do they? You couldn’t stop thinking about her, things will never be the same.

part one, part three,

• The next week, Isaac had unexpectedly decided to send you on patrol with Abby. Technically, it would’ve been exciting if things weren’t awkward between you two. “Please— I’m serious, don’t walk so far away from me.” Abby said, exasperated. “We have to stick together.” She waited, eyes scanning the street as you walked by. “We’ve been out for hours and we haven’t seen anyone.” Abby sighed. “Yet.” she said. “Look— There’s Scars in the area, we need to stay focused.” Abby’s stomach twisted as the worst scenarios emerged through her mind. She didn’t want anything to happen to you, ever again. “I’ve been going on patrols with Manny and Owen for weeks—” Abby scoffed. “Yes, you’ve been doing good with the infected but you haven’t even encountered any Scars ever since—” she paused, glancing at you. “Who knows how you’re gonna react.” It started to rain, you crossed the street together, an uncomfortable silence installing itself as the minutes went by. “I think we should wait somewhere until the rain stops.” Abby said. “There’s an abandoned bookstore nearby. But we haven’t cleaned the zone yet. We’ll have to be careful, they might be infected or something.” You nodded and followed her. Once you were there, Abby looked around as you searched for a way in, the blond’s eyes widening as you accidentally stepped on glass. “Relax, it’s dead silent in here.” she sighed. “Shit— Something’s blocking the door.” you looked at the broken window right at the second floor. “No.” Abby said immediately as she glanced at it too. “You’re not going in there by yourself.” you rolled your eyes at her stubbornness. “It’s the only way, it’s raining— I’m cold, Abby.” She sighed and kneeled near the wall. “Make it quick.” she ordered as you jumped and reached the window, groaning. “Be careful!” Abby shouted throughout the pouring rain. She waited impatiently at the door, armed and overly stressed until you reached the front door. “Come in.” you said as you opened it slightly enough for the woman to enter the store. Abby closed it behind her. “You’re okay?” she asked, wiping her face. “Don’t worry about me.” you walked to the nearest counter and leaned against it as you dropped your backpack to the ground, feeling exhausted. You could see Abby’s blond braid from a distance as she walked through the alleys and collected stuff before coming back to you. “My boots are soaked…” you mumbled sadly. “You shouldn’t be here.” Abby said, staring at your shoes, her words hitting you right in the chest. “Oh— You’re such an asshole.” you said, arms crossed. “Don’t take it personally, it has nothing to do with you—” you stepped closer. “It has everything to do with me!” you shouted. “You’ve been mean to me all day, ever since Isaac announced it to us. You don’t want me here, I got it.” Abby sighed. “I’ve been stressed out all day, thinking about you. I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N.” you frowned. “I’m not a fuckin’ kitten, Abby.” you groaned. “Right— I doubt it.” you chuckled nervously as she approached you. “Trust me, I know how to defend myself. I can fight.” Your back hit the counter as she pushed you against it, standing dangerously close to you. “Fine— Try me.” Abby suggested. “Do it.” You blinked in confusion as you wondered if this challenge meant something different, something even more complicated. “And this time, I won’t be able to blame the alcohol.” you thought, the tension growing in your chest. So many thoughts and wishes came back in your mind as she stared at you intensely, waiting. “Dammit— Not this again.” Abby thought while having a hard time keeping her hands to herself. “You’re a distraction, Y/N.” she said. “Maybe but, you’re tough…” you smirked. “Not enough.” But then, Abby stepped back, the tension disappearing as you both heard it: Whistles. “Shit.” You grabbed your backpack. “Quiet.” she mumbled. “Maybe they’re just passing through.” You both glanced at the ceiling as you heard noises from upstairs, followed by footsteps coming down the stairs. “How did they manage to—” Abby’s right hand moved to your mouth as she dragged you away.

• “We’re gonna have to find another way out, we can’t use the front door.” she whispered to your ear. Two men arrived in the room, eyes searching for anything to kill as they stepped quietly through the alleys. “What do you mean— We’re gonna fight, we have to.” you responded, armed and ready. “Absolutely not.” Abby sighed in panic, the footsteps coming your way. You breathed in and out, trying to focus as you held the gun tight, ready to shoot. “Fuck this.” Abby mumbled, moving fast and shooting a man down. “There’s wolves in here!” Someone shouted. Abby walked away as the stranger’s body fell to the ground. “Come on, Y/N! I’m gonna distract them—” you turned as one of them shot in your direction. “You’ll run to the door as soon as—” you shook your head. “I’m not leaving without you, Abby!” she pushed you away, shooting back at them. “There’s only two left, I’ll meet you outside!” You walked to the door discreetly as Abby ran into them. “Asshole!” Abby shouted as she brutally wracked a man’s skull. You opened the door and gasped as you saw an insanely tall woman stand right behind it, waiting for you. “Shit—” you choked, the woman stabbing you in the stomach two times as she held your throat tightly with an evil smirk. She threw you against the nearest wall, Abby shouting your name hysterically as she watched the scene. “Don’t touch her!” she yelled out, running straight into the tall Seraphite. She slammed Abby’s body against the shelves, the metallic furniture shaking under the woman’s strength. Abby couldn’t focus on the fight, glancing at your unconscious body laying on the ground as she struggled to breath. “No—” Abby murmured as the tall woman punched her across the face. “You’ll pay for your crimes, Wolf.” She strangled Abby with determination. “Abby…” you murmured, paralyzed by the pain. “Abby.” you repeated, heart pounding in your own throat as your vision became blurry. “Die!” you screamed as you ran towards them, jumping on the woman’s back and violently sliding her throat. “Die!” you yelled again, stabbing the dead woman in the neck as she fell down on her knees, staring at you. “Holy shit—” Abby said breathless and covered in blood. Your knife fell to the ground as you whined in pain, the adrenaline disappearing with the shock. “You’re hurt— Let me see!” Abby panicked as you started to kneel, losing your balance. “No, no, no—” she mumbled, looking at the enormous blood stain on your shirt. “Abby.” She kneeled next to you, holding your body against her chest. “Oh my god…” she murmured, looking at the wound. “Open your eyes, Y/N!” she screamed desperately. “Don’t you dare— Stay with me, please, please, please—”

• “You’ve been sitting here for hours, Abby.” Mel said. “Trust me, she’s gonna be fine. But, after what you’ve been through today, you both need to rest.” she continued. “You’ll talk to her tomorrow morning.” Abby sighed as she entered the empty apartment, thinking about her last conversation with the brunette. She went to the bathroom, turned on the lights and felt sick as she looked at the blood stains on her clothes and skin. She couldn’t handle her own reflection at the moment. She went to bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark as she kept reviving it: “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.” she repeated, breathless as she carried you to the stadium.

• “Shit— My head.” you murmured. Your brain felt way too heavy for your own skull as you opened your eyes, sitting up against the pillow. Abby turned around immediately, relieved to hear your sweet voice. “Hey.” she breathed, standing by the window. “Hey.” Abby walked to the bed, hands reaching for yours as she sat down next to you. “You look—” she paused, looking at your face, its paleness. “You look exhausted.” you said, your fingers playing with hers. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” Abby admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it… I thought you were—” She sighed, unable to say it out loud. “I don’t think we should work together, ever again.” you frowned. “It could’ve happened with anyone, Abby. This isn’t about us—” she laughed painfully, pulling away. “It has everything to do with us, we were too busy flir—” you waited impatiently, the blond standing by the bed with both hands on the hips as she sighed, too scared to admit it. “Whatever— It won’t happen ever again.” she said. “An entire hour— It took me an entire hour, I had your blood stuck under my fingernails, it wouldn’t go away.” she sounded devastated, the blond’s voice trembling through the last sentence. “Come here…” you demanded softly. “Abby…” you begged, eyes watering. “Get some rest.” she said, then left.

• You knocked on the door once, twice. “It’s me.” you said. “I talked with Manny, I know you’re in here, Abigail.” you continued. “You have five minutes— Open the fuckin’ door!” you yelled as you knocked aggressively. You stepped inside the apartment as soon as the blond opened the door, pushing her to the side. “Dammit— What’s wrong with you?” she asked, closing the door. “What’s your problem? It’s seven in the morning.” Things had been complicated since the accident, you guys barely talked to each other anymore. “Isaac told me something—” you chuckled. “You had the audacity to tell him I shouldn’t be allowed to go on patrol anymore, because I was too fragile and irresponsible.” Abby shrugged. “I can't believe it.” you approached her dangerously. “What the fuck—” you paused. Abby looked down at you, frowning. “You don’t get to decide for me!” you screamed, hitting the blond’s chest as you failed to push her away from you. You felt ridiculous, Abby chuckling at your pathetic attempt. “I just did.” she said calmly, enjoying the frustrated expression on your face. “I was supposed to leave with Owen.” you said. “If anything happens to him, it would be your fault.” Abby snorted. “Trust me, from what I've seen, he’s better off without you.” you chuckled, flustered as you unexpectedly caught the blond staring at your lips, which had truly destabilised you. There’s nothing you hated more than how your hatred towards her could turn into lust so fast, so easily, it was unbearable. “It’s dangerous out there, fuck you.” you turned around, ready to leave. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to comfort him once he gets back.” you stopped. “What is that supposed to mean, Abby?” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t look cute on you.” you shrugged, waiting. “One night, you were supposed to meet me at the library around midnight but you didn’t come. I decided to check on you, just in case something had happened or whatever.” she stepped closer. “You walked out of the room with him.” Abby didn’t mention the kiss, as she genuinely felt sick by just thinking about it. “I went back to my apartment.” she finished. “I knew something was wrong.” you said. “As soon as I saw that you weren’t at the library, I knew it. I tried to talk to you the next day at the gym and you pushed me away, you’ve been pushing me away and acting weird ever since.” Abby sighed. “It’s been months— Why didn’t you say anything about it? I didn’t know you still had feelings for him.” she grimaced. “It’s not serious, it’s casual.” you explained as you faced each other. “You’re fuckin’ him— Okay—” Abby nodded. “Should I say congrats?” she asked sarcastically. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve done something, I would’ve stopped seeing him immediately.” she laughed. “Don’t bother, I don’t care.” she crossed her arms. “Okay…” you sighed, exhausted. “If you’d rather be cold, distant and mean than to be honest with me, that’s fine.” Abby remained silent as you walked to the door. “For what it’s worth, your friendship means so much more to me than he ever could.” Truth is, neither of you had the courage to be honest with each other.

• “Is everything alright?” Nora asked. “Sure.” Abby answered as they both walked in the dining hall. “I’m just tired.” Nora nodded, unconvinced. “You’ve been on so many different missions this month, I haven’t seen you in days.” Abby sighed as they waited in line. “Yeah— I had to.” she said. “Are they dating or something?” Nora asked as she saw you and Owen eating together. Abby couldn’t even look in your direction, tortured by jealousy. “I don’t know…” she responded, looking away. “I don’t care…” she added, which sounded a bit suspicious to Nora. “Right...” Nora glanced at Abby, smirking as she caught you staring back. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about, Abs?” Nora asked, grabbing two burritos and handing one to her. “Actually— Yes.” Nora followed Abby through the crowd as the blond searched for a table. “If you could find me some sleeping pills, that’d be great.” Abby sat down. “Insomnia?” she nodded. “What’s the problem? What’s keeping you up at night?” Nora asked. “Too many thoughts…” Abby glanced at you from across the room, sighing as you started laughing at something Owen said. “I see.” Nora chuckled. “The missions, the distance, the insomnia…” she continued. “You’re running away from someone.” Abby’s cheeks reddened. “But it isn’t him, it’s her, right?” Nora asked, genuinely concerned. “I’m not gay...” Abby mumbled, defensive. “Love doesn’t need labels.” Nora continued. “Does she even know or—” Abby laughed nervously. “I— I don’t even know what you’re talking about, I don’t even understand what’s happening to me, Nora.” The brunette looked at you. “Well, she’s really pretty, that’s for sure…” she admitted. “She’s so much more than that.” Abby confessed. “Talk to her!” Nora insisted. “Life’s too short to live with regrets, Abby.” she sighed and threw the burrito on the table. “She almost died in my arms and— Fuck, what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Abby took a deep breath, then exhaled. “It doesn’t even matter, if anything happens to her, I’d— I can’t lose someone else, Nora. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

• “Oh… it’s you.” you breathed, relieved as the tall blond approached the bench with uncertainty. “Yeah…” Abby relaxed immediately as she noticed the calmness in your tone. “She shouldn’t seem so happy to see me, not after our last conversation.” she thought. Truth is, Abby had you wrapped around her finger, but she didn’t even know it. “I couldn’t sleep and I was hoping you’d be here.” she admitted, glancing at the book you held. “Is that the next Harry Potter book?” you nodded. “Did you start—” you scoffed. “Of course not, it’s our thing. I’d never read it without you.” Silence crept over you both as you stared at each other, eyes filled with so many different emotions, both waiting for someone to say something, anything. “I’m sorry… For everything.” Abby said as she stepped closer, standing in front of you. “Look,” you grabbed Abby’s hand unexpectedly, the blond blushing as your fingers gently held hers. “I don’t wanna fight with you anymore, especially over a man.” Abby sighed. “Dammit, you’re cold.” she said, switching subjects. “Yeah— Well, I’ve been sitting here for two hours.” you admitted. “I was hoping you’d come around too…” you frowned as she removed her hand from yours, already missing it. She took off her hoodie, handing it to you with a smirk as she caught you glancing at her abs, since the movement had slightly lifted her t-shirt. “Here.” Abby said. “Unless— You’re not feeling cold anymore.” she smiled. “Shut up…” Abby felt a bit too proud as she watched you pull on the sweater, wishing you’d wear her clothes more often. “Actually, I should probably get to bed. I’m working at the Cafeteria tomorrow, thanks to you.” Abby hummed as she scratched the back of her neck. “Let me walk you to your room.” You tried to hide your excitement as you nodded and looked away, heart filled with joy. You didn’t say anything on the way to the dorm, both overthinking and you glancing at each other from time to time. “Do you wanna come inside?” you asked innocently as you stepped in and turned around. “We could— Talk.” you shrugged. “Sure…” Abby answered. “I’m gonna take these pants off.” Abby nodded and closed the door behind her as you walked to the dresser. She looked at your desk, your pictures and stuff, trying to find something to do, a distraction. But she couldn’t resist it, glancing at you as she heard your clothes hit the bedroom’s floor. “What’s wrong with me?” she thought, enjoying the show as you bent over and grabbed the pants, throwing it away. “Do you want me?” you asked, turning around. “Wait— What?” Abby asked, trying to look at you in the eyes while you casually walked around in your panties and her fuckin’ hoodie. “I said, do you want it back?” Abby sighed. “No, No— Please keep it on.” You frowned. “Are you okay? You seem a bit nervous.” Abby chuckled. “What am I doing here, Y/N?” You didn’t want her to leave, but couldn’t think of a right answer to this question as many scenarios crossed your mind. “I don’t know— I don’t wanna be alone. I thought maybe—” you sighed. “Please, stay with me…” Abby looked down. “Unless you don’t want to.” you added quietly. “Owen wasn’t available?” you rolled your eyes. “You know what— Yes!” you stepped closer. “In fact, he wasn’t.” Abby scoffed and grabbed the handle. “Abby— Wait!” She turned around as you pulled her by the wrist. And usually, you wouldn’t pay much attention to your height difference but as she looked down at your mouth with hunger, you felt vulnerable and weak in the knees. “I don’t care about him, just— Please…” you murmured, dying from embarrassment. You had both been trying to ignore it after the aquarium, after these awkward moments at the library or at the bookstore. But it was undeniable, you could easily silence yourself but not your heart.

• “Fuck it.” Abby murmured as she pulled you by the neck, kissing you for the first time. God, she couldn’t believe how good it was, her warm hands moving to your waist, fingers slipping under the sweater as she held your firmly and deepened the kiss. “Abby…” you moaned, breathless. “Shit— Say it again.” she groaned against your neck. “Abby.” you murmured, hands gripping the blond’s shoulders and head tilted to the side as she sucked on your skin. “Fuck yeah.” You threw the sweater and your shirt away before Abby sat down on the bed and pulled you closer, hands gripping on your thighs as she kissed your stomach, your scars. “You’re beautiful.” she murmured. You looked down at Abby, her naughty eyes meeting yours as she went further down and kissed your cunt gently, right through your soaked panties. “Holy shit...” you moaned, before shoving the woman against the mattress as you got on top. “I’m gonna make you feel so good…” you murmured in the blond’s ear as your hand went to her belt. “Can I?” Abby nodded, groaning in your mouth as you unzipped her pants outrageously slowly.

• The room was submerged by a soft glow, a sweet atmosphere, the sunlight lightly coming through the curtains as Abby’s eyes opened around seven. “Dammit, it happened.” she thought happily, looking at the clothes covering the bedroom’s floor. “It finally happened.” And nothing had come back to torment her last night, no nightmares, no tears, no worries… nothing but peace. The blond watched you, snoring softly as she drew random figures on your back. “Hey.” she murmured. “It’s time to wake up…” You whined and moved closer to the blond’s chest, pulling the sheets over your naked body. “Shit— I’m so late.” Abby chuckled. “I’m gonna head back to the apartment before Manny wakes up.” Abby’s eyes followed your naked silhouette as you went to the bathroom. “Shouldn’t we talk about—” you paused, discovering a real mess on your neck. “Jesus Christ, Abigail!” you shouted, the blond walking to the bathroom in hurry. “I’m an artist.” she said proudly, standing behind you. You looked at the mirror attentively or more specifically, at the woman’s reflection as she stood there, arms crossed over her chest. “Shouldn’t we talk about what happened yesterday?” Abby sighed. “Do you regret it?” You didn’t answer immediately, putting on some clothes as she waited patiently. “It was my first time with a woman.” Abby admitted, insecure. “I don’t have any experience— And it obviously wasn’t your first time.” you smiled, turning around. “That good, huh?” Abby chuckled nervously, feeling warm once again, picturing your dirty mouth down there, moving nice and slow as she gripped on the sheets and moaned. God, she couldn’t control herself around you. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” you teased, a finger running down the blond’s arm. “Don’t do that— Don’t start now.” Abby warned. “You have no idea— I’m already having a hard time focusing on our conversation.” you smirked craving more, the tension coming back as you stared at each other, obscene scenarios in mind. “Shit— You’re so bad— I’m gonna have to leave this room.” Abby said, fits clenched. “I’d love to do it again.” you continued, enjoying this game. “I’ll see you later…” you pouted, Abby walking away. “You’re not gonna kiss me goodbye, Abigail?” Abby huffed. “We both know it won’t end well.”

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson fic #abby x you #abby tlou #muscle mommy abby #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson lesbian #abby smut #tlou fics #gay crisis #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #tlou fic #tlou x reader #tlou 2 abby #the last of us part 2 #the last of us abby #the last of us two #the last of us fanfiction #jocelyn mettler

[hayleyarts]

Darkness

*Author's note: This is a blurb I literally just threw up on a page. Bear with me for any spelling mistakes. And honestly, this could technically be a Spencer x Reader, however it's mainly just a blurb. Also! I was listening to Lewis Calpaldi's cover of when the party's over while writing this so I highly recommend you listen. It's VERY good*

Darkness. That’s what happens when you die. At least that’s what happened to me when I took the final burning breath; my lungs filling with water and other lake debris. Drowning isn’t how I thought I would die, considering my profession; I figured a stray bullet would take me out. But here I am, sinking slowly to the bottom of a lake in the middle of nowhere. Drowning almost seems peaceful, in a way. Once the final burn of water leaves, you drift. It’s a comfortable type of drifting. 

When my day started this morning, I didn’t think it’d end this way. The team and I were working on a case in Oak Creek Wisconsin. It was your typical case, bodies of young women were washing up on the shore of Lake Michigan. The M.O, however, wasn't drowning. All these women died from blunt-force trauma and then dumped in the lake. We figured the Unsub lived near the lake in some capacity because he was comfortable there. But we also knew that he wasn’t confident; he snuck up on these women. He either was too shy, or felt like he was too ugly to talk to them. Regardless, this case felt pretty cut and dry; especially when Garcia found his information quickly once we narrowed-down the suspect pool and we quickly went to pursue him at his remote cabin on the lake. 

We broke into two groups; Hotch, J.J, and Emily taking the front while Rossi, Morgan, Spencer and I took the back. Morgan leads the charge in the back as we clear rooms; calling out as we do so. Eventually we cleared the whole cabin, the Unsub nowhere to be found. Spencer and I decide to move out and search further into the backyard. If it were different circumstances, I’d say the view of the lake was beautiful. Aside from the garbage littering the grass and the various tools laying haphazard throughout the yard; it looked normal. We knew it was anything but. 

I didn’t get a lot of time to enjoy the view, as the Unsub bursts through the doors of the decrypted shed and runs towards the lake. Spencer draws his gun, shouting at the man to stop but I don’t hear him as I run past. I wasn’t going to let this coward run away. I tackle him into the lake, trying to detain him and pull him to shore. He was a lot stronger than I anticipated and we struggled; him throwing punches and curse words my way before dunking my head under the water. 

I emerge from the murky abyss a few times, but the Unsub doesn’t give me enough time to catch my breath before holding my head down again. It was when my lungs were burning that I heard the muffled bang of a gunshot, but I was already drifting into the darkness. I didn’t feel the Unsub’s lifeless body fall into the lake beside me, nor did I feel the arms of my colleague pulling me out. 

I embraced the darkness, it felt warm and comforting considering all the hell I’ve seen and experienced on this job. It was the exact opposite of what I thought death would feel like. I’ve heard Spencer describe death as a light; him retelling his traumatic encounter with Tobias Hankel. But this was mere darkness; like hiding under your blankets at night. 

I knew it wasn’t my time though. I still had so much left to do in the world; so many more people to save. So when I started to feel pressure on my chest, I knew it was Spencer performing CPR. What I didn’t know was that he was crying the entire time; begging me to come back. 

I cough violently, the water leaving my lungs and being replaced by air and I open my eyes, suddenly feeling so very cold. 

“Spencer?” My voice didn’t sound like mine, it sounded far away. 

“Thank god.” Spencer pulls me into his arms, warming me up completely from the chill of the abyss.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds blurb #spencer reid blurb #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

[simplegenius042]

Late OCs as Horror Themes/Tropes, Ships as Tarot Cards, and 15 Lines or Less Tag

Tagged by @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @direwombat and @g0dspeeed

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @softtidesworld @strafethesesinners @strangefable @adelaidedrubman @wrathfulrook @corvosattano @cassietrn @derelictheretic @shellibisshe @florbelles @cloudofbutterflies92 @starsandskies @onehornedbeast @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @afarcryfrommymain @megraen @turbo-virgins @minilev @carlosoliveiraa @shallow-gravy @titiagls @thewanderer-000 @snake-in-the-garden @purplehairsecretlair @chazz-anova @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @skoll-sun-eater @yokobai @bitchofedensgate @deputyash @ec-10 @foofygoldfish @gaeadene @henbased @vampireninjabunnies-blog and @trashcatsnark

You can find the OCs as Horror Themes/Tropes quiz here and the Ships as Tarot Cards quiz here. One OC for the first quiz, Two Ships for the second quiz, and three OCs for five lines each for the 15. The results and lines are below the cut:

DISCORD, THE MAD KIN OF CARNAGE (A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and the Unnamed Original Works Trilogy)

Discord was a second-generation reality bender (or more commonly known as "Kin"), and one of the most devastatingly powerful as well. His very presence was capable of reverting anything and everything around him back to its basic essential form/s (until it became rusted, rotten, and/or dust and eventually nothing at all). Had technically been killed during the Extermination Purge War, however, Arcane Urias' Chapter of the Occult, a group of warlocks, liches and dark magic users that aimed to preserve ancient magic (regardless if it was forbidden or destructive) and bring back the Old Kin (which mostly consist of the extinct first, second and third generations, as well as some fourth) to rule over the Multiverse once again, had found a way to bring back Discord, in a universe where Earth had been ravaged by nuclear war. NOTE: This result kind of describes how Discord's second death more-or-less is like.

THE BAPTIST AND THE QUOKKA [JOHN SEED X NADI SINCLAIR] (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles)

While Nadi and John have this "loyally serving the other while yearning for each others love but beating around the bush due to bad timings and stuff and still caring and possessive of the other to an obsessively unhealthy degree"... I will have to say that Nadi's affection isn't John's only priority; Joseph and his family plus the project is John's focus and is probably what he would choose over Nadi. Nadi though views John as the person who gave her something to believe in again, to put her skill and faith in (especially after losing faith in the military and governments after the events of Call To Arms), so to her, Eden's Gate' faith is personified by John. But if either lose each one another, it will greatly impact the other's life.

HAOYU ANABUKI X ICARUS GALATOS (Life, Despair & Monsters)

Ah yes, another main LGBTQ+ couple I made to add to my collection alongside Sonya and Jennifer. Haoyu (Non-Binary, 25) and Icarus (Male, 23) fit each other well. At first both thought the other was a jerk. However, both got to know each other, related about their experiences with distant, long-lost and/or found family (Haoyu with their father, mother and Monika plus the Literature Club, and Icarus with his parents, siblings, alters and the Dupain-Cheng Family), coming to terms with their personal lives (Haoyu with their ability to open portals and travel through reality breaches, and Icarus plus his alters with the ability to switch dimensions with this magic fungus dude named Hatter whom one of the alters had eaten inadvertently on a dare), as well as near-death experiences (Haoyu with the Ruins of the Midnight Rise, and Icarus with Evermond Scowlzka trying to dissect him and his alters to get Hatter) plus their encounters with Sir Enigma Malvolio (Haoyu is Malvolio's foil and therefore targeted as a rival, and Icarus, while never meeting Malvolio until much later, had seen the aftereffects of Malvolio putting the essence of the Court King into a close friend of his, Marinette Dupain-Cheng). They also manage to work through each other's flaws; Icarus was reserved and arrogant but self-sacrificing (hence the requirement for his alters, Hatsukami Hinode and Xavier Tulip), and Haoyu was bold and selfish yet unambitious. Icarus teaches Haoyu how to be driven, pointing them towards a goal beneficial to not only them, but everyone, while Haoyu taught Icarus how to listen and take care of himself more, as well as be open-minded. Wherever they end up after the fight with the Ruins of the Midnight Rise, know that they're both at least together.

15 LINES, 5 EACH FOR 3 OCS IN THE UNTITLEDVERSE

Calvin Darling (The Perfect Storm saga)

"Ah, back in this shit again?" He grumbles, getting up.

"Haven't you learned by now? "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before the fall"," Calvin quoted, "Try to checkmate that, you pompous dick."

"I need a drink," Calvin pauses, reminding himself of another task, "But first I shall pray."

"Mario! I'm a cartoonist, not a mechanic."

"...I'm simultaneously impressed by how smart you can be but also disappointed in how stupid you are."

Rick Thompson (The Omniscience Rule saga and The Ender saga)

6. "I don't remember hunting down clowns to be part of the initiative...?" 7. "My dream came true Ma... I am IN a Musical." 8. "Ms Darling, if I may compliment outside of regulations, you're stunning beauty is increased tenfold by the stellar addition of grime and demons blood." 9. "I may be an agent, but I'm no where near professional." 10. "Ian Graveheart is the kind of man Pa described as the worst combination you can give a loaded weapon without safety on... legs and batshit insanity."

Urijah Calaghan (The UnTitled Stories (from The Omniscience Rule saga) and The UnTitled Ventures saga)

11. "You don't matter. Nothing matters. Nothing except this mission." 12. "How cruel are our lives where we must live out a path hostile to our treading feet as the unknown entities above and beyond mock and degrade us? And what fate awaits us then? Release? Freedom? Death? A second round for your soul to enter the world again and go right back into the cosmic mechanism that grinds us down again and again and again like a broken carousel? Or a decrepit record stuck spinning on the same tune? But that's only if you're lucky enough to die." 13. "My mission is to release us, painlessly and mercifully, from the one who holds onto us; the Hand at Fate's Table, one abhorrently callous and cruel enough to take pleasure in the suffering he puts us through." 14. "You must find this tiring. For a man to commit himself against an endless stream of challenges for what is ultimately a short speck of time in our universes must come at a great unnecessary cost to your body. Do you not wish to rest, Joaquin? Wouldn't it be best to live the final minutes of your life resting? Taking a moment to hold your family one last time before our Peace?" Urijah softly questioned. 15. "That doesn't matter," Urijah softly breathes out with a smile, hot air colliding against the cold breeze as the countdown reaches its conclusion.

#oc tag game #oc quiz #series: a radioactive calamity of love bombs & gore #oc: discord the mad kin of carnage #far cry the silver chronicles #ship: the baptist and the quokka #ship: john seed x nadi sinclair #john seed #oc: nadi sinclair #life despair & monsters #ship: haoyu anabuki x icarus galatos #oc: haoyu anabuki #oc: icarus galatos #the untitledverse #the perfect storm saga #oc: calvin dearing #the omniscience rule saga #the ender saga #oc: rick thompson #wip: the untitled stories #the untitled ventures saga #oc: urijah calaghan

[lucy-verse]

I’ll write it down here, because I’ll likely never actually get round to writing this and I might as well put it up for adoption. Warning for an extremely dark and fucked up headcanon, with mentions of stalking and possessive behaviour.

I’m absolutely in love with an AU where Light is dangerously obsessed with L. Whether it’s entirely under the influence of Kira, or Kira merely emphasises toxic traits that already existed doesn’t really matter - L is like nobody he’s even encountered before, a challenge, someone who can actually surpass his own intelligence. He isn’t hopelessly boring like everyone else Light has encountered in his life and the more time they’re around each other, the more Light is determined to have him.

It’s not love. Light has deluded himself into believing it’s love, he’s convinced L is the love of his life and they’re soulmates, but to any onlooker, it’s the textbook definition of creepy stalker. Light still plans to win and create his New World, but he wants L right there with him. He wants to give him the Death Note, convince him to make a deal for Shinigami Eyes, christen him as the second Kira so they can rule together. He’ll stop at nothing to make that happen.

Anyone who gets in the way of this future he’s planned for the both of them has to be eliminated, because no one is going to ruin this for him. Eventually, the murders become less about covering his tracks, and more about doing away with anyone who is potentially a rival for L’s attention and affections. A random stranger makes advances at L, and is coincidentally hit by a train less than twenty-four hours later. Even making eye contact for too long can earn you a heart attack. The more time goes on, the more careless and reckless Light gets.

The catalyst is Watari, the only person L really trusts. Light is able to convince Rem that Watari is the real threat to Misa, that L will come round, they just need to get rid of the old man who has a hold on him. And the next five years is just Light stripping away L’s resilience piece by piece. Watari is dead. Aiber and Wedy are dead. Everyone that L was able to fall back on is gone, and the more alone he feels, the closer he inches towards Kira’s arms.

But Light still has a stumbling block to overcome before he has complete control. Technically three stumbling blocks, who are L’s successors and determined to bring him down now that L has all but given up on life. It’s not an issue. Light is happy enough to play their games if the end result is having L to himself. He’s particularly looking forward to dispatching of Near, the one who embodies L the most, the “favourite” you could dare say.

At this point, he certainly isn’t above murdering children. He’ll do whatever it takes to ensure he becomes the centre of L’s world.

Little does he knew, his own arrogance will ultimately be his downfall.

#death note #lawlight #headcanon #idk #I was bored and wanted to write this down #it’s up for adoption if anyone wants it #this is a baby I simply can’t commit to

[occasionallyprosie]

"Harmless Little Lies"

Warriors was wandering one of Legend's era's towns when a paper on the notice board caught his attention. WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE LINK (OF KAKARIKO) REWARD: 5,000 And the image on the wanted poster was undoubtedly their veteran, followed by a list of extensive crimes… He tore the poster from the notice board and went to find the man whose image it held. He wanted to know exactly why Legend was wanted for serial murder, kidnapping, and several other crimes.

Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 6: "You lied to me."

Event Masterlist

Read On AO3 Warnings: Major Character Death, Violence

Warriors put a paper onto the bar beside Legend, a near glare aimed at him while the veteran hardly glanced up.

"What is this?" Warriors demanded.

"I'm a bit busy," Legend said, pulling a needle through fabric, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.

Warriors shoved the paper in his face and forced him to redirect his attention.

"What is this?"

Legend met his eyes over the waved paper. "A wanted poster."

Warriors glared.

He rolled his eyes. "My wanted poster?"

"Why do you have a wanted poster?"

Legend sighed. "Because we haven't gotten around to taking them all down yet. I was framed and even then, Zelda pardoned me. It's not a big deal and nobody cares anymore."

A few days later, Legend found himself separated from the other heroes and unsurprisingly he was promptly cornered by guards.

He decided a long time ago not to fight his way out of these things, these men's minds were altered, they literally weren't themselves and... he'd already killed far too many technically innocent knights because of this damned irreversible spell.

So he complied, he'd escape overnight easily enough. He usually did, sometimes it was harder than usual for... various reasons.

The moment they relieved him of his items and supplies, he had a feeling it would be harder to escape than usual this time. He was full on thrown into the back wall of a cell, stars filling his vision and losing the air in his lungs. The following kick to his ribs further cemented that feeling as fact. Some guard stations were more violent than others... some beat him within an inch of his life. It made it hard to get up and keep going, but he had defeated Ganon when he was beaten down and within an inch of his life, he had cleared whole dungeons, he could escape a drunken guard station.

When they finally left, he couldn't bring himself to move for a while. It may have been an hour, he wasn't certain, but it took a while before he could force himself to move past the pain and broken bones and blood filling his lungs.

When he finally stood, he mentally amended his internal tracker of "how many days it had been since he had internal bleeding" from 17 weeks, aka since his last encounter with guards and getting caught, to 0. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as blood bubbled up and tinted his skin further red and a bit of black.

Great, he thought blandly. This might not be a one potion fix, and he really didn't need to deal with--

"You lied to me. Not a big deal, vet? Nobody cares anymore?"

--the other heroes finding out. The one knight Legend wasn't expecting to see was Warriors, yet when he looked up and strained to focus his eyes, that's who stood on the other side of the bars.

"Geez, you look awful," he realized, frowning.

Legend glared, letting his vision unfocus and lessening the throbbing in his head. "No, really? Get away from the door."

"Why--I have the keys."

He snorted, ignoring the flash of pain as he slumped against the back wall. "Am I supposed to believe you paid bail?"

"Yes," Warriors said bluntly.

He let out a laugh that quickly descending into a painful, coughing fit that sprayed blood over his hand and the ground in front of him.

"Oh shit!" The door clicked unlocked and when he glanced up, hands were coming toward him. He couldn't help but flinch away.

Warriors froze.

Legend wheezed, wiping his face of blood and likely just smearing it. "Calling me a liar, Captain? They still arrest me even though the Queen pardoned me. Nobody could pay my bail. You..." he swallowed the bubbling blood. "You stole those keys."

Oh this wasn't good. He needed to move and get a potion, now.

He tried to stand.

"Whoa, hey don’t do that. Oh golden three, what did they do to you?" Warriors whispered, Legend still heard him even beyond the cotton in his head, his vision began to tunnel and his attempt to stand was shattered by his legs giving out. "Vet!"

The older hero caught him but not without jostling his ribs into stabbing his lungs further, sparking pain throughout his whole body. A pained cry escaped him.

"Oh goddess--Hey, it's going to be okay, just hold on a moment. I'll get you--"

The cell door suddenly slammed shut, a bark of laughter outside and Legend managed to try and focus enough to see a knight outside.

"Seems the criminal actually has friends, too bad that it's not enough to overcome a Knight of Hyrule," the man taunted.

Warriors snarled. "No knight would do this to anyone, convict or not."

"That brat kidnapped the princess and killed dozens of our men, he deserves any fate he's given so long as it hurts."

The guard left, despite Legend hearing Warriors yell after him.

He needed to move. He had the magic, he wasn't good at controlling it unfocused but he could explode the door if he just got up.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Just breathe, you’re going to be okay," Warriors promised him.

"I--" blood leaked from the edge of his mouth. "I-I can break the door. S-Stay behind me."

"Vet no! I'll figure something out, just save your strength!" Warriors pleaded, but as Legend fought to stand, he helped him.

Legend held a hand out to the door and a blast of pure magic exploded it off the hinges and broke the doorway too, it slammed into the far wall.

Blood trickled from his nose and his headache increased tenfold. Warriors caught him as he nearly collapsed.

"C-Cap'n... I don'..." he wheezed and choked. Oh goddesses he couldn't see anything anymore, just blurred blobs of color.

"No, hey, it's going to be alright. You're going to be perfectly fine, I swear. It's okay."

Warriors picked him up and he whined, his senses overwhelmed with pain and blinding him for a moment.

"Don't--Don't lie to me," he murmured. "I'm... I know what dying feels like."

It felt like acid in his veins, it felt like fire on his skin, it felt like water in his lungs and panic in his mind. Dying was painful and suffocating.

His throat filled with blood. His body stopped registering the pain.

His head dropped against Warriors chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart but not hearing the begs to open his eyes.

"You lied to me," those were the first words Warriors spoke upon finding him in that cell.

Ha, Legend thought, a bit amused, you lied to me, actually...

You promised I'd be alright.

#linked universe #lu legend #fanfic #febuwhump 2024 #lu warriors #major character death #look we are gonna have several “should not have survived” fics #so to balance... #whump writing #you know those lies people tell when things are bad? #“you're going to be alright.” #“It's gonna be okay.” #yeahhhh.... #prosie writes

[bluegekk0]

you mentioned keeping quirrel alive. if i recall, after he take the mask off in the Archive he mentions felling old(as if the mask was keeping him young to fulfill his duty). so how old do you place him relative to other mortal bugs like elderbug and zote

He would certainly be on the older side, though I do think the mask slowed down his aging process a bit (aside from maintaining his peak form, which is the main reason why he felt so tired and old after losing it).

I imagine he was very young while he was Monomon's student/apprentice, maybe even a teenager (since the bugs reach maturity sooner, he would technically be an adult while being around 16 or 17), so he was given the mask while still young. The dreamers went to sleep around 45 years prior to FPK waking up from hibernation, and about 50 years prior to now (as a point of reference: Lewk was born about 4-5 years after FPK woke up frim hibernation and reunited with Grimm, Asta and Milo were born a year later, the current AU timeline is "frozen" 2-3 months after they were born).

So Quirrel would be nearing 70 now, which is about the average lifespan for most bug species in the AU. But with the mask slowing down his aging, I think he's physically closer to 50. Still considered old by their standards, but not near-death old. He still has plenty of life left in him, he's just not as youthful and strong as he used to. This is why I imagine he decided to spend the rest of his life continuing Monomon's legacy, to honor her and to live the time he has left in peace.

Elderbug is actually far younger than that, I place him at just under 40. He was stated to be the oldest bug in Dirtmouth, and because its population was very low for the longest time (and the mortality rate was high due to the infection), nearing 40 would be an achievement worthy of such title. He was born soon after the infection returned, so he didn't experience the short period of peace after Holly's sealing.

Zote, as I mentioned before, is actually fairly young, in his early 20s I imagine. He looks and sounds older because of bad genes and his desire to sound more like a mature warrior. But he's very much a confused young adult, no matter how much he tries to hide it.

Iselda and Cornifer are similar in age, they would be in their 30s. I think Iselda might be a little bit older than Cornifer, but it's a difference of a few years at most.

Ogrim is a strange case if I'm being honest. He's been around for many, many years, far longer than the average lifespan. It's possible that FPK somehow halted the aging process of his great knights, or at the very least slowed it down significantly (if that's the case, then perhaps he was also responsible for Quirrel's slowed aging. Maybe it was Monomon's last request?). He was around for the encounter with The Shade Lord/Black Wyrm, which happened around 50 years before FPK's hibernation, but he was already a knight that so he could've been born 20 years prior to that. Let's go with that (I don't think the exact numbers matter here), that means he was 70 when FPK disappeared, and adding the 35 years when FPK was hibernating and the 5 years after his return, that would mean Ogrim is around 110 years old. Quite an impressive age for sure. But with the slowed down/halted age, I think he's closer to 50. I do think his species has a longer average lifespan than most species in Hallownest, so he's not actually that old in that context. But definitely not as youthful as he once was.

Tiso is in his 20s, similar age to Zote. Lemm is 30-40, Sly is in his 40s, the nailmaster brothers are nearing 30. Lurien didn't age during his time as a dreamer so he's in his 40s.

I'm definitely missing some characters here but these are the ones off the top of my head.

#ask stuff #feral pk au #au worldbuilding #quirrel #elderbug #ogrim #zote #tiso #sly #nailmasters #lurien #iselda #cornifer #lemm #ages

[dissentersrising]

hmm. retainers.

actually, let's first talk about the leylines of sornieth. the network of magic running beneath reality that all magic flows through. the world's natural mechanism for cycling magic.

all magic flows from the leylines, returns to the leylines, and is broken down by the shade within so the cycle can start anew.

(as you might have noticed, the leylines and the shade both are the source of many superstitions and misunderstandings, but this isn't about them.)

near-to-all creatures on sornieth are magical in some way, which means that their magic, too, will return to the leylines upon death.

all that is to say that the leylines are the afterlife. purgatory. whatever. which means that every now and then someone will realize this and try to break out. because that is something people will want to do, because a good few people do not want to be dead and/or do not want to simply fade into oblivion. and because that is something you can do, since magic can, in fact, flow out of the leylines.

(which means that you can, in fact, revive someone if you drag them back out but WE'RE TALKING ABOUT RETAINERS HERE.)

retainers aren't actually dragons. they are just kind of... spawned in by purgatory to keep people from breaking out of the afterlife. luckily, they're usually passive. won't bother you if you're just chilling (or, more likely, dying a second time) in purgatory.

they'll beeline for anyone causing trouble though. this includes people trying to break out, people trying to break in, or people who have already broken in and are running around in the leylines while still being very much alive. they will not pursue people out of purgatory, but they will remember and they will come for your ass once you die again.

physically, they're pretty damn big. about the size of a particularly large imperial. they don't have any limbs by default, but they can grow any number of them so one can absolutely have, i don't know, twenty arms if it needs that many. their wings and haloes (for the ones who do have haloes, at least) are not quite solid, but you'll encounter some resistance if you try to touch them.

they can technically be killed if you fight them hard enough, but so long as they retain a connection to purgatory they simply will not stay dead. "killing" one is a pretty tall order in the first place. they're stupidly big, they can channel lightning (not actually lightning- just raw magic. remember, purgatory is inside the leylines) they're able to teleport, and they can straight-up change the geography of purgatory at will. if you want to get out of purgatory, you're better off trying to avoid these things instead.

they seemingly answer to the employers, despite the employers... not actually having created purgatory. still, some of the employers have taken it upon themselves to watch over purgatory and have managed to intertwine their own magic with that of the leylines. as a result, they have some degree of control over both purgatory and its retainers.

anyways out of universe um. hi it's me i'm being insane about madness combat and making fandragons of the most random things. gabriel ultrakill is here because it makes the most sense. he's a retainer now because it's my lore and i get to pick the writing also i use "the leylines" and "purgatory" pretty interchangeably above because they are interchangeable. two names for the same thing. btw sorry i keep drawing things that are not actual flight rising dragons who are actual flight rising breeds. it Will happen again

#flight rising #/etc/art time #/etc/lore time #also deimos is here too but i'm not tagging him for a silly space filling doodle. #what the hell has my lore come to though. three-way crossover of a fucking sketch page #whatever. if it fucking sparks joy #and boy does this spark a Lot Of Joy :] #maybe i'll write up a better explanation of the leylines/purgatory later. still gotta talk about the fact the internet is the afterlife lol #but for now. this should be enough context #also the two drawn with lightning are dragons i actually own (or intend to own). also gabriel too obviously. #but yeah the other two are my actual retainer fandragons. just a cool fun fact #the one with smoke is because i gave it carnivore and figured i could do something with that lol #second one is based off octopus/plating secondary/tertiary

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine an elf ending up in your world and allowing them to live with you.

(This was inspired by a game I used to play a lot and I thought it would be interesting if an elf ended up into reader’s world which has a different fantasy setting. I couldn't decide which elf to use, so I’m used They/Them to describe them so you can put anyone to play this headcanon with you) 

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: There are mentions of dying, some nakedness, violence, reader being passive aggressive, your elf might suffer some trauma because reader’s world is a bit more wild than Middle Earth, eventual growing friendship, dire wolves, undead, and some angst. 

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

-It was just another day in your miserable life. You wake up, feed your dire wolves, build a club and leave your home to gather all the wood, iron, and materials you managed to get your hands on. 

-There wasn’t anything else you could do. You could only travel between places, kill every Leper and Damned on your path, go home, sleep, die and kill all the other exiles that came after you. It was an endless cycle. 

-The Plaguelands did not have much to offer, and it would take time to gather food and supplies for the next dungeon run. Not to mention you needed the key from the Forsaken Gatekeeper. 

-It was a bit lonely too. You only had thoughts to keep your mind occupied, and your only communication was through the raven cage, and you do not even know the people who wrote to you and helped you to get by. 

-You at least had your dire wolves to keep you company, so it was not all that bad. 

-You woke up one day and went on one of your trips, expecting it to be like any other day, but then you encountered something strange. 

-You were brutally killing the enemies with your wooden club, crushing their skulls, and spilling blood on the ground. Your dire wolves fought by your side, protecting you from the back and ripping apart every enemy that dared to come near you. 

-Your violent fight attracted someone’s attention, and you did not notice them coming till the end of your battle.

-You stood there – covered in blood and heavily breathing. You wolves checked on you, whimpering and attempting to lick the wounds you sustained. 

-You gave them pets, comforted them, and gave them treats for a job well done. You enjoyed listening to their happy yaps – and watching how they devoured the treats like excited puppies. It made you think how lucky you were to have them. 

-You were startled when you heard an unknown voice and prepared to fight – your dire wolves growling by your side. 

-The stranger stepped back a little when they saw your massive dire wolves. You held your club, ready to smash their head. 

-Surprisingly, the stranger did not try to strike you. They tried to talk peacefully and explained how they got lost in the mist and needed help. 

-You were confused since they did not look like an exile or any other human you usually met on your travels. They wore different and much more expensive-looking clothing. You couldn’t decide if they were from the capital or somewhere else. Not to mention, their ears were weirdly pointy. 

-You held caution while they spoke to you. They avoided looking directly at you since your torso was bare. One of the lepers tore up your shirt, so your skin and chest were bare to the world. 

-You almost found some amusement in their behavior – no doubt they grew up with rules of decency, but there was nothing you could do about your naked torso because you didn’t carry a spare shirt. 

-Not that it matters. You technically fought enemies naked every day. 

-You asked who they were, and they told you their name, which did not sound like a name anyone would have. 

-When you asked why their ears were pointy, they explained they were an elf, which did not ring any bells since Plaguelands did not have elves, only death, and the plague. 

-It was confusing, but when they kept talking, explaining how they got lost and magically taken to your world and all that nonsense – you decided to leave and go back to your stronghold with your dire wolves.

-You did not care listening to someone’s sob story, especially from someone who probably hit their head harder than the damned that lay dead beneath your feet. 

-However, you did not expect the elf to follow you home. 

-You could have chased them off, but since you did not have the energy and they didn’t pose a threat, you didn’t bother. 

-But by the Nameless god, they were annoying. 

-They were constantly asking questions and telling you about Middle Earth, orcs, and all kinds of gibberish that did not exist in your world. 

-But, you remember your manners from when you still lived in the capital and offered them some leek soup and refreshments. You listened to their story with an annoyed smile as you both sat at the bonfire. 

-You wanted them to leave when the night came, but you took pity on them and doubted they would survive the night, so you prepared them a quick mat and allowed them to sleep in your storage house. 

-You did not have space anywhere else, and you did not trust them enough to let them sleep in the same house as you, so they shall have the storage house. 

-The next day, you prepared some food and started making fabric and smelting copper in your workshop. 

-The elf walked into your workshop and watched you work on multiple things with minimal effort, leaving them impressed. 

-They were even more surprised when you told them you built everything in your stronghold by hand. You did not have money or people to buy your supplies from, so you had to make everything yourself. 

-They asked about you and your life, and you told them little about yourself and how you got exiled from your home because of the plague. 

-They felt pity, but you told them not to pity because pity brought nothing in Plaguelands. 

-When you prepared for the next trip, you allowed them to stay if they made some materials for you, and they agreed since they had nowhere else to go. 

-They told you they had experience in the forge, so you were satisfied with it because it meant more metal and weapons. 

-They bid you good luck on your trip and worked in your workshop till the night came. They waited for you to come back, but there was no sight of you. 

-They were worried because you told them you would be back before nightfall, but they tried to have faith and waited till they decided to go to sleep and see if you were back in the morning. 

-The next day, they were startled when you suddenly walked out of your house with nothing but undergarments and a pissed-off look on your face. 

-When they asked why you didn’t come back before nightfall, you explained you got killed during your trip, thus why you couldn’t come back early. 

-They were baffled by your answer, so you then explained you and other exiles suffered a curse that allowed you to come back from the dead, and you always come back with nothing because your dead body was rotting elsewhere.

-You already got over the point of being shocked, so you were more mad about losing your stuff, especially all the fine materials you found. 

-Your elf guest didn’t know how to progress the information, especially when you did not even look bothered by your unnatural condition. 

-They slowly began to adapt to your lifestyle. They helped you around the house, worked in your workshop, and cared for your wounds whenever you came back. 

-They have also decided to take it upon themselves to make you new clothes after learning sewing from you. You told them clothes got easily torn in Plaguelands, and it was common to see exiles running around half-naked because sometimes they just don't want to waste resources. So your elf guest decided to ensure you would have clothing to wear whenever you came back from your trips or the dead. 

- They were not used to seeing people walking casually around half-naked and were not planning to get used to it now. 

-Your lack of clothing was most likely one of the reasons why your skin was always so pale and cold. 

-You told them you were already used to the cold climate, so it didn't bother you if you didn’t have any clothing. You were grateful for their thoughtfulness– thought, so you made sure there was enough fabric to make clothes. 

-Your three dire wolves grew to like them a lot. 

-They were a bit wary but soon got comfortable when your elf guest fed them and cared for their injuries. 

-You were grateful and happy that they got along. You found it funny whenever your dire wolves wanted your elf guest’s attention. They would sometimes follow your guest around, nibbling for treats and barking at them to play. 

-You decided to teach your elf guest a little about your world, showing them the scrolls and books you collected over the years. You also showed them monsters and people they should avoid when going out. 

-They listened and decided to tag along on your trips, helping you gather materials and fight monsters. They had excellent fighting skills, so you were impressed. 

-You always took them home before nightfall or made sure they always stood near a light source. They learned the hard way about the Nightguest, and the encounter left them frightened and anxious, especially when you told them there was no way to kill the Nightguest. 

-There was only one way to keep it away, and it was light, so they made sure the fire burned in the bonfires whenever you were on a night trip. 

-They were helpful when it came to talking with people. You always hated to talk, so you were happy just to stand in the background as your elf companion did the talking. 

-But when some people decide to criticize your companion and throw insults, you interfere and deal with them aggressively and destroy their things to make their survival even more difficult. 

-You’re petty when you deal with people, but for your elf companion, you went so extreme that it surprised you. 

-That’s when you realized you cared about them more than you thought. It made you weary because growing attachments was dangerous in Plaguelands. 

-But you stopped caring and started seeing them as a friend. You began to enjoy your life with them. 

-They were an excellent cook. Whenever you returned from your trips, you would smell new aromas that would make your mouth water and your stomach rumble with newfound hunger. 

-You would wander to your cooking area and find your elven friend cooking something delicious in the pot. 

-When your elven friend allowed you to taste the food, your tongue would feel like flying because, by the three gods, you have never tasted something so good in your whole life. 

-Their food would beat the leek soup and the steak, so you would keep your food storage full, so they could continue cooking for you. 

-When you had enough supplies and weapons, you allowed your elf companion to visit the dungeon with you, but after several fights with the inhabitants and nearly getting killed by the Desecrators and Damned knights. You decided not to take them on trips that were more life-threatening than the usual ones. 

-You might be able to come back from the dead, but there was no certainty they could, and you did not want to lose your first friend in years.

-They luckily didn’t decide to protest and gladly remained at your stronghold. They were left shaken after visiting the dungeon and couldn't believe you had faced those kinds of creatures all by yourself before they came into the picture. 

-They were confident you could take on a Balrog without a sweat. 

-You comforted them not to think about it much. Things might seem unnatural and inhumane to them, but to you – they were expected since you had several years of experience. 

-Orcs and dark lords might cause chaos in their world, but in your world, everything was chaos. 

-Your elf friend grew to respect you, but they would also feel sadness and anger toward those who left you to survive in infested lands. Your life was cruel madness, and it was a surprise you still managed to hold on to your sanity. 

-After living together for some time, you decided to build them their own room in your stronghold and gave them a dire wolf pup you found during one of your trips. 

-Your elf friend felt honored and promised to cherish the little wolfing.

-You tried to help your elf friend to find a way back to their home. You looked for all the books around the Plaguelands and questioned people who had more dealings with magic and other worldly matters. 

-Your search didn’t bore a lot of fruit, but with your elf friend by your side, you got closer to your goal every day. 

-You two grew to trust each other. You’re protective of your elf friend since you never knew when fate would become cruel and take them away from you.  You dreaded the day when you finally figured out a way for them to their world, but till then – you cherished the life you had with them by your side until it was time to say goodbye. 

-You were unaware that your precious elf friend was planning to take you and your dire wolves with them so you could finally stop living in madness and find peace within their world.

#various x reader #silmarillion #lotr #hobbit #silmarillion x reader #lotr x reader #middle earth x reader #middle earth #tolkien #silm fic #silmarillion headcanon #lotr headcanon #middle earth headcanon #elf x reader #reader insert #silmarillion imagines #lotr imagines

[sharkteethies]

I’ve really been enjoying the fanfic ‘There is no Death’ by @ashkav so I decided to do a couple fanarts for it!

I very much recommend it.  As a quick summary Cal does not survive his encounter with Darth Vader near the end of Fallen Order, his consciousness goes back in time to when he’s ten and Order 66 has not happened and Anakin has not yet fallen to the dark side.  Cal realizes he has the chance to prevent a lot of tragedy and death and immediately starts to plan how to change history.  

Unfortunately he’s like, you know, technically ten now.

If anything read for the lovely chance at seeing Obi-Wan dealing with a new padawan.  You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll watch Obi grow more gray hairs in real time...

#obi wan kenobi #star wars #fallen order #jedi survivor #au #fanart #pls read the fic it's really good #myart #cal kestis

[pickel182]

The Astarion’s blanket chapter because this has lived I my head rent free for MONTHS

Gods, he’s going to the the death of me, Tav thought to herself.

Well, technically already had been, but since he’d revived her after, maybe that time didn’t count. He fed as she laid beneath him near the fire, he cradled her head in one hand as the other arm bore most of his weight. He hummed contentedly against her neck and she very unsuccessfully stifled a moan.

“Listen to you,” he cooed into her ear. “Seems I’m not the only one enjoying this.” He collected the blood that had pooled around the twin marks in her flesh with a long lick, brushing his lips lightly at the skin above and below the bite before latching back on. She whimpered, the hand already in his hair tangling further, tugging lightly as if she couldn’t help herself.

Astarion quite liked the effect he had on her. He reveled in the noises she tried to contain, her little shakes of excitement as he drank languidly, in no hurry to end their little tryst. He enjoyed how tightly her breasts were pressed against him, and he sighed at the warmth spreading from her soft thighs squeezing against his strategically placed knee. He had paced himself much better this time to avoid getting carried away, and was delighted to find his companion so thoroughly pleased by the sensation of feeding him.

Her hand at his lower back was pulling him down toward her, and he was all too happy to comply by lowering his body to hers. He had held himself well in check until that point, considering he had been hard since the moment her blood hit his tongue.

She pressed into him wantonly and he groaned into her neck, rolling his hips to meet hers.

“Is this what you wanted, pet?” He asked, voice rougher than he intended.

She replied by bringing her tongue around the delicate point of his ear, nibbling softly as he shuddered against her.

He pushed up on one arm, eyes lidded with lust, his voice laced with warning. “Careful, darling, or you’ll get exactly what you want, right here in the middle of camp.”

She knew all her sense had left her then, as she met his eyes and asked,

“Do you promise?”

The bloodstained grin he gave her in answer did something to her lower body that made her arch up into him.

He inhaled the suddenly much more intense scent of her arousal and it made his eyes nearly roll back in his head. “Tell me what you want, dearest, I want to hear you,” he purred as he rubbed his nose along her jawline. She brought her legs around his hips to close whatever space remained between them, rocking upwards to grind against the bulge in his trousers.

“Bite me again.”

He lost the mental capacity for words. He managed to whimper “fuck,” before pinning her wrists on either side of her and roughly biting down on the unmarked side of her neck. He began to grind himself into her in time with each pull of her blood. She moaned and writhed beneath him, matching his movements desperately in search of friction.

He was going to come if this went on much longer, but he was too lost in her to care, until he felt her go stiff beneath him.

“Astarion, wait.”

With tremendous effort, he drew back from her. He searched her eyes in answer and found her blushing even more than she had been.

He had been so caught up that he hadn’t heard Shadowheart approach before hearing the voice above them.

“Ugh, I hate to spoil the mood, but I’m not sure that using supernatural strength to pin the woman you killed not three days ago is best practice for keeping her alive.”

The nosey bitch! He thought, despite the fact that he actually liked the cleric. The potential competition for Tav’s attention wasn’t an immediate concern, considering the state of her beneath him. He liked that Shadowheart didn’t seem as eager as the rest of the group to spill her guts and take pity on every poor soul they encountered. But that was before she had ruined his fun.

“I am perfectly able to control myself now, thank you very much.” He responded, glaring before laving his tongue over the new bite at Tav’s neck to close up the wound.

Shadowheart was not going to miss an opportunity to tease Astarion. Both to take him down a peg and poke a bit of fun at Tav for her questionable taste in company. “Terribly sweet, that she was your first. Not sure I’d keep feeding someone who killed me just because they’d been on a diet for a century or two, though.”

Astarion glowered. He changed his mind. He hated Shadowheart.

Tav moved to stand and peeled him off of her, despite his best pout. Her sense and capacity for shame returned to her. Hells, what is wrong with me? In the middle of camp? She was going to have to put her self control back in place right away to have any hope of functioning tomorrow. She was blushing and still a little out of breath from being flustered, so she was more breathless than she’d like when she spoke to Astarion. “Maybe we should get some rest, there’s a long day ahead of us tomorrow, traveling to the grove.”

Astarion considered her shift in mood and decided to change his approach. He made a show of looking as poorly as possible to complain, “But darling, I’d only just started supper… before getting distracted.” He made his eyes as large and sad as possible as he wrung his hands, the very image of contrition.

Tav turned her eyes heavenward, either for an intervention, or forgiveness for being so fucking weak, she wasn’t sure which.

She sighed. “Only what you need, and then sleep. Agreed?”

He nodded solemnly, one hand on his chest.“ Cross my heart, and hope to…” he trailed off, before adding with a smirk, “well, I’ll be good.”

She shook her head at his terrible joke and smiled despite herself. “Come on then. Shadow has first watch, so you can finish up in my tent and then I’m going to bed.”

Yes! He thought to himself. He couldn’t contain his fangy grin, and gestured with a flourish for Tav to lead the way. He valiantly fought and lost to the urge to stick out his tongue at the cleric.

Shadowheart scoffed. “In your tent?” So eager to offer yourself to our lady of loss? Suit yourself then. See you tomorrow…I hope.” She narrowed her eyes at Astarion and added under her breath, “fucking leech.”

“Cultist bitch.” He replied with a wink. Maybe Astarion liked her after all.

**********************

Astarion ducked into Tav’s tent behind her, aware of how being interrupted earlier might have just worked in his favor. He found that he was almost as eager to see the inside of her tent as he was to be alone with her in it.

Tav spent much more time letting their other companions talk than she did about herself, and he wanted to know more about her than she had been willing to share so far. This was all a part of the design of course, his excitement was surely just that of a plan coming to fruition.

The tent was just tall enough in the middle for them both to stand. Off to one side she had arranged her bedroll with various cushions, covered in a small patchwork quilt. She lit a candle, setting it’s holder back down on the crate that served as her nightstand. On her other side were two stacks of books with a plank of wood balanced across the top, holding a small velvet pouch, and a shirt that looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place why.

Astarion watched her intently as she sat down on her bed and leaned against a cushion, crossing her ankles. “Well,” she shrugged and gestured around her with a smile, “Welcome home, what little I’ve tried to make of it anyway.”

He looked around and saw a few more small crates on their sides, littered with baubles of different kinds, glass bottles, stones, and dried flowers. She had a tree branch dug into the ground near the sewing table, its small broken limbs serving as storage for a few rings, necklaces and fabric scraps. Somehow, it did seem less like a tent and more like a home. He rather liked it.

He knelt down at the foot of the bed to join her, and she pulled her knees in to give him more space to settle down.

Tav was sure that by now he’d have started pushing his luck to pick up where they’d left off. She considered that the intense desire she felt earlier might have been a chemical consequence of the bite, at least in part. Before their endeavor, she hadn’t been in the habit of being dinner for vampires, so she had no way to be sure. Even if she were to ask, he might not know, since she had been his first. She had started to tug at her rings and the ends of her shirt sleeves as she thought.

Astarion wondered where her mind had gone as she began to fidget. She had never struck him as shy before. Although he wasn’t sure what caused her hesitation, he knew there wouldn’t be anything more physical that evening. Had this been any other night before their adventure, he would have employed every temptation in his arsenal to secure his master’s prey.

But here in the candlelight with her, the far off-look in her eyes felt too familiar. How many times had his eyes wandered to another place before the inevitable? Before whoever he was with, mark or master, took what they wanted? After the first few hundred times, he stopped counting. He reached toward her and held out his hand.

His movement pulled her out of her thoughts. Oh, right. He still needed to feed. She offered her wrist, but looked up in confusion when he turned her hand and laced his fingers through hers. He shook his head as he gave her fingers a light squeeze. The unexpected gesture and intensity of his gaze set a new wave of heat across her face.

He smirked at her reaction. “Welcome back, darling. As curious as I am about what’s on your mind, there’s something else I’m dying to know.”

She laughed, surprised at how much more relaxed she felt all of the sudden. “How can I still blush about holding hands after what happened earlier? I’m not sure either. Color me shocked.”

There she is, he thought, as a genuine smile spread across his face at her response. Her hand was so warm. He wanted to unlace his fingers and hold her hand in both of his to savor the feel of it. He resisted the urge in case it seemed desperate- or worse - she took her hand away.

“Diverting as it is, I’m even more intrigued about your having Gale’s shirt on your table.”

She really laughed then, eyes crinkling as she regarded his quizzical expression.

“He got a few rips in it the other day. Apparently Mystra’s chosen doesn’t know any cantrips to keep them from pulling back open. I agreed to fix it so long as I didn’t hear anything else about ‘the weave’ for the rest of the night.”

He tilted his head in interest. “I didn’t know you could sew.”

“You’d be amazed at the things you’d learn if you’d ask. But I guess that wouldn’t be very broody of you.” She teased, letting go of his hand to give his knee a playful shove.

He frowned and held his hand back out, and she laughed before offering hers again. He took her hand in both of his, rubbing her knuckles lightly with his thumb. He rolled his eyes “Better late than never, I suppose.” He had noticed some of her fabric scraps matched the blanket spread beneath them. “Did you make this?” He patted the quilt.

“I did!” She knew it wasn’t fancy by any means, but she had taken care to make it by hand, and was proud of how it turned out.

His eyes focused on their hands. He pursed his lips in thought as he ran his thumb over her knuckles again. Tav thought he looked conflicted about something. When he met her eyes again, Tav was surprised to see him look so vulnerable as he spoke.

“Can I show you something?”

“Of course.” She replied immediately. She was eager to see what had caused him to expose what looked suspiciously like genuine emotion.

He kept a hold of her hand as he stood. “It will only take a moment.”

She followed him out of her tent and into his. While he opened a chest at the foot of his bed roll, she took in her surroundings. Several piles of books littered the area, along with a crate that was suspiciously full of valuable looking loot, and a few bottles of wine varying in fullness.

Astarion turned back toward her holding a pile of fabric that upon closer inspection, appeared to be a very worn blanket.

“I’ve had this for a very long time. I’ve only been able to repair what I can by having read a few books, but I think what it needs is beyond my level of expertise.”

Tav normally would take the opportunity to tease him about being so sentimental. But her better judgment told her it was taking great effort for him to let her see so much of him in that moment.

She reached out to rub the material between her fingers as gently as possible. She was confident it could be saved, but she’d have to make sure he was comfortable with the ideas she had in mind. She can’t imagine the trouble he’s gone through to keep it all this time, considering what she knew of the general nature of his life before the tadpole. After Shadowheart had decked the shit out of him, Tav had only agreed to let him continue to feed on her if he was honest about his condition and what had left him in his current state. Full disclosure was an important part of consent, and he had agreed that was fair.

She was confident in her abilities, and it felt nice that he’d trust her with the request.

“I know it’s seen better days, but you’ve done the best you could in taking care of it, considering.” She regarded the cloth again carefully before continuing. “I’m glad it found its way out here to me.” When Tav looked up to meet his eyes, she wished she could tell him she didn’t just mean the blanket.

Astarion felt the tadpole wriggle behind his eye, just before he heard her thought as clear as if she’d said it out loud. The unpredictable telepathic link was a side effect of their illithid parasites. His eyes widened immediately, and he felt his stomach do a little flip.

Shit. She thought, as soon as she realized what had happened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push through.” She hoped he didn’t think that she’d been snooping in his mind.

“No, I know, darling, no need to apologize.” He cleared his throat to get a hold of his sudden well of emotion. “Gods know I like you bleeding, be it the heart or elsewhere,” he purred, as he returned the blanket to the chest.

She rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head. “You’re terrible.”

“We both know you like it.” He teased with a raised brow as he turned back to face her. He sighed as he faced her again. Astarion wasn’t ready to let her go, but they really did have a long day planned for tomorrow. “We should both try and get some rest, pet.” He took her hand to place a light kiss on her knuckles.

“You’re right,” she replied as she held onto his hand a little longer than she intended as she turned to leave. “Goodnight, Astarion.”

“Goodnight, Tav. Sweet dreams.”

He used her name. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him say it out loud before, certainly not when speaking to her. It was nice.

She felt her exhaustion take over as she entered her own tent and settled into her bed. Just as she drifted out of consciousness, she heard his voice in her mind.

“I’m glad, too.”

*************

TikTok Link to a video a wonderful creator made about his blanket 😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7KWVea/

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #smut #bg3 tav #plus sized tav #fanfic #ao3 #Astarion’s Blanket #sentimental

[naddpod-encounter-tourney]

Option 1:

Enemy: High King Durretar, Ancient Blue Dragon of the Sapphire Scale

Episode: C3 E27: King of Dragons

Time: 48:48-2:11:35 (battle stops at 2:03:55 but initiative ends at the later time)

Finish: Princess Shiverblight

Notes: On 3, regicide! The level 8 party decides to fight an ancient dragon on their own when only one of them manages to long rest beforehand. The mechanics of this encounter include dragon riding and are so goddam cool. It's also incredibly visual and one of Murph's best uses of lair actions to date.

Propaganda: (anonymous) CMON ITS KING OF DRAGONS. SO SICK. genuinely from the bottom of my heart the most exciting, interesting, and cool encounter I've ever seen. Rad as hell both mechanically and plot wise. SHIVERBLIGHT SWEEP!!

Option 2:

Enemy: Undead Dragon, Wilhelm Bronzebeard, Pale Prince, Akarot, Rust Bronzebeard

Episodes: C1 E45: Kingshammer

Time: (ads) 38:36 - 1:45:58 (but don't stop there. fr)

Finish: Bev (Wilhelm* (*Technically killed by gravity but Bev did trip with him on his back), Dragon), Hardwon (Rust* (*given the option of catching him, refused), Pale Prince)

Notes: Hardwon faces his childhood bullies in the snow. Wilhelm casts Earthquake and turns things into a fall/chase encounter as everyone races for the Kingshammer. Moonshine jumps down immediately to play defense. Bev tries to kill Akarot, who just leaves, and then has to keep saving everyone. He ends up being the only one with decent HP at the end, and this fight is so close to a TPK. Hardwon gets the Kingshammer. Paw Paw has to do CPR on Balnor.

Propaganda: (anonymous) The fact that Murph was able to design this sheer number of factors and have it be balanced perfectly as a dire, near-deadly, but winnable fight, is so impressive. And those factors were so creative. There was the kingshammer falling 2d100 every round, and players able to run or fall to get to it, a complicated goal that invited gambling, sacrifice, and creative use of spells. There was major bad guy Akarot in his prime body, the pale prince, and a fucking white dragon. There was Wilhelm Bronzebeard and his shit nephew-son who wouldn’t pick a side. There was Toma and her wolf slowly steadily running down the mountain in the background lol. There was escalation that made the battle start before Wilhelm’s avalanche, navigated flexibly by Murph. He was not fucking around, throwing Bev’s amulet into the snow, and keeping track of so many enemies and their conflicting motivations as well as their mechanics. The imagery in my mind of the chaotic tumbling snow is so real, and the scene of the last conscious pc exchanging blows with a dragon was so fucking epic. And the terror at the end of genuinely not knowing whether they were going to have won the battle only to freeze to death. Such a thick sode, a chunky battle, an incredible narrative, such a cool encounter for an arc finale.

#not another dnd podcast #naddpod #bahumia #ba2mia #naddpod encounter tournament #round 4