#this Is Not Good for her. she is in pain that she absolutely does not have to be in for Not Taking Drugs Points awarded by no one.
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Ruined Movie Dates ✧.*
James Potter x Reader
Hurt/Comfort
“Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
masterlist
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You are currently hiding from James in the bathroom.
It’s not like you want to be hiding from James, you want to be cuddled up in his arms watching a movie right about now as you had planned yesterday, but here you are with a black eye hiding in your bathroom as you hear James letting himself into your apartment.
It really wasn’t your fault it’s not like you prompted this person to punch you, she mistaked you for the girl who slept with her girlfriend and that’s fair.
but god does it hurt like an absolute bitch.
And all you know is that James can not know about this. Your sweet, kind, lovely, caring boyfriend would flip the absolute fuck out if he saw that you had a black eye.
in a loving and concerned way of course but, how exactly are you going to hide it from him when he’s literally in your apartment right now for a movie date?
you have absolutely no idea.
“Love?”
you hear James call from the entry way
“I’m just in the bathroom i’ll be out in a sec!”
fuck.
you usually keep your makeup in a drawer under the sink but as you open it is you realize you left your foundation in your purse yesterday when you were running late to work. Now you really have to option but to kick James out and wait until your eye heals to see him again.
“Um James can you come here please?” you ask in a small voice
you hear his footsteps come from the kitchen up until the door and you open the door a crack so that he can’t see your bruised eye
“I’m really not feeling good tonight and I know it’s a little late to cancel seemingly as you’re already in my apartment but I hope you’ll understand when I ask you to please go?”
he stands there silently staring at you, evaluating you, looking right into your soul, and stealing all the thoughts from your brain.
how dare he.
“If you really are feeling unwell and want me to go, I will but I don’t mind getting sick and I would rather take care of you, if you’ll let me?”
and shit. When he talks in that sickly sweet voice it’s really fucking hard to lie to him.
“Jamie I appreciate the offer but I just really need you to go-“
as you are as politely as possible asking him to remove himself from the premises of your apartment complex he shifts his position allowing him to see just a little further into the bathroom. Just enough to see your absolutely fucked eye.
“Baby what happened?”
All the sudden his concerned look gets ten times worse. his eyebrow scrunches more and is frown deepens and he opens the door to grab your chin and examine your eye.
without the stress of trying to hide from james you can finally feel the throbbing pain in your eye and you really wish you had sneaked an ice pack before you scurried into hiding
“lovie you have to tell me what happened”
you just whine.
he lightly brushes his finger over the bruise and you wince
“sorry”
“it’s okay” you say taking a deep breath
“This girl mistaked me for the girl her girlfriends been cheating on her with but it’s not her fault because she showed me a picture and we do look exactly the same I mean I was wondering if i was secretly adopted and had a twin that I didn’t know about-“
and now youre rambling and it doesn’t seem to be soothing james’ pitying expression
“ Love why didn’t you call me immediately? I would have been there in an instant. Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
“i’m sorry I just didn’t want to make it a big deal”
“it is a big deal, you’re hurt, cmon love let’s go get an ice pack that must hurt”
and he scooped you up into his arms as if it was your legs that were hurt and carried you the couch as he grabbed an ice pack
you can’t lie, there are much worse things than being taken care of by james. much much worse.
#james potter x you#james fleamont potter#james potter fluff#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter imagine#james potter x fem!reader#jamespotter#james potter hurt/comfort#marauders era
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life in the fast lane // miles teller
summary: the life and times of trailblazing indycar driver y/n y/l/n, and her celebrity husband, miles teller. in the weeks leading up to the indy 500, the pair have a very special announcement that will alter lives forever.
pairing: miles teller x andretti driver! reader
author's note: its hard to write an smau about a man with no public instagram account lemme tell you that real quick-
y/ny/l/nteller just posted!
indianapolis, indiana.
liked by josefnewgarden, monicabarbaro, valkilmerofficial and 4,578 others
y/n/y/l/nteller indiana never felt like home to me until i had you on the open road.
indy tests start monday, and we are officially one month out from the five-hundred. let's do this, indiana!
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valkilmer you got this kiddo! we're all rooting for you!
-> ynylnteller 🥺🫶🏻 love ya Val!
kyle_kirkwood i have known your husband for four years now and he still looks awkward in every single photo that gets taken of him at the track. how does he do it?
user babe come home, the children miss you?
-> y/n/yl/nteller miles and i don't have any kids (yet)
ashleynewgarden shocked we got through that dinner without josef and miles singing beyoncé at the karaoke bar
-> josefnewgarden that happened ONCE. I wish miles had social media so he could help me defend these accusations
-> y/n/y/l/nteller take it up with the hubby, not me
user does she look like she’s out on a bit of weight?
-> user it’s probably muscle lmao she’s an athlete bud
patriciooward most photogenic couple in the paddock!
monicbarbaro booking my flights rn
-> ynylnteller girls weekend here we come!
y/ny/l/nteller just updated her story!
ynylnteller just posted!
liked by reesewitherspoon, coltonherta, glenpowell and 5,145 others
ynylnteller god I’m going to miss all of this
*this caption was deleted*
ynylnteller days like these 🫶🏻
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user did anyone see the original caption?!? where is my girl going!
stingrayrobb thanks for making my nieces day so special! she looks up to you so much and she spent all day talking about how awesome you were. thank you and god bless!
-> ynylnteller your niece was an angel, it was my pleasure!
coltonherta your straight line speed this morning was absolutely incredible. are we thinking an andretti 1-2 is in the cards this weekend?
-> ynylnteller absolutley! let’s get it!
glenpowell everyone is talking about straight line speed and I’m just amazed that you can balance on the tires like that-
-> ynylnteller it took five years of practice to be this good glenn
ynylnteller just posted!
liked by monicabarbaro, katherineracing, scottdixon and 4,653 others
ynylnteller as much as it pains me to say it, the todays Indy 500 will be the end of my 2024 season. while I’m upset that this season is coming to an end prematurely, I am also beyond excited. if the pictures above didn’t give it completely away (and my husband was able to keep his mouth shut all weekend), I am beyond overjoyed to announce that miles and I are having a baby! we tried to keep it under wraps for as long as we could, but as of the next race, baby teller would be too big for me to race without hurting them or myself,
while I won’t be on the track itself for the rest of the season, I couldn’t give this place up if I tried. Instead, my car will be driven by the amazing callum_ilott and I will be joining my bestie jameshinchcliffe in the commentary box.
when I was little, I only had one dream: to be a race car driver. but as I got older that dream began to change, and I realized all of that meant nothing if I didn’t have anybody to share it with. I wanted a family.
We are so excited for this new chapter in our lives.
Lots of love,
Miles and YN Teller xx
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scottdixon I’m so happy for you, darling! that baby is going to be so loved and so cherished. please pass my congratulations on to miles as well!
-> ynylnteller none of this would have been possible without you, so you’re the real hero here!
user mother is going to be a real mother now!
valkilmer congratulations yn! if you and miles ever need anything at all, you know where to find me (or mercedes and jack)
-> ynylnteller thank you val!! ❤️
glenpowell I am going to be the best godfather this kid has ever had
-> ynylnteller first of all who said you were the godfather?
-> coltonherta yeah it’s gonna be me actually
-> ynylnteller actually it’s going to be neither of you
-> coltonherta but why? I’m already a great uncle?
-> glenpowell yeah so am I!
-> ynylnteller everybody be quiet or we’re making Val the godfather -Miles
-> coltonherta you’d pick the old man over us?!?
-> ynylnteller he *is* less annoying
ashleynewgarden so pleased for you both! this will be your next great adventure! kota is looking forward to having another little buddy to hang out with 🫶🏻
callum_ilott I promise to take good care of the car! rest up and relax over the next nine months, god knows you might never sleep again
user miles is becoming a dilf!!! miles teller is becoming a dilf!!!
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @diorcharles @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @userlando
#miles teller x reader#top gun x reader#top gun maverick x reader#miles teller smau#indycar x reader#indycar rpf#indycar fanfic#top gun fanfic#miles teller fanfic#ig aus#Spotify
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Caleb Headcanons
Since @caleb-pilot has entirely ruined me, and I am now deep in my Caleb fixation I give you my personal headcanons for him. These are largely personal opinions given he's minimally developed by canon, and also heavily influenced by the Caleb Gimmick!
He's an adrenaline junkie, always seeking the next thing that makes him anything intense enough to be worthy of feeling
Caleb has a bit of a drinking problem, he drinks to forget and to remember and when he's drunk he lashes out at everyone
The boy has big wanderer trauma (likely watched his family die when he was a child)
He's hyper-vigilant, to the point of sometimes being jumpy
Caleb pays attention to all of MCs little details, knows all sorts of facts about her that no one else does
He will start a barfight and he will win that fight
He loves symbolism, and reminders of positive things in his life such as apples as an inside joke and clinging to terms of affection like pipsqueak
Caleb absolutely gave MC piggy-back rides all the time as kids and misses doing it now that they're older
He keeps a calendar full of things he wants to remember about his friends and family
He prefers fist bumps over hugs unless its MC because of his hyper-vigilance
Caleb deals with chronic nightmares
He drinks his coffee black
He has a high pain tolerance
(Very personal headcanon) His squad mates nicknamed him Icarus because he takes more risks than he should
He went out of his way to learn how to make all of MCs favorite foods
He keeps a picture of MC in his wallet he won't show anyone
Caleb wears the necklace MC gave him 24/7, in the shower, when he's sleeping, at the gym
Sometimes he texts Zayne to get updates on MCs health because he knows she'll sugar coat it
He is fiercely protective of his family and will defend them immediately
Caleb uses his Evol all the time for the most menial things
He will send slutty pictures without hesitation
His smiles don't always reach his eyes
Caleb has two laughs, one for fitting in and one that comes out more as a wheeze for genuine amusement
He likes junk food and is happy to eat at food stalls or grab convenience food lunches
Caleb is a master paper airplane crafter and is also good at origami (he keeps a box of 999 cranes under his bed, scared to make his wish)
He sings to himself while he flies (he has a pretty good voice)
He's developed a reputation for being a skilled pilot but people sometimes don't want to fly with him due to his impulsivity
Once he almost got thrown out of flight school for threatening a teacher
Many an adult has said he has promise but shows a troubling amount of anger
MC is the only one he'll listen to without question (if she says jump he asks how high)
#love and deepspace#l&ds#lads#caleb love and deepspace#he's my Icarus and I am falling into obsession#caleb x mc
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patron saint of being hot
and a lot of skill and really interesting anecdotes about your life and having professors that give me second hand anxiety bc they seem kinda awful and mean. But mainly just being hot
ty! admittedly my professors are not that bad, ive only had one bad professor that was more incompetent that awful. if you want another anecdote, ill tell you about the only teacher i truly despise to this day (on the tags, cuz its a very dark story)
ask gamerino
#i retook that course with a different professor and passed expectacularly. now for the horrendous teacher#on this story we have vomiting injuries and attempted suicide so watch out#in my last two years of our highschool equivalent i had PE with a teacher that loved to play favorites#if u were on a sport team you were immediately given special treatment and as you might already tell i wasnt. i hate ball sports#i loved exercising but i dreaded PE because of her#i have a condition that made my periods incredibly painful and meself anemic so those weeks were hellish#even though i was a good student she would NEVER let me sit out the navette test. even with a doctors note#i would do my best and then literally go vomit and pass out in the bathroom cuz if i did it on the court i would be berated#that wasnt enough to earn my absolute hatred tho. we now move to the worst day of my life to this day#it was just getting to school from lunch (we could go home and have it there) and i had PE#when i get a text#it was my best friend being cryptic thanking me for being a friend and saying goodbyes#he was going to commit suicide#i absolutely lost my shit as one does and went on a rampage#i couldnt get in contact with anyone (his ex stepdad was abusive and isolated his family) and they didnt let me get out of school#i was desperate and my friends were trying to help me but i didnt know what to do. i called my mom and she called his school and then i just#sat and waited with a friend. while the other classmates did the navette test#the minutes passed. i got message from my bffs number and it was his mom telling me she found him just in time#i broke then. i started sobbing and screaming and scratching my arms and my friend held me and tried to keep me from hurting myself#some other classmates came concerned and tried to help#then the teacher came. she just looked at one of the volleyball girlies who shrugged#she didnt ask if i was ok or if i needed to call someone or go somewhere. she just asked if i planning to do the test#i said no and she left and i kept crying#when i felt stable enough i went to see what had happened and she just failed me. i couldnt give the test any other day and that was that#she simply didnt care#i had to calm myself down while writing this. its no use getting emotional over a teacher that didnt care#but i hate her. she made the worst day of my life worse and she doesnt know and doesnt care#that memory fuels me to never surrender to indifference and make the pain in this world worse#my bff got help he needed after that and our bond is stronger than ever. he never pulled something like that again#thats the story! not gonna tag this babes
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7 vi but instead of food (i get the vibes your vi just straight up doesn't refuse food) crimes or drugs whichever you prefer
(for this ask game)
7. Lots of people don’t have a favorite food drug or crime when put on the spot, but what’s a food or drink drug or crime that your OC would never turn down if someone offered it to them?
...listen the conditions under which our Vi would refuse food are extremely specific but they do exist. Depending on the variant, you might hit that faster or slower, though it varies on the person offering it to her and the circumstances surrounding it. Wereweevil Vi, specifically, will absolutely fucking not refuse food under any circumstances, but she is an outlier and most other Vis actually have a point where they'll say no.
In terms of crimes and drugs... listen, Vi has a sense of self-preservation, and people absolutely don't just hand out drugs either For Free or For No Reason. Getting her to accept doing it is the hard part, if you're not already someone she trusts - what are you, a cop? Gonna tattle on her if she takes your offer? She does, actually, have a fair amount of trust in most of the Underground Tavern regulars, and would probably take up an offer for Illegal Actions if offered, because she trusts they won't try to fuck her over and will probably be willing to back her up if worst comes to worst.
If she's being, like, offered something to try and do, and it's someone she knows, then she has pretty decent assurance that her friends won't deliberately try and kill her, but she might still want to question if it's safe for her species, whether in a "this open job offer might not actually be open to a bug where almost everyone seeing her will immediately assume she's associated with the Bee Kingdom and might report them back to the queen" way or a or "whoever made this drug has never accounted for her species in test runs and there's a solid chance of her experiencing adverse side effects from it" way.
She's not entirely naive - she knows what she's doing, she knows it might be dangerous, and she's only really willing to assume the Tavern bugs have her best interests in mind because of experience. Unless she's being paid for it, she won't take up an offer from just anyone, and she has decent confidence in not getting fucked for taking the offer.
That said... in terms of drugs, the one (1) thing that she might consider getting from Random Unlicenced Sellers She Doesn't Know would be Daydream. Chronic pain reasons, as per usual. If it's getting to autumn and times she Knows that she's gonna run into more Bad Pain Days and her usual dealer's not got enough she might go hunting for another supplier, and in that case - yeah, she'll take random handouts and shady offers, and yeah, she'll probably get fucked over for it. Probably better than lying on the floor unable to do anything due to her body swinging a fire axe into her spinal cord that makes it feel like there's a white-hot rod of metal permanently impaled into her chitin and through half of her vital organs. She might reconsider if it's particularly shady and she's with Team Snakemouth, but being in horrible pain has a way of making you abandon your previous convictions in favor of not having to endure part of your body trying to violently kill you to death by making your entire nervous system fry itself with chronic pain.
With crime if you pay her enough then she'll do basically anything but for profit-free mischief, uhh. Listen if you walk up to her in a bar and say "hey, wanna vandalize something" then she'll probably agree before asking any further questions. Some day this will bite her in the dick but she will probably only learn "plan more when vandalizing things" from it.
#asks#ask games#headcanons#we have one specific fic in which she winds up with one food she absolutely fucking will not eat unless she actively HAS to#as in. “would rather starve for days on the hope of Food That Is Not That than eat it” levels#with the beemerang shes less upset about “it was stolen” and more upset about “it was stolen and shades didnt tell me from who”#but being a bee means she has slightly more leeway on it than. say. a mosquito who shouldnt have been in the hive in the first place#plus depending on how he got it he might just Not Know that it was originally bee tech. equal odds of bee or termite and such#its not necessarily guaranteed and since shes not a part of the hive anymore that chance is SIGNIFICANTLY decreased#and YES shes likely to be in contact with the people that it was stolen from who thus may recognize it and get her in trouble#also necessary context for daydream it is a painkiller that is also occasionally sold as a street drug under the name daydream#known as morpatamine in like. generic medical brand form. though vi might take a few seconds to recognize it under that name#it may be a prescription drug but she has never taken out a prescription in her life and shes not about to start now#it is. VERY strong. produces a “floaty” high. vi takes it for chronic pain reasons because she enjoys not being in pain and is Used To It#we have it as a. semi-consistent vi feature? takes it pre-tsm for pain reasons and then goes cold turkey when she gets hired as an explorer#shes functional under it and could probably actually get More done under it for pain reasons but she still. no longer takes it#this Is Not Good for her. she is in pain that she absolutely does not have to be in for Not Taking Drugs Points awarded by no one.#unfortunately she also thinks that if she tells her teammates about the fact that she has done A Drug and might want to do them again#they will drop her like a hot potato and/or tell her entire family that she is a druggie#because she was still raised in the hive and still retains some of their views on drugs for Herself Specifically#because though obviously her friends are cool & doing a drug is neutral for them it is a sign of deep moral corruption for Vi Specifically#anyways this means that she will go out on a mission while being like an 8-9 on the pain scale and do like. maybe 1 ibuprofen about it#this specific dynamic means that though she trusts kabbu and leif SIGNIFICANTLY more than shades in p much every way#she would never ask one of them to help supervise her use whereas she might ask shades to keep an eye on her#generally this is a bad decision. he will absolutely fuck with her for fun. they both know this wont stop her from asking him again tho#she could probably ask doppel if she didnt want to be told that shes been given forever weed#but doppel has a job to do and she doesnt want to interrupt and plus if he knows shes been Doing A Drug he might be disappointed in her#realistically he already knows and just doesnt care but vis already a bit high strung on it with anyone whose opinion she cares about#we will retag this to put it in the main bf tag in a bit maybe. we are not sure how the fandom proper would respond to this flavor of post#chronic pain hcs tend to be localized to kabbu and undetailed on management. we deal with heavy duty painkillers
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Micolash’s ‘Can somebody, anybody, please look into my eyes?’ and Rom’s ‘I revolt both humanity and the divine, can anyone, anything, please accept me?’. I never realised how they are both absolutely alone in who they are (’: Having no choice but to build a “kind” of their own around themselves (Mico by making corpse marionettes and Rom by rebirthing humans into her spider Kin apparently)
#bloodborne#fandomry rambles#*sets the counter 'X days since I just utilised my pain and existencial trauma to write a BB character better' to 0 again*#i wish i could actually work on my problems instead of escaping into art and pouring my crisis into a morbid videogame character#like i said my priority is to either switch on part time job or go unemployed and literally hunt my food (gov won't help the mentally ill)#days off are just... not enough for me to recover energy at all#let alone having energy for absolutely insane shit like cooking my food or cleaning my room... i've hit critical point recently#i've been denied the light of sun since early july but i am denied the chill embrace of the shadow too now#(good luck deciphering my metaphors)#emptiness. solitude. no way out but to create sort of... conditions that fit my design...?#like misty lake hahaha#i am literally rom#no matter what sweet innocent 'dumb' child you see her as but...#seeing everything and being amalgam of every kind of superior creature in lore does... things to a person#only someone like her would be able to accept so much knowledge and not implode#i think she is called 'idiot' (or 'vacuous' in english version) because like...#anyone else with this sort of knowledge would either go insane or know how to use it to rewrite the universe itself#instead of just 'perceiving' all this knowledge and lay around like a lazy potato#only doing her part by hiding this knowledge from those that aren't ready but her barrier is-#-penetrable because with enough insight you can still see through her concealment#she doesn't mind you see messed up secrets if you want them so much just don't rope unprepared people into it too
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Bloodline of the Sacred Dragons - Chapter 2-8 & 2-9
A small twig cracked in the campfire.
The sun had already set, and the dark of the night spread around them.
"This is the Manual…"
Bleu had opened the ebony box, and stared at the Manual inside. It was a bunch of semi-transparent slabs, set atop the felt covering the box.
He furrowed his brows slightly at the dread he felt coming from the artifact. It seemed he was the only one feeling such pressure from those crystals, due to being a Sacred Dragon.
The moment he extended his fingers towards it, he felt a shock, as if his soul had been gripped tight, so he pulled away in panic. He shuddered, feeling like his soul could be crushed if he did touch it like that.
He felt that it was not meant to be held. But it felt different from something sacred.
"What's wrong," Karin asked, getting the wrong idea from how he acted, "if you can't take it out, I'll do it."
"Right, thanks," he gave the box to her.
As their hands touched, Karin instinctively noticed his fear. She gave a suspicious glance to the Manual. Its crystal sheets shined beautifully, and she couldn't see anything else to it. She took it out of the box with ease, and held it against the light of the fire.
"How is this called a book?" Zylo asked, tilting his head at the object.
It was more comparable to stone slates than a book. The three rectangular crystal slabs shone in all the colors of the rainbow as they reflected the light in a diffuse way. Maybe that was due to an irregular composition, or due to some unseen pattern carved in them. No one could figure out the exact reason. The only thing clear to all of them was that it was in no way a regular book.
"It looks like my crystals, but the shape and size aren't the same," Randolf said, taking a crystal piece from his pocket for comparison. The Manual was larger than a person's two hands placed together, while his piece was slightly bigger than a nail. It was absurd trying to compare them at all.
"Maybe the crystals and the Manual are pieces of the same material. Even if not, I think they were both created by the ancient gods in similar ways."
Krin had her face almost glued to the Manual, inspecting its surface, clear of any writings, as if about to lick the thing.
"If that's the case, then the Manual might be a key to activate something. Yes. That's likely. Very likely."
Pushing against Krin, Tyrin glued his nose on the Manual.
"Wait, don't put your face all over it. Krin, you too, stop that already."
Looking at how they were troubling Karin, Randolf took the two shameless researchers by the collar and dragged them away from her.
"It is a key, of course. The Manual was one of the keys used to wake Dark Dragon. That said, I wonder if the three sheets are all the same. Or if they're meant for different things," Diane mumbled, as she recalled the times where she fought alongside Bleu and Zylo. Her younger sister, the mage Wendy, was sat by her side.
"They might be different. In Parmecia, there's nothing like Dark Dragon. The Sacred Dragons only need the Manual to stabilize the Power of the Earth going out of control," Camallia answered the elf girl after a while.
"As a key, any door it can close, it can also open. Isn't that true, Krin of Rudo Village?"
"Yes, it's as you say, king of Bustoke. As I've told you in the past, the Manual is a double edged sword with the magical power to both seal and release," she gave everyone the same description she had once found within old records.
"A thing this dangerous must be resealed by us, mages of Manarina, as fast as possible, in the temple of Dragonia."
Camallia turned with a harsh glare to Tyrin at his words.
"Then, what about the Sacred Dragons of Parmecia? What about me and the mission I've come to the land for?"
"No matter the case, you don't have the right to take something of Rune to another land."
"…How close-minded. As a mage seeking the golden rule of this world, is this how you deal with such matters?"
"I like to believe we act with wisdom," Tyrin frowned, offended.
"Being wise by yourself in your own little world, is there any meaning to that?" Camallia retorted, not taking a single step back.
Sitting next to Karin, Randolf made a face as if saying "what a big mess this is".
"I'm in agreement with Camallia on this matter. We shouldn't abandon people in need."
Karna joined the conversation with an unusually serious face. No matter what anyone said, she was an exemplary priest.
"In the end, priests are too focused on their doctrine. They should look upon matters objectively like us, mages."
Tyrin gave a look to Krin and Wendy, seeking agreement from them.
"That's right. So speaking objectively, we should let Bleu decide what to do next with this Manual."
Krin's suggestion was not at all what Tyrin expected.
Everyone stared at Bleu, who had been quiet with a troubled face, and at the Manual in Karin's hands.
"You're unlucky, huh, Bleu? To get this troublesome thing pushed on you," Diane said without any sympathy or attempt to comfort him.
"That's not it, Diane," Zylo corrected her. "It is not being pushed on him. He's being trusted to deal with it. As a Sacred Dragon, the Manual is his heritage."
Bleu raised his head to look at Zylo.
'What should I do?' This plea for help was on the tip of his tongue.
Zylo saw through him, and stopped him before the words could come out.
"You have to decide it by yourself. It is your responsibility. No one can push their will onto you."
Bleu was troubled. But, no matter how much he fretted about it, he couldn't find an answer, a light on the end of that deep tunnel.
As a Sacred Dragon, should he seal to Manual to protect it, as per their ancient duty? Or should he risk it in the journey to Parmecia to save his kind? Or maybe destroying it right there was the correct choice.
After all, what did it mean to be a Sacred Dragon? Bleu couldn't even figure that out. Should a Sacred Dragon be someone capable of making these heavy choices? Of standing above the people and deciding everything?
The determination he had found before to cross to Parmecia had crumbled once he got here.
He felt that deciding things by himself was very risky.
If the Manual was stolen by monsters, destruction would befall the world. The only way to perfectly avoid that was to abandon his kind.
The truth is, it was possible to save the Sacred Dragons and then seal the Manual after that. However, that would require something from him. He would have to protect the Manual from all the devils…
Bleu had not found enough confidence in himself to do so.
Without help from the others, he hadn't even been able to protect Karin.
"Bleu…"
Karin understood his pain so much it hurt.
"Don't decide this as what a Sacred Dragon should do, but as yourself. Because before being a dragon, you are Bleu. I believe in you."
Zylo nodded deeply at Karin's words.
"I also trust you, that's why I'm leaving it all in your hands. You should trust your allies more as well. The reason one hero was able to seal Dark Dragon in the past is because he had many people by his side. By himself, he wouldn't have been able to do anything. When many people join forces, their power shine brighter. That is why we became known as the Shining Force."
Diane agreed with him.
Bleu looked back fondly at the times he fought alongside those two. Besides them there was Gort, and Alef, and so many other companions. And now too, he found himself surrounded by many allies. Finally, he thought back on the Silver Dragon's deep blue eyes. More people had been waiting for him far too long, beyond the ocean.
"That's right, if you put your faith in people, you can also ask them for help. You should rely on others, us, more often."
Krin's words hit the mark. Yes, to not rely on others was the same as not trusting them.
"Let's go to Uranbatol…" he declared, "we'll defeat the beasts in the coast, and cross the ocean to Parmecia."
Some breathed in relief, some nodded in silence, some made troubled faces, there were all kinds of conflicted reactions. But no one objected. The way ahead had been decided.
Tyrin still raised another small issue, but was reassured once Zylo told him he'd send a messenger to Otrant to communicate the situation.
"We'll return to Bustoke tomorrow. We came here pursuing the devils that had suddenly invaded, and ended up too far from our country. We cannot leave it empty like in the past. We also have to escort back the injured party from Manarina that we rescued."
Hearing that from Zylo, Krin knocked her hands together in realization.
"Being pursued by the forces of Bustoke, the devils hastened their pace. That's why we encountered them sooner than we expected."
"In the end, it turned out well for us. But, we can't let our guard down yet. We will search the region for monsters before heading back, but it might be difficult to get them out of hiding. Until you reach the Pao Plains, take Wendy with you for more protection."
The lively elf girl introduced herself to the group.
"Let's place a simple seal on the Manual to protect it along the way."
By her suggestion, the three mages prepared to seal the ebony box with the Manual.
The seal of Coeurl van Coeur.
It was classified as a simple seal. However, its strength could be increased depending on the materials used. The greatest one was dragon blood. In that case, it could also be called the Dragon Blood Crystal seal.
With Camallia and everyone else watching, the sealing ritual began.
Wendy took several drops of blood from Bleu, and inscribed the seal on the ebony box. She, Krin and Tyrin created enchanted chains with the Sacred Dragon blood, wrapping them around the box.
"With this, this box cannot be opened until it receives your blood again. Someone could still get to the Manual by destroying the box, but they'd be risking destroying the Manual itself with an attack like that."
Three blood stains marked the box, shining like small garnets. Wendy picked the box up and gave it to Bleu.
Feeding more twigs to the bonfire, the group heading to Pao Plains went to sleep.
"Will it be okay, letting just them go ahead?" Diane asked Zylo when switch night-watch turns with him. "I'm wondering about that devil, the one the priest called Ziduur."
"He was wounded, so he shouldn't strike again too soon. In the off chance he does, Wendy will be with them so there isn't much need to worry. Or, maybe you're itching to go with them too?" Zylo laughed knowingly.
"Oh, who knows?" She played dumb.
"We left Stetra and old Kokichi taking care of Bustoke, but we can't leave the country for any longer than this. Besides, if they didn't ask for our help, we shouldn't interfere. They have made their own decisions and will see them through by themselves. This is Bleu's journey, not ours. It's frustrating, but we don't have a reason to be in this new Shining Force this time. Besides, you still have a lot of things to do back in Bustoke."
"Please go a little easy on me, Lord Zylo."
Excusing herself gently, she left back to her own spot.
***9***
Bleu woke up in the middle of the night, and looked over all his companions sleeping around him.
They all had very different views, yet had placed their trust in him. He had to protect them.
Camallia had said it once. Sacred Dragons are the ultimate guardians.
In that case, what should he protect? It shouldn't be just the Manual, like his race had done so far.
But the Manual was back now.
Bleu took a look at Karin's face, sound asleep under his wing.
It should be his responsibility to protect her. But, if one day he had to choose between the two…
As a Sacred Dragon, and as Bleu, which one would he pick?
The black of the box in Karin's hands was as frightening to him as the darkness of the night.
Translation notes:
As far as I can tell, "Golden Rule" as it's written in Camallia's line refers to the ethical principle of treating others as one wishes to be treated. But the way she says mages seek this rule of the world makes it feel more like some natural principle. I feel like I might be missing something in that conversation, but after days mulling it over I couldn't figure anything out, so i stuck as close as possible to the literal wording.
Karna uses the very formal pronoun "watakushi" when supporting Camallia, something she didn't even in the last time she got serious and formal about her convictions (before entering the dwarves' passage). She's really putting as much weight as she can on her decision here.
Again, the novel avoids using Max's name. I felt it didn't flow too bad here though since he's used as kind of an example only, so i kept the wording this time.
Would a japanese translation truly be complete without discussing the word 仲間 (nakama)? Of course not. If you have never read a shonen manga before, first of all good for you, and second, nakama is a very loose word that can refer to people in the same group, activity, or even just some category, like family or such. This means Bleu uses the same word to refer to his old allies, his current ones, and the dragons of Parmecia, since they are fellows of the same race.
I could not find a way to keep the same wording so that paragraph is not as fun, but hopefully the meaning still came across.
I don't know why the author highlights Alef and Gort of all people. Alef and Torasu are some of the first members to join the force after Bleu, so that might be it, but I see no connection between him and Gort. I legit wonder if the author meant Torasu instead. But that's just speculation on a very short line.
The seal name. Boy was this a headache. "Couer" is "heart" in french, which makes sense for a blood based seal. Meanwhile, Couerl is... the name of a cat-like SF species, also used in Final Fantasy and the inspiration for D&D's Displacer Beasts. That, doesn't sound like it should be here, but I could not find another reading for that katakana, and maybe it's just meant to be similar words?? god knows what the "van" is doing here too, i'm been wrestling this name for two days, i'm just tired at this point, it's phoneme soup.
Stetra is the medicine expert that makes Lunar Dew for Zylo in the game. I think the english version doesn't name him, so now you know.
Kokichi being mentioned here contradicts the guide book epilogue where he went to live in Rindo instead. Between this and Earnest it's clear the novel did not consider that guide book for anything.
#shining series#shining force#shining force 2#shining force novel translation#bloodline of the sacred dragons#sf bleu#again. what a great lesson he has just learned. really good. don't look at the page count#sf karin#i knew her lines from the video summaries and boy. what a contrast from game karin#back then i wondered if it was legit character growth or just the writer ignoring her kid self for the sake of a perfect love interest#i honestly don't have a clear opinion on this yet!#the novel does not acknowledge the way she cared about him 'acting like a real dragon' as a kid. i miss that a bit#but she has grown since chapter 1#she was forced to reevaluate her relationship with him. to stop seeing him as someone she has to guide into growing right#and the sacred dragon thing is now no longer the thing tying him to rudo but something tying him to the manual and another land#so i feel it makes sense. she is trying to be better for him while also feeling a little desperately clingy#it is a pain though that she basically no characterization beyond him though#her sister has been around for two whole chapters and we don't really get much of their relationship#karna is also growing attached to her and it's not reciprocal and we don't even get anything from this lack of reciprocity#sfbotsd camallia#sf2 tyrin piper#facts and logic guy is not a surprising characterization but boy is it an unpleasant one#sf2 karna twiggy#only person with morals in this disaster#sf2 randolf dongo#sf krin#sf zylo#sf diane#she's so funny. so absolutely merciless. 'lol you're stuck with this dumb artifact that sucks lol'#i legit already headcanoned her as bad with people's feelings so that was great to read
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It's as if they're saying... "Why... why did you and Imbibitor Lunae commit such an unforgivable sin?"
I know that you have no interest in my answer.
...which is why I asked the question as you looked me straight in the eye. I've asked myself that same question infinite times... but was never able to find the answer...
Why... why is it that only the abominations can return time and time again...?
Why does someone like her have to be buried, burned to ash, and eventually forgotten...? Why!?
This play on questions that await no answer, yet are in their way a response to what was asked, is so good
#The way they manauver around silences and how they don't say straight away what they mean and meant and felt and thought#yet know and understand even in their not sharing the other's position#I love how it works with Jin.gliu's understanding of Blade seeking B.ailu but not taking her medication‚#hoping for a different kind of treatment‚ just as she had#They stood in opposite sides of a board‚ with totally contrary opinions on the same matter‚ yet ended on the other side of each other#So similar both in stories‚ influences‚ relations and personality in some ways. So similar in movements in the end#So similar in drive to live beyond their death at the end of it all. Unable to let go and move on#Holding on to grudges and hatred and their sword if only to keep the pain and the memory alive if it's all that rests#I love them so much#I talk too much#Traces#Fragments and scraps#Why did you do it? Why is it that only monstrosities come back? Why did you do it? Why does she stay dead while my flesh restores itself?#Why did you do it? But seeing Bail.u is the best medicine she could have hoped for. And he did it‚ but is full of regrets#The absolute reproach and yet the mutual understanding is so good. It feels so natural and coherent. So human#I truly love them and their dynamic a lot#Also‚ obsessed with the fact that Blade says she stabbed him through his heart in the final blow‚ and how the image reflects it#'In the end‚ you stabbed me through the heart and left me and the sword in that withered grave'#'最后‚ 你刺出穿心一击‚ 把我和剑一起留在了那片枯冢'#I can't tell just how moved this whole quest makes me and how satisfactory it was to me haha#The Gongshu reference makes me want to scream every time#The weight of 'you left me and the sword' with how Blade and that sword are linked in life and death and change of being and name#Avfkabfkkd I couldn't love him more
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My dads finally going out of town
I get 4 days of unimpeded dog training
#i mean thats the least of why ive been ready for him to leave#hes also just been annoying as fuck lately and i need a break from him#he'll go along with the dog training once its started hes just a stubborn asshole that wont try new training methods cuz its not#what he was taught was most effective#and also if i try to tell him what to do without showing him why it works he'll get all grumbly and be all ''dont tell me how to#train my dog''#and obviously im not expecting a ton of progress in only 4 days#but shes smart so she should pick up on the clicker=good shit pretty quick#i will bully my dad into using less aversive training methods if its the last thing i do#mostly cuz i hate seeing chewby anxious but also cuz his yelling makes ME anxious#also its kind of embarrassing to be around him when chewby is barking at someone and he starts counting to 3 like shes a little kid#and then going ''whatd i say??'' when she doesnt listen#like. i get mike taught her to respond to counting like that#but its clearly not that effective#based on how precious reacts to it imma say he also pairs it with...other aversive methods..which i am absolutely not ok with#like i get that shes not my dog but nah man we aint fuckin doin that#and its honestly painful to watch#like im not like. a professional or anything. no where near that. but idk man. yelling does not seem to be working so maybe#try something else? maybe actually try working with her a bit?#outside of when shes doing thing you dont want her doing?#shes a smart dog that has a lot of energy. she will absolutely benefit from training sessions#if i knew anywhere near by for sheep herding training id see if she liked that lol#she has the focus for it#shes got the herding dog stare down
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MARCILLE: So I was wondering...what kind of person is your wife?
ESPRIT DE CORPS (Easy: Success): She'll never be satisfied with bare minimum answers. She wants to know more about you, to connect with you on a genuine interpersonal level.
LOGIC (Easy: Failure): This is obviously not what you want. You are an impenetrable fortress of solitude, and she should respect that.
PAIN THRESHOLD: Also, it's an embarrassing subject.
AUTHORITY (Medium: Success): Well fuck that- Chilchuck Tims does NOT get embarrassed, especially not in front of a mere Wöman. You absolutely cannot tell her the real truth about your marriage and how it ended. It would harm your professional reputation. You've got to redirect this line of questioning.
1. "I'd rather not talk about my personal life on the clock."
2. [Drama- Legendary 14] "What about YOUR love life, Marcille? Have you met any cute boys lately? Tell me about all the cute BOYS you're into, Marcille."
3. Simply ignore her question and hope she doesn't ask it again.
4. [Suggestion- Challenging 12] Lie convincingly about a less embarrassing situation than your wife leaving you and moving in with your daughter. It's very important that whatever lie you come up with is less interesting than the real story, and puts you in a good light to protect your reputation and maintain your professionalism.
CHECK FAILURE!
You:
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Whenever I talk about the medical neglect and ableism I've encountered as a victim of the healthcare system, there's always some cockwaffle who feels entitled to come into my inbox and make the argument of "not all doctors" while talking about how "people like them" (because it's always someone in a field of medicine who does this) are doing their best and it's really hard because so many people fake being ill to get on welfare (Yikes), but like, yeah, obviously #not all doctors, because if all doctors were negligent, bullying scum bags, I'd be dead.
But here's the thing: while I truly believe that the majority of doctors are doing their best in a system stacked against them and their patients, their presence does not negate the mass harm caused by the bad ones. And there are far more bad ones than you realize.
Fuck, John Oliver literally did a segment on this last week:
youtube
Yes, the truly bad, malicious doctors are in the minority. Most are just horrifically burned out and fighting a losing battle against a system, killing both them and their patients through a lack of funding and resources and profound overwork.
But the malicious ones do exist, and they will go out of their way to harm patients who don't kowtow to them.
I almost lost my life because when I was in my early twenties, I told a doctor I didn't think she was listening to me, and I disagreed with her assessment of my mental health (she was not a mental health doctor, and I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain). She retaliated by putting "non-compliant" in my file.
There was also a fun little "doesn't show respect" note too that lives rent-free in my head because I know I wasn't rude. I was polite. I just didn't agree with her, and my refusal to accept her off-handed comment that "you probably have bipolar or BPD" (again, I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain) meant I was "refusing care."
I wasn't. I just refused to be slapped with a mood/personality disorder when I was there because I kept fucking fainting when I stood up.
(Spoiler alert: it was dysautonomia)
That "non-compliant" marker followed me around for years. It followed me across an ocean and effectively ensured that any doctor I saw was going to treat me like absolute dogshit because no one wants to help Difficult Patients. It wasn't until I was so undeniably ill, literally on the brink of death, that anyone helped me.
I'm alive because of a good doctor. And all the good ones that came after him because of him.
So, I know they exist. You don't have to tell me that.
But I really fucking need you to acknowledge the bad ones and that you're part of a system with a long, long history of abusing minorities and vulnerable people. I need you to acknowledge that because it's the only way we're going to survive this godforsaken nightmare and make things better.
So yeah, #notalldoctors, but if you feel the need to say that because someone talking about being literally left to die by the medical system hurts your feelings, I'm going to have to ask you to take a step back and ask yourself if you're going into medicine for the right reasons.
Namely: do you want to help people, even the "difficult" ones?
Even the ones who might disagree with you?
Even if they're on welfare?
Even if they'll never get "better" in a way that means "cured"?
Just a thought. But hey, what do I know. I'm just someone who experienced hemolytic anemia because doctors kept telling me I was anxious and needed to exercise more 🤷♀️.
#chronic health tag#medical abuse#medical neglect#medical#ableism#to all the good health care workers who follow me and leave supportive comments: I appreciate you so much#but you need to come get your fellow drs#and idk#give 'em a shake or something#Youtube
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Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.
But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.
That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.
This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.
Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.
If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.
#it's a wonderful life#i know i've probably reached my quota of long posts about this movie#but i kept thinking about it and wanted to organize my thoughts into something a bit more refined#even though i'm mostly just restating what i said yesterday
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Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?
Reckless Attack ❣
Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb.
❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav.
❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore.
❥ Act 2 spoilers.
❥ They/them pronouns for Tav.
❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!
An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.
Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.
Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.
Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.
A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.
Well.
Fuck.
ASTARION
"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”
Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.
They look away.
"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.
Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”
“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.
This time, it is different.
They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.
Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.
“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."
Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."
"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.
"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.
"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"
They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.
Fuck. Their head spins in circles.
"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"
"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."
Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.
"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"
"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"
"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"
"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.
He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.
At least there, they will be safe.
"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."
Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.
He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.
"Astarion," they plead.
He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.
"I almost lost the sun of my life today."
When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.
"It will not happen again."
GALE
"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.
He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."
His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.
"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"
"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.
Oh no. He knows that look.
They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?
No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."
"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"
"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.
Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?
He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.
"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."
The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?
No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.
"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."
He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.
"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.
They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.
"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.
KARLACH
"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.
They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.
"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."
Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.
All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.
Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."
"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."
Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.
She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.
She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."
"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."
Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."
"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."
"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"
"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"
"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.
"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"
Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.
"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.
"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."
"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."
❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 x reader#bg3 x you#baldur's gate 3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 x you#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion#astarion x tav#gale x reader#gale x you#gale x tav#karlach x reader#karlach x you#karlach x tav#shadowheart#halsin#halsin is always just there. like. yeah ok guys. whatever
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One-sided Love Exist... (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)
Summary: You have been in love with your fiancé, but all you know is that he isn't in love with you until you do something about it.
Notes: I got this inspiration from @mayulla, their story is here. Also, I might or might not do a part 2 for this story so wait on that
Warning: fake love, forced love, obsession, I don't condone these behaviors, I just write it.
Love.
Something you have always wished for to happen to you. All of the love stories you have read. You wished to be the princess saved by her knight or to be a princess who saves the one she loves. That was all you wanted. A knight or a prince in shining armor. That's where your fiancé came in.
A duke's son. Your fiancé, Alaric de Caius. He had seemed to fit the mold, perfectly. He looked regal and handsome with his black hair and dark blue eyes. You were only 9 when you had met him, but you couldn't help but smile when you first saw him.
Overtime you had absolutely fallen in love with him. He was a man of morals, he believe in the same things as you of what was right and wrong, he was academically talented, he was athletically talented, and he treated people around him the same whether or not they held a title.
A wonderful man.
But the problems arose when you had seen he had never paid attention towards you.
He never looked you way, seemed to say anything towards you, or seem to acknowledge you at all.
"Good morning Alaric!"
He wouldn't look.
You didn't understand why he ignored you. His indifference towards you, hurt. You didn't know if it was your ego that was hurting or it was truly your heart that was hurting, but something was in pain. But you didn't give up! Both of you were bound to get married to each other, one day!
Often talking to him first, soon enough he responded.
Bringing sweets such as cookies or sweet bread from the kitchen. Watching him eat it with no signs of disgust, might have made your day.
But you must also strive hard too! To be worthy of being a Duchess, you must help him by studying, taking up hobbies such as perfecting painting, embroidery and writing poems that have deep meanings. You must also know how to manage a household, so you asked your father if you could learn how to manage the servant's wages and everything going on in the household.
Everything you did was for him.
You did not partake in gossip with your bestest of friends, you didn't spread malicious rumors about someone, and you tried not to do the most selfish thing if there was a selfless option. Your friends, love you but saw you in pain. "Why do you do these stressful things (y/n)?" they would constantly ask.
"Because I am going to be future Duchess one day, I must prepare!" You would say cheerfully.
Alina Thompson.
Her family was new money. Her father was a merchant who was able to strike gold in selling a once thought, rare ore. Opening trades with the east, she has risen to become the daughter or Baron Thompson.
Your friends didn't like her. One of them saying, "There is something off about her..." and another saying, "Why does she look at Duke Caius like that..."
You had brought it up to Alaric one day. He said there was, "Nothing to worry about, she is just an acquaintance.", and at first you didn't worry, heck you even befriended her. She was pretty. Her hair, long and blonde, her eyes a bright green color like emeralds, and her smile the brightest you have ever seen. She often wore pink and you did as well. But she always seemed to not get along with your friends after a few meetings. Or any noble women in fact. She had always stirred the pot with the other women in high society, supposedly acting different as if she had 2 different personalities in front of others. But she had always gotten along with the men. They spoke high praises of her. From her looks to personality. She even had admirers of her own. She was perfect, but most women disliked her. But you didn't think anything of it.
Until the day of the royal ball.
You saw with your very own eyes. Alaric's arm, being held by her's. She had the brightest, most shameless smile that day. All the men looked uncomfortable while the women were shocked. It was no secret that you and Alaric were engaged. And it was definitely no secret that you were in love with him.
They danced together. They wore matching outfits. Even the flowers on both of their corsages were the same. He had smiled at her as they were dancing. He gave her, her first dance of high society at her first ball, a royal one in fact. There was no way he had no idea what he meant by his actions. Your heart shattered as your friends got mad at both of them.
"Why that sly fox! How could she betray your kindness like this?!"
"(y/n)! If you need to I can kill him myself!"
"No!" you had quietly yelled out.
You friends looked at you, worried on their faces. "(b/s/f #1), (b/s/f #2), I need to...go..."
You ran away towards the royal garden, letting your tears to flow down.
Once you got home, you destroyed the books, the gifts he gave you and finally sat down on the floor and cried you heart out.
Your heart had shattered that day, nothing felt like it was going to fix it. It felt like the end of the world.
The next day came, and you holed yourself up in your room.
Your bedroom door would not open. Nothing will work. Your father was worried, your friends, pestered at you, and the servants knock and check up on you as well. But even though you knew all these people cared, you truly only wanted one person to come and see you, Alaric.
You don't know if you were a masochist or not, but you did want answers.
Soon, one of the maids came in. "Leave me alone..." you mumbled in your pillow.
"No. Duke Caius is here to visit you. So I must get you ready, young lady."
You looked up at the maid as she chuckled. "What's so funny?" you asked almost like a pouting child.
"Your eyes are puffy my lady. If you do not want the Duke to notice it, I suggest you get ready, now."
You pouted as you got up.
The next thing you knew, you had seen Alaric. His perfectly combed over hair, his eyes, calm, and the placement of his lapels, in order as followed. You had bowed your head down slightly, as he sat down at the table.
You didn't even bother looking at him. If you did, you didn't think you could bear it. It was an embarrassing night for you. All you did was look at your tea, slowly stirring the sugar cube, looking at it and spacing out in the process.
"(y/n)?"
You looked up. This was the first time he had ever called out your name. He had always referred to you as Lady (l/n), out of formality, but he has never called out your name like you do his.
"Did you hear what I said?"
You took a moment and shook your head. "No, I'm sorry..."
"That's okay, I can say it again."
Why did your heart tug at this? You felt yourself being anxious for what he wanted to say. But first you wanted the answer to why he brought Alina to the royal ball the other night.
"I had brought out Lady Thompson to the ball a few nights ago, because of her father. He had wanted to make sure his daughter secured an escort for her first royal ball. He had insisted I had better escort her, otherwise she wouldn't come."
An excuse.
"I helped her father find the rare ore that had made him Baron. I must help him again."
Lies.
"So that's your excuse..." you mumbled out of your mouth.
He looked at you, his eyes were still. He had no emotion after what you had just said. "(y/n), it's the truth."
"Lies. We are engaged, but my debutant ball and first royal ball, you didn't escort me at all."
You remember it well. He had said he was busy, and you thought nothing of it, because he wouldn't escort or dance with anyone else anyways.
"When we had our first dance, you didn't even look at me."
It broke your heart that night when you both finally had that first dance you had been waiting for, only to be sad when he didn't smile, look or seemed to be enjoying it in any way.
"I had wanted us to get matching outfits, but you held it off saying, 'you hadn't gotten measured yet'."
He would get measured for an outfit for another woman, but not you? His own fiancé?
You felt nothing but anger now towards him. "Was it a waste of my time to devote it all towards you? I know your favorite snacks, colors, meal, drink, what to do as duchess..."
You felt like you were about to cry again, but tried to hold it in. "WAS IT ALL FOR NOTHING?!" your hands slammed the table as you felt your tears coming down your face as you looked at him.
Hoping he would say it wasn't in vain. That all of these things you did for him, would mean something.
"I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."
You couldn't believe you had ever loved this man.
You immediately went back inside, and into your room to cry once more.
Alaric has never needed anyone close to him.
He never understood you and your stupid antics to get closer towards him. From bringing snacks, to gifting the books he so wanted, to talking to him way to often.
He had an alright childhood. His father was sick and his mother was dead from childbirth, so he needed to become duke heir at a young age. Relying on himself to make the right or wrong decisions while his father's health deteriorated overtime.
His father wanted him to get married to his close friend, Marquis (l/n), so he arranged the engagement before his death, and after his death when he was 15, he kept it on because it was one of his father's final wishes. To see their families united.
But sometimes he couldn't stand (y/n). When he first met her, he had no opinions of her, other than the fact that she was nothing more than a clumsy girl trying to get his attention.
She was trying to live out fairytale romances through him. She had wanted him to be her knight in shining armor. And he didn't care for it.
He ignored her until she kept on pestering him.
Soon, they did their small talks.
He ignored the food she had gave him.
Until he ate it because he was hungry and it was his favorites.
He ignored her all throughout his childhood, because he never needed her as much as he did. He saw her as pathetic, but he couldn't help but fuel her pathetic attempts to get him to love her.
He did didn't need her. He didn't need her at all.
Plus, she was well liked. Both women and men liked her. But sometimes those men that liked her too much got on his nerves to the point of threatening them into silence. She didn't need him, she wanted him. And he didn't need her as well.
But he thought he felt something when he met Alina for the first time. But later, he realized it was nothing more than curiosity. But whenever he was around (y/n), there was always a feeling that he didn't know what it was, but always put it off, until it came creeping onto him whenever he was with Alina.
It was clear she was jealous of (y/n) and her life, so she had tried to mimic her. Her cheery attitude, beautiful smile, and her happy-go-lucky demeanor, even though he could tell that she was nothing more than hollow shell of an impression. She did all these things so that he could pay attention to her. But Alina was worse than (y/n).
Her personality and character are terrible.
She always seemed to get into fights with the other women. Whether petty drama or something a tad bit more serious. She had always seem to never get along with them. Unlike (y/n).
She was terrible at any financial things. Counting money properly, distributing money equally, and figuring out the budget. Unlike (y/n)
She had always seemed to look at others as if she was better than them. Often subtly bragging a new pendant, earrings, bracelet, shoes, dress, or hair accessories. Unlike (y/n)
Her tea was awful to drink. She always stepped on someone's toes for no good reason. Her embroidery was lackluster. Her paintings, a clear imitation. Unlike (y/n).
He remembered a time where (y/n)'s tea was bitter, when she stepped on someone's feet while dancing, when her paintings were dull, and when she had a hard time managing money. It was absolutely a clumsy and nerve-racking time. But slowly, it had shown improvement, unlike Alina's tea.
All of these hobbies that Alina had picked up and all of her personal quirks have cause him to realize one thing.
He would never look her way.
He picked Alina because he thought he could finally drive (y/n) away from her antics and say he is not interested in her at all.
When he went to the royal ball and was dancing with Alina, all he could ever think of was how (y/n) would react in the same situation. Her bright smile, cheerful eyes and glowing aura would all be very lovely. He couldn't help but unconsciously smile during the dance, and it seemed to have fueled Alina's determination to take her down.
But now he wonders why he had those thoughts during the dance with Alina.
She had holed up in her manor ever since that royal ball.
Alaric didn't see her. No letter, no snacks, no anything. Nothing had came. He should be elated. Happy. Excited. Joyful.
But all he felt was a big hole. A big empty hole somewhere in his body.
He had thought he had heard her all over the place. "Alaric. You need to stop overworking yourself to death! You might get sick!"
"It's none of your concerns, Lady (l/n)."
"Huh?"
He looked up from his paperwork, only to see his secretary looking at him, confused? "What did you say, Your Grace?"'
He looked down at his paperwork. "Nothing of note."
It happened again when he was reading through the manor's ledgers. "Can I help you with that Alaric? I'm very good with ledgers!"
"It is fine Lady (l/n)."
"Your Grace?"
Once again, he looked up only to see his butler, looking at him confused.
He felt like he was going insane.
He had developed a high fever one day from overworking. His butler called in the family's doctor, and the doctor said to take a break today.
But his fever kept on running, and the maids didn't know what to do. They gave him water that was too hot, his body kept on sweating, and they gave him food too salty for his condition. They were all incompetent when he was sick all of the sudden. And to top it off, his secretary still needed him to do paperwork for the estate.
During his time with his fever, he unconsciously only thought to see one person. (y/n).
He had wanted her to be by his side when he was sick. To take care of him and to see him recover. He wanted her to scold at him for overworking. He wanted to see her happy after he did recover from this fever. He had wanted to see her, no, he felt like he needed to see her.
He slowly opened his eyes as he was asleep for a bit. He thought he saw her in his groggy state. "...(y/n)..?"
Only to finally see clearly. It was Alina. And she looked pissed, but he was even more pissed. "How dare you! How dare you call out the name of that woman when I'm here?!"
He got up and yelled. "GUARDS!"
She got mad. "Oh, now you're calling the guards?! I came here to help you! And this is what I get?!"
He looked at her with contempt. "How did you know I was sick?"
She looked anxious. "The butler told me! He contacted me with a letter! Look!"
She pulled out a messily handwritten letter as people came up towards his room. His secretary and butler came to his side. "Who is this?" his secretary asked.
Alaric's head was banging, but managed to respond. "Lady Thompson. I do not know how she got here."
Alina looked scarred as the secretary called a maid to call the guards. "How did you get in here Lady Thompson?"
"I got here because the butler told me to come here because His Grace is sick!"
The butler looked confused. "I do not recall writing a letter to anyone."
Alina got mad. "Yes you did! I have the evidence!"
She held her letter as the secretary grabbed it out of her hands. "Butler, is this your handwriting?"
The butler fixed his glasses and shook his head. "I do not write this sloppily, even when writing fast."
Alina got even more mad as the guard got up the stairs. "Your Grace?"
"Take her away, and make sure she never sets foot in the estate again."
"Wha..? HEY!" The guards took Alina while she protested. All the servants went back to work as his secretary looked at him. "I will investigate where that letter came from, Your Grace."
Alaric looked at the ceiling as he started to lay down in his bed. "There is no need. But do investigate how she got in here and how she knew. We might have a stalker on our hands if I'm not careful..."
His secretary nodded. "Yes Your Grace, I hope you recover quickly, soon."
All he could do is stare up to the ceiling. Thinking. If (y/n) had done this, maybe he wouldn't had been as mad as he was back there. Maybe he would had enjoyed her trying to fumble out a response of how she knew he was sick. Maybe he would had enjoyed her antics of trying to cure him of his fever.
He couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly fell back asleep, dreaming.
When he had gotten better after 3 days, he immediately went to the (l/n) estate. He didn't know why, but he needed to go there after his fever.
He was led to the garden as he waited for her to get ready. Then he looked around. The garden was filled with flowers. Pink, white, purple, and blue flowers seemed to be her favorite. The servants brought out her favorite tea set. A pink and white ceramic one. He has only seen it every time she had hosted her friends. She only brought out the other tea sets with him.
She looked different. She looked less lively. Her skin looked pale, her eyes a bit puffy and her hands fiddling with the tea cup, nervously.
He had only brought up his purpose at being in at the royal ball with Alina, when she started talking about his shortcomings in their relationship.
How he didn't accompany her to her first ball, didn't look at her for their first dance, and how he always gave an excuse for not wearing matching outfits.
But something came out of his mouth when talking to her. "I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."
He felt annoyed at her behavior. She got too clingy and annoying now. Bringing up insignificant things. She got annoying in this very moment.
She soon ran away as he left the (l/n) estate.
He wanted to go home and rid his memories of her immature behavior. Hoping that her behavior won't continue again.
A/N: I should do a part 2. But you'll have to wait a while.
#yandere x reader#yandere childhood friend#yandere oc x reader#yandere male x reader#yandere male#yandere#yandere duke#yandere duke x reader#x f reader
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General Adam Headcanons
SFW
100% dresses like Adam Sandler under the robe
Pronounces bruh like “brah” unironically
Has a high body count, but not as high as you’d expect
He has abandonment issues cause of Lilith and Eve
He’d never admit it but losing both Lilith and Eve to Lucifer really fucked him up
Lilith left him for Lucifer, and Eve cheated on him with Lucifer
Due to knowing the pain of being cheated on, he will never cheat despite the fuckboy persona
Man can actually settle down with the right person
Wears his mask all the fucking time, he only takes it off to sleep
He thinks it makes him look badass and his favorite feature is the horns
He’s tall as fuck (6’5) but he’s kind of thin, so he wears a big ass robe to make up for it
You can only tell by his arms
He likes to appear big
His favorite thing about himself is his dick (surprise)
Listens to heavy metal
Can’t cook for shit
Needs therapy but will never accept therapy
Doesn’t realize how misogynistic he is and if you tried to tell him he would get defensive
“What, I fucking love women, they’re hot.”
Says “nuh uh”
Cried in front of Lute once– they never talk about it
Shockingly, he doesn’t have any STD’s and he’s very proud of that
Sees Lute as a best friend but he’d never let her know she means that much to him
Has a colorful vocabulary of cuss words and unique nicknames, ie “Danger Tits”
Is really good at coming up with unique insults too
Never get into banter with him, he will hurt your feelings
Sleeps like a rock but moves a lot in his sleep
Seriously, he’ll hit every position in one night
His band is actually really popular in Heaven, and he’s renowned for being the best guitarist
Of course, that only strokes his ego
Ego bigger than his dick, for real
But if you can get past his ego, he can be fun to be around
Touch starved
Cares for very few people, but he would die for the people he does care about
NSFW
Absolutely has a size kink
He’s tall and he loves to be able to look down at his partner
It makes him feel powerful, but he also finds it cute
Has tried every sex position possible but his favorite is missionary
Rarely does he do missionary however because he only likes it with someone he cares about
Phenomal at giving head
He has a long tongue and he knows his way around a vagina
Actually has a big dick, he’s not kidding
Like no wonder he walks around like he’s a god
Also has a virginity kink and it’s definately related to his abandonment issues but he’ll never address that
Whenever he has sex, he always goes for a round 2 in the shower
Actually hates being called things like “daddy” and “master”
While he has some kinks, he’s actually not a very kinky guy
But he’s down to try anything
Has been pegged, doesn’t prefer it
His third and final kink is a breeding kink
He has no idea why but its imperative that he finishes inside his partner
Messy, loves being feral in the bedroom
The kind of guy who’s gone right after a hookup
But if he has a partner, he insists on cuddling after sex
Perfers tits over ass
Will bury his face in his partner’s while they cuddle
One time he came from looking at himself in a mirror during a hookup
Eye contact goes crazy with a partner
Needs to see partner’s every reaction and expression
Also needs control the whole time
Will never sub again, he hated it
#hazbin adam#adam x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel#hazbin lute#x reader#headcanons#hazbin lucifer#hazbin sir pentious#hazbin niffty
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“Oh, fuck.”
The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.
“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”
“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”
“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.
They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.
“You still okay?”
“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”
She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”
“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”
“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”
“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”
“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”
“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”
“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”
“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”
“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”
“Wha — you do so!”
She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.
“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”
“And you deserved it,” she says primly.
He gapes. “I did not!”
“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”
She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!
“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.
Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”
“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”
“Literally no.”
Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.
“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”
Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.
“Hey, Will.”
He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.
“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”
Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”
He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.
She shrugs.
“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”
Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.
The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.
But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.
With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.
“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.
“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.
Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”
“You said.”
“It’s just busy, is all.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”
“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”
“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”
Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.
“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”
Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”
“Shoot.”
Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.
Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.
“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”
Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.
Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.
Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.
“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”
Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —
“Nico!”
The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.
Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.
“Nico! Hi!”
“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.
“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”
Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”
Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.
“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.
“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”
Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”
“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”
“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.
“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”
A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.
“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”
Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”
“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”
A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”
Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”
“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”
“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”
“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.
On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.
Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.
“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”
“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”
Will’s face is a similar shade.
“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”
Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.
“That better?” he asks softly.
Nico swallows. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”
“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.
Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”
With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.
“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”
“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.
Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.
“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”
Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.
“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”
Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”
Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.
“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”
“Your face!” Percy shrieks.
“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”
“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”
Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”
“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”
Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”
“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”
“Hey, I earned that.”
Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.
“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.
Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”
#god writing percy was so so so fun i am going to do it again i forgot how much i love percabeth#and nico and will are so EMBARRASSING#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#percy jackson#annabeth chase#percy jackson/annabeth chase#percabeth#nico di angelo#will solace#nico di angelo/will solace#solangelo#percy/annabeth#annabeth/percy#nico/will#will/nico#established relationship#bad flirting#humour#my writing#longpost#fic#pining nico di angelo#pining will solace#mutual pining#establisbed percabeth#percy jackson & will solace
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