#[ awkward summoner ensues ]

[emblabarrocks]

❛ what do you want from me? ❜ - Lon'qu @ Fiske <3

Fiske panicked as she had approached Lon'qu for a reason, but her words completely missed her as he asked her such a simple question. Now she really was going to look like a fool telling him she didn't remember what she went up to him for. She sighed inwardly as she figured making up some excuse might be for the best until she remembered what it was she needed.

"Uh, I just wanted to check up on how you're doing! That's all. I always want to make sure the heroes I summon are okay. I know I don't necessarily make an appearance often, but er... it's important for morale that I do occasionally!" The emblian summoner realized she accidentally rambled, making anything she said a little awkward. How approachable. She was convinced this is why she needed to work on her social skills a little more, that was the most embarrassing thing she could have done! Fiske could only hope that Lon'qu would say something to make the situation just a little better. If he left... she wouldn't blame him.

[dadsbongos]

a king, his advisor, and the betrothed

@toxycodone the fic is here fren

11 K words / warnings - reader has vag n wears a dress once, threesome WOAH, p in v + p in a sex, oral (m receiving), kabru is a fan of inappropriate workplace relationships

summary - Laios cannot find a suitor on his own, so Kabru is forced to summon an old... friend... for help.

~~~

“Just… someone you would like, then.”

“Someone I would like?”

“Yeah! If you like them, they must be good, right?”

“This isn’t about… ugh, fine.”

Kabru already knew exactly who to set up with Laios, but he wanted to grant himself a few more hours of delusion by drafting a list of desired traits.

.

.

.

A queen should be: diligent and humble, wise and patient. Honest.

Ideally, a short-lived king should marry from another short-lived race. Any children will therefore be short-lived as well, which Kabru considers highly preferable. Another tallman is his best option to keep infertility sparse.

Laios’ personality will need to be accounted for as well (Kabru finds that the longer he dawdles, the more fun he has hypothesizing Laios’ perfect match).

Laios, specifically, needs someone blunt and unencumbered by conformity -- the man seems to thrive when others feel comfortable speaking frankly with him. Someone from another royal court will not do, and especially not someone descended from direct nobel blood. Furthermore, Laios is clueless as to what his own title ensues, so he does little more for his countrymen than make appearances or pass budgets and bills. So for Kabru’s own sanity, someone intelligent and inclined to make Laios do his actual job is also preferred.

They must balance indulgence and sobriety for the man’s antics, as well as willingness to sit through Laios’ obscure personality.

Wait…

“No,” Kabru scratches that last half of his sentence, ink bleeding across the page, “What kind of matchmaker settles?”

They must like Laios, and Laios must like them. Laios is not a man Kabru can envision enduring loveless marriage, it’d be too awkward and the dolt would have it annulled.

Someone not petrified by monsters and intrigued by Laios’ strange personality, but also not so deranged as to be exactly like Laios.

Again, a single name comes to Kabru’s mind, but this time he does not put it off. He’s had his fun scheming, now he must draft a letter to the Northern Continent. To a village chief’s firstborn -- acquainted well enough with basic politics while also sharing a similar upbringing with Laios.

You’re perfect.

You’re also…

“An ex-party member?” Laios’ eyes skim over the contents of Kabru’s summoning letter, addressed at the top to you, “Cool.”

“Yeah, an ex-party member,” Kabru sighs to himself, imagining Rin beating him over the head with her staff right about now, “I think you should know, I briefly- ”

“Kabru,” Laios shakes his head, grinning, “I don’t care. If you trust them, I do.”

Briefly -- sure -- if an entire year and some months was brief. Kabru sighs louder and decides to let Laios find out on his own, since the king is so determined to look cool and easygoing.

In any case, you’ll be fond of Laios, Kabru’s certain.

Certain, and also dreading.

Year 512

“Where’d you find the space case anyway?”

“You sound upset.”

“Look!” Rin flings a gloved arm straight out, gesturing heatedly towards where the party’s newest member is staring straight at the first floor’s cracked ceiling.

Both hands squeezing the straps of your pack, you leave your throat completely exposed in order to gaze at a dark, faraway roof. The ease with which Kabru could slit your tender neck is comical, he finds it more concerning than charming. Any hoodlum or hooligan could rob and beat you blind and you’d be incapable of a proper defense.

“Let me handle it,” Kabru hopes to placate Rin with a soft grin, its success is limited because Rin’s known him long enough to push through his gushy exterior. She puts up no fight, thankfully, and let him approach you alone, “Hey!”

“Shh!” you hiss cutting your fingers along your jaw to silence him. His shock and horror at your rudeness must be visible because you wave that same hand around and smile, “Sorry. It’s just…”

Pointing up, your stare returns to the ceiling. Eyes wide and lips curled with glee. Kabru heeds and grimaces: glistening slimes the shade of clovers goop between gaping slashes in the ceiling. Pulsating and shivering as one beating organ, Kabru can’t think up a more disgusting sight.

“Slimes are sensitive to the heat we exhale, so the louder you are the easier they can find you.”

Blinking at you as inconspicuous as possible, Kabru asks, “Why stand right under them then?”

“They’re so weird. They don’t look intelligent, but they move around easily and developed such a scary way to trap prey. Pretty neat.”

Kabru has half a mind to cut you out of the party just for saying that, until you tack on a,

“Still super gross, though. We should move before they notice us.”

Kabru nods, watching you cross towards the rest of the party before following with a silent prayer that you’re not actually a monster fanatic.

His prayers are answered on the second floor -- your party is down, Holm and Daya crumpled over on opposite sides of the tree den. Kuro is strewn over a shaking, teary Mickbell with a bloody gash in his back. Rin has a similar slash, only deep in her gut and Kabru can tell she’s bleeding out fast.

While he prides himself on his wit and light thinking, Kabru is horrified by the sight of his party in agony. Planning so far ahead of himself he’s trying to scheme how to charm a passing healer into aiding Rin or reviving Holm, meanwhile he can’t even be certain he’s going to survive this attack. His own life is on the back on his mind, body stiff in preparation to swing his sword and cut off the chicken head of a charging Basilisk.

But how should he cut? It has to have a carotid artery, or a heart, but where? What if his strike is at a wrong angle and the snake side gobbles you all up.

Suddenly, the glint of your sword blinds him -- you snip the snake in half, exploiting the monster’s following stagger to round its body and stab through the Basilisk’s head. Tearing outward and splattering Kabru in blood as the beast drops.

He looks to you in silence, knees sore and wobbly and hands a shaking wreck.

Simply, you say, “The snake head is the real head, so if you attack that end first the chicken tail is distracted and easy to sneak up on,” then, you notice his trembling, “Oh, sorry…”

As if waiting for permission, Kabru’s body gives out once your hands find his shoulders. You smooth a palm over his back while shredding the loose material of your blouse to mop up the mess. Gently soaking Basilisk blood from his face with a frown marring your face, continuously murmuring apologies.

Kabru takes your wrist in his hand, blinking back his shock to sigh, “Thank you.”

Suspecting there’s more words jumbled on his tongue, you patiently wait that way: knelt beside Kabru as he squeezes your wrist.

“I think we should go back to the surface.”

You nod quickly. Much quicker than he’d assume you would given how directly you dealt with the terrifying Basilisk, “Do you want me to head back and get corpse retrievers? I doubt we could carry everyone up by ourselves.”

He takes note of how you specifically exclude Mickbell, presumably due to the young man’s hysterics.

The sharp tang of raw iron is filling Kabru’s nose, he chokes on it. He can’t stand to smell it a second more.

“No,” but inhaling through his mouth makes him taste it, rotting each bud on his tongue, “No. I’m the party leader, I should get them.”

Your eyes are lidding, no shock or awe found in the twinkle of your iris -- you were expecting this response.

“Sure, Kabru, I’ll wait with Mickbell.”

You don’t call him out on it, though.

Once the party has been revived and Kabru’s thrown the men their coins, you suggest the crew return a floor above.

“I’m sure nobody wants to eat where they died, so let’s have lunch up there and save instead of visiting a stall,” you gasp quietly and cover your mouth, then deferring to Kabru, “If that sounds good to you? Sorry… I shouldn’t have spoken so boldly like that…”

“No, you’re right,” even though he’s not looking to confirm, Kabru can feel Rin burning holes into his skull with her glare, “I think that’s a good idea.”

Secretly he’s glad no outsiders heard you make that call -- he isn’t ashamed to be bossed around by someone in a blouse, but he’s also not unrealistic. Others seeing that could threaten his meager status among the adventuring community. He’d be the wimp pushed around by his own members.

Interrupting his spiral, again, is you, “Okay, let’s get going then!” you clamp another hand over your mouth, “Right, Kabru?”

“Right.”

Thankfully, it is just your party who only finds your zealousness comedic rather than an opportunity for mutiny.

Returning visit to the first floor proves you about as useful as the initial one did.

Holm and Daya are unpacking rations with Mickbell and Kuro straggling at the edge of the blondes’ conversation. Rin is fetching water. Kabru is watching you; and he knows he should be either helping Rin, or lecturing you to help Rin, but he keeps watching.

He cannot hear you, but he knows you’re speaking -- crouched to make eye contact with a pair of slight humans. Round cheeks and marblesque eyes tell Kabru they’re just scratching at maturity. Not even thirteen.

The shorter one, a boy with freckles, picks at tender plumes of skin around his nails, knees shaking. He finds no voice, but the girl beside him does. She squeezes the shirt over her heart and her brows furrowed with passion, he can barely make out the words: mage, fourth, corpse retrievers.

One of your hands is perched on your bent knees while the other grazes along the forsaken graveyard, your head tilts and if he really forces his ears then Kabru can hear you ask, “How did you get separated?”

The girl’s shoulders go lax, lip twitching down as she sputters a reply. The boy’s picking grows frantic, his head shaking and voice shivery (this time Kabru can pick up: without her, no chance).

Kabru’s gaze hones on you, dissecting each twinge in your face as you process the information. Daya and Holm’s voices become vague, like buzzing insects, even Rin’s agitated staring from the fountain is pushed out of focus. How will you react to these children?

It's a horrible story, he’s sure. He’s so sure it’s a truly heartbreaking tale about two little ones separated from their ward on a lower level due to a snap decision from fear. However, it could also be just that: a story.

Criminals banned from The Island’s coasts often seek refuge in the bowels of the dungeon. Kabru feels confident that as this dungeon continues to fester unconquered: criminals are beginning to raise their children here.

If you blindly follow them down, you’re a fool. If you hand over all your party’s gold, you’re a fool. If you do nothing, you’re heartless. Heartlessness can be worse than foolishness, at least fools have good intentions.

Fingers wrap around the stem of a limping flower and pull, cutting it clean from the floor and holding the plant for both children. You push your hand closer to the kids, waiting until the girl grasps the flower before speaking again,

Something long winded, and judging by the shudders racketing down the boy’s frail body something rather dismal too. Yet you’re beaming up at the children, then they’re smiling as well. Rising to your feet, you brush moss stains from your knees and wave the children off with a promise Kabru can actually hear,

“If my party finds any retrievers, we’ll send them down.”

With eager nods, the kids sniffle and affirm their bravery to you -- the girl cradling the plucked daisy to her chest. You return to your party’s camp and boldly declare,

“I think we should try reaching the fourth floor soon.”

Rin bonks you with an elbow to the side, “Where’s this enthusiasm when I needed help carrying the water?”

Rubbing the tenderized area, you laugh and accept her frustration, “Sorry. Got caught up.”

“Obviously,” Rin sighs, falling to her knees around the party’s temporary camp.

Kabru sits as well, still observing as you apologize to Rin again though your eyes trailing the kids as they heft food packs onto their shoulders and begin their trek.

Mickbell settles into Kuro’s lap, Daya has begun digging into her plate while Holm ensures everyone has a filling portion. Rin agrees to dissolve the tension, meaning you two can begin gaffing amongst yourselves. As if you never left, the party is normal.

Despite your itch to reach the fourth floor as soon as possible, you don’t mention the interaction whatsoever.

Overall, Kabru considers your first dive with the party a cohesion success.

Year 515

“Don’t speak over or interrupt. Got it?”

“Okay.”

“At all.”

“Alright.”

“I’m serious,” Kabru’s eyes widen a smidge, as if to force how pertinent it is that Laios absorbs this lesson, “I’m still upset about the meeting last week.”

“I didn’t know he wasn’t done talking,” Laios frowns, shrugging in an obnoxiously coy play, the worst part being that Kabru knows Laios does it in earnest. His stupid kicked-puppy stare is entirely genuine, “That guy takes long breaths, it’s hard to tell when he’s done.”

“Well try harder to tell now,” a wave of guilt hits Kabru in the chest, heart squeezing at the sight of Laios’ frown deepening, “I don’t mean to upset you. I just… I want this to go well.”

“I do, too, you know?”

Kabru finds that hard to believe, but Laios isn’t lying to him right now. He’d know otherwise. Whether Laios can make a positive impression will have to be seen, but the man clearly has no intentions of sabotaging himself.

For all his lackluster socio-political ambitions, Laios is still a good king: insightful to the experience of commonmen and quick to new ways of strengthening their country. He has yet to give citizens, or Kabru, valid reason to question his ability to rule.

“I’m sure,” Kabru turns in his desk chair, bracing his forehead with his palm, “Let’s get this finished then.”

“But- “ Laios hesitates when he’s shot an icy glare from Kabru, “But I’m so hungry…”

As if to punctuate his torment, Laios’ stomach grumbles. Loudly. Echoing through the informal setting of Kabru’s personal quarters.

“My poor royal majesty,” Kabru coos, inked with sarcasm, “Will you survive till lunch?”

Laios’ eyes go thin, arms folding, “Don’t demean me.”

“It’s one meal. You’ll hardly die. The faster we finish this paperwork, the quicker we can usher you to breakfast.”

“I want to go now,” Laios, with no sense of self, lays his lips into the crook of his advisor’s neck. Soft, plump flesh scorching Kabru’s pulse, then a cold flash of bone: teeth, “I’m starving.”

Bladepoint canines puncture Kabru’s skin, shock blinding him to the scathing scratch till after Laios has already pulled away. Saliva stringing them together before Laios snaps it, sloppily swiping the wrist of his sleeve across his mouth.

“Disgusting,” Kabru starkly avoids eye contact by glaring at the sheen of spit on his shoulder, cupping the inflamed flesh, “Go change your shirt now, it’s not a handkerchief.”

He doesn’t remember when he first felt comfortable being so venomous around Laios, only that it's easier than trying to be pleasant all the time.

“After I eat?” Laios prompts.

“After you eat,” Kabru massages his tensing temples, working away the headache as it builds.

Upon Laios’ exit, Kabru traces the shallow indents with his fingertips -- lashes fluttering against his cheeks at the resulting faint sting. Now he’ll be forced to find a new shirt of his own, one that hides his bruising mark.

Year 513

“As long as we don’t piss off any living armor, we should be able to get to the fourth floor, at least,” you nod to yourself, hands steady and body firm as you hold up your homemade map of the area.

Raucous groans follow your cheery assessment, and a cursory glance back shows your party in disarray: Rin and Holm have heavy, discolored bags beneath their eyes. Daya is leaning against her axe with quaking arms while Mickbell coils around Kero’s shoulders. Even Kabru can admit he looks worse for wear, or assumes he does because he certainly feels at his worst.

“Oh, unless you all want to head back?” you roll the map up and wave a hand dismissively, almost seeming ashamed of the previous suggestion. Cautious to maintain a soothing and even tone, clearly doing your best to prevent any of them from feeling coddled or mocked.

Not that he truly wants to, but Kabru agrees, “Probably for the best. We’re running low on food, so we should save what we have for the journey back.”

“Makes sense,” you don’t appear disappointed or discouraged, “There’s always next time.”

“Enough optimism,” Mickbell whines, “It’s making me all nauseous.”

“Be nice,” Rin chastises, then looking at you forlorn, “You could probably carry on without us.”

Her dejected lilt prevents any accusations of wanting you to go it alone.

“No way, I’d go crazy by myself!”

Kabru reads that instantly as a lie -- if your scrunching brows and fidgeting hands weren’t telling enough then perhaps you don’t remember confessing to him your days as a solo adventurer.

You could easily carry on without the rest of the party. Hell, you could even join a better, stronger party -- the Toudens, maybe. They’d chomp at your skills if they cared even a little about their fellow men. Kabru bets you would even be able to form a party of your own with ease.

“We’re strongest when everyone’s at their best, after all,” you reassure, turning your back on the dream to hit fourth floor this crawl in favor of aiding your party’s exhaustion, “As long as we can go that deep eventually, I’ll die happily.”

Kabru doesn’t bring up how rapidly approaching the date for you to sail back home is, he gets the sense you wouldn’t want him to.

“Well don’t go keeling on us as soon as we do,” Rin’s scowl loosens, only slightly, when you smile in return and loop an arm through hers.

“Of course, not, Rin. Who else would terrorize you if I died?”

Quickly, the mage’s dark eyes flick to Kabru before returning to you, “I have an idea.”

“Oh, duh.”

Her gaze lingers on the way you’re staring at Kabru and how Kabru stares back. She must read his fondness because her forehead wrinkles up and she tugs you forward, “Yeah, duh.”

Year 515

Kabru’s foot taps impatiently, knowing it’d be improper were he to rush over and help you down from the carriage himself. But forgive the man, he’s in a hurry to have you at his side again.

He wonders if you wear the same perfume.

He wonders if you’ll take to Laios immediately, or will it take the entire two weeks before your wedding ceremony for you to warm to him?

Most of all, he wonders if he can compose himself during the entire courting process.

“Hey!”

Kabru’s mind snaps back into the present at your call, you’re charging over with an ecstatic wave. He waves back, calmer and centered towards his chest.

“It’s great to see you again!” you effortlessly knock the polite handshake Kabru extends aside to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “Imagine my surprise, the first time you send a letter is to try and marry me to a king!”

“I never found the time to write back when things finally got interesting,” Kabru bluffs, returning your hug. Warmth spreads between the both of you, if he focuses hard enough he can make out the dull thud of your heart, “Hopefully this makes up for it.”

“Definitely,” you pull back, rolling your eyes, “Father made my brother village chief while I was on The Island, so there wasn’t anything left for me to do there.”

“Perfect time to get one up on your brother. Even just marrying into royalty is better than village chief.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Let’s meet Laios Touden first. I remember he was kind of a weird guy, no?”

“He still is,” Kabru shrugs, turning to guide you into the main hall as men lug your bags towards the castle’s south wing, “He’s nice, at least. Wants to make living easier,” he glances back at you over his shoulder, “Handsome, too. You must remember what he looks like.”

“I remember he was big.”

“Strong, yeah,” Kabru slows to match paces with you through the rolling corridors, “Nice jawline, pretty eyes, and the slope of his nose isn’t terrible. He’s kind of an outstanding specimen, physically I mean.”

“Oh…” you press a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at his rambling, “So his looks do the heavy lifting?”

“Just something to keep in mind,” he pauses outside a set of tall double doors, one hand braced against the hanging, solid black handle, and the other drawing circles into his temple, “His unique personality hasn’t faded with becoming king.”

“How interesting.”

“That’s a word for it.”

Laios is slumped comfortably back into his throne, sunlight complimenting his bored expression before he notices the pair pushing through his grandeur. Immediately, his eyes sink into you, scrawling from the top of your head to your feet in blatant observation. Staunchly, his gaze remains respectful to your modesty, indicating he’s purely sizing you up; perhaps confirming whether or not he could take you in a fight. Or to use you as a meager replacement for his monsters, studying your anatomy and mentally attaching tails and horns and heads where he sees fit.

“King Laios,” you politely remain behind Kabru. Your own gaze lurches over the king’s body as well, much less clinical than his examination -- you already know you could take him in a fight. What you want to imagine now, is if he’s the outstanding specimen that Kabru claimed, “So nice to see the Golden Kingdom for myself.”

“Prettier than the North,” Laios, much to Kabru’s unspoken irritation, scratches the back of his head without grace, “You’re from there too, right? How has it been? I haven’t been in awhile.”

“Oh, you know,” none of the men from your village look like Laios, despite their hard labor they aren’t built like him. Big. Beefy. Chewable also comes to mind; you could chew him up and be full of protein. From the little pouch of his stomach you surmise he isn’t cut or excessively defined, which drives you mad, “Same as usual. Cold and quiet.”

“Mhm. How about the monsters up top? I don’t think anybody from my village was willing to slay them,” he folds his arms, legs spreading as he readjusts for comfort, head ticking curiously, “I’ve been thinking lately that they could be overrun by monsters if nobody fights them off.”

Kabru’s irritation grows, having to claw at his thighs to restrain from choking the man. He may be older and bigger and more powerful than Kabru is, but Laios is the most painfully oblivious man in the world. He just has to be. He’s so focused on not attacking his king that Kabru almost misses how eyes scald his side at the mention of monsters overtaking the North.

“I haven’t noticed anything unusual,” and you mean that, the North truly is as boring as it was when you were growing up, “Maybe more acceptance for magic, but that’s mostly to combat the increase in ghosts.”

“Increase in ghosts,” Laios’ eyes bulge, posture straightening out in vivid excitement, “Do they know why there’s so many? Do they just wander around, or do they remain in cemeteries?”

“Ah, King Laios,” you try to hide the way your eyes bounce repeatedly towards Kabru’s rigid frame. His hands are balled, even shaking, and his stare is aimed over the king’s right shoulder, “Perhaps we could get some privacy before discussing such things?” you boldly step forward, correctly assuming Laios would take no offense at the intrusion, “We should get to know each other on our own.”

“Oh, right!” Laios waves a dismissal towards Kabru, apologizing for holding the man so long.

You don’t ask Kabru if he’s okay before he leaves, but you take one of his hands and squeeze it gingerly. Smiling tenderly and bidding him well. A soft halo of gold ringing around your head from sunlight pouring through glass panes.

“Don’t let- ” just as he’s apologizing for his king, you silence Kabru.

“I’ll form my own opinion,” you release his hand, still grinning, “You trust me, don’t you?” he nods, of course he does, “So trust me to gather my own thoughts, okay?”

Oh, God that cannot be a good sign.

Please, please, please -- he’s contemplating getting on his knees to pray outside the doors -- please don’t let his reaction to Laios’ monster obsession make you hate the king. You’re his only choice, the only one that will do!

You’re kind and strong willed and beautiful and he’d love to have you living under the same roof as himself.

Not that that has anything to do with his decision. No, no, that would be idiotic.

That would be the worst plan he’s ever planned in his entire life. So, he’s glad it's separate from his real motivation.

At least, he’s glad until that night. Alone in his bed with only moonlight shining along his pristine sheets.

For hours Kabru has been cooped in his room, and technically he’s been cooped in his mind even longer. Since the second a passing pair of guards relieved him from lingering outside the throne room, Kabru blindly stumbled through his messy thoughts.

Worse now than ever before is the desperation to know. Clawing him apart from the inside out. He needs to know.

To know what you’re feeling. To know what’s being said. To know why you two never came out, even hours after Kabru left. In explicit detail, he must know. What you like about Laios, what you don’t, what you find attractive, if you got hot in the face when you saw him, if you ever felt that way about Kabru, if you think Kabru’s attractive, if you accepted his invitation just because Kabru sent it or because you truly wanted to meet Laios.

He can’t just ask, so now he must meticulously set up a series of precision events to fish the information out.

Because your hesitance to emphatically accept the proposal confuses Kabru. You’ve never been particularly picky about partners, but you’re not the type for manufacturing attraction to spare a person’s feelings. So theory one is that Laios is not physically appealing to you.

Though not even that explanation makes sense. To be short, Kabru doesn’t understand how you couldn’t be attracted to Laios. Such strong, determined features demanded attention; and trust, the attention would be positive.

Broad shoulders and meaty thighs, Laios’ build is admirable on its own: Kabru could sink his teeth into Laios’ bicep and never cut bone. Aside from that is the healthy fluff of blonde hair his king keeps trimmed, as well as his face. Remaining clean shaven gives an air of proper hygiene and self-sufficiency that makes Laios seem more attractive.

Kabru cannot fathom how you’re not preparing vows yet.

That thought makes him shoot up in bed, eyes wide and a hand curled into his churning gut.

Why can’t Kabru fathom how you’re not preparing vows? Why does he find it so peculiar?

That type of questioning, this obsession -- it implies Kabru wants to prepare vows, doesn’t it?

With ragged grumbling Kabru collapses back into his mattress, letting his fried brain melt through his ears as he finally attempts giving in to sleep.

…

He wakes to a nightmare the next morning -- you and Laios are alone in the great hall, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the end closest to the kitchen. Chairs pushed so close the armrests are peeling against each other, elbows knocking as Laios forgoes all table etiquette. Not once do you scold or demean him. Instead seeming too engrossed at the ear-nibbling of shapeshifter trivia Laios is laying down.

“Did you ever run into one?” Laios asks, eyes a little too glittery for someone who must’ve woken quite early for this private breakfast, “My dad had our dogs follow herds so we could spot them in the flock.”

“Dogs can tell which sheep are fakes?”

“Oh, yeah! Dogs can tell by the smell,” Laios taps his nose, “I wonder what the difference is, don’t you? Do they smell more sweet, like dirt? Or do they have no smell at all since their illusions?”

“Maybe a Kobold would be able to tell you? Their anatomy is dog-like, after all.”

“I thought so, too! But there’s not many Kobolds native to the North.”

“Well, hopefully you can find out one day,” then you bite for more monster facts, “I did always wonder what my own shapeshifter could look like. Don’t they read people’s minds to make their copies?”

Laios’ silverware clatters away, tinking loudly on the glass plate, hands flexing hysterically, heart jumping to his tongue, “They do, they take other people’s interpretations of you to confuse your company into keeping it around.”

“How thrilling,” you muse.

“It’s a shame I’ll never get to see or make another one,” he lifts his fork, pushing meat and eggs around his plate glumly, “Would’ve been fun to see what you look like in my memory compared to the real thing.”

“You can tell me now,” your palm bares his shoulder, leaning over your chair and towards his own. Laios’ honey eyes dip, tracing the shape of your lips which makes you lean even closer, “How is it that you see me, Laios? Would I be flattered?”

“I hope so,” he blurts.

Kabru backs away, rattling door hinges before slumping back into the corridor. Rotten thoughts of how lovely you are corroding his brain. You’re so lovely to nip at your betrothed’s interest wholeheartedly, no matter how unconventional.

You’re so lovely it's all consuming.

You’re so lovely he can’t remember when or why, exactly, he fell in love with you.

You’re so lovely he thinks he might have just always been your emotional pin cushion.

There remains to be a single thing Kabru could name that made him fall in love with you.

Kindness is much too bland of a trait. And you wanted the wellbeing of others, but that’s something Kabru expects from people. You are pretty, but that’s no reason to daydream about buying a house together. Perhaps it was a combination of all three that mixed lethally well with how much time you spent together.

That, with how detrimental party romances are to group fallouts, maybe made you more desirable? Could that be it?

You were a new, fascinating person he couldn’t pick apart as soon as he gazed upon you, and you knew exactly how to swerve his expectations. You loved listening to him mutter about the interlocked nature of humans: one man cheating on his wife in Kahka Brud undoing a port in Melini. But you stepped away from interpersonal Island gossip. You could rattle out seven variations of man-eating plants but couldn’t stand to even look upon the vegetation without grimacing.

Approachable with a thin smile and batting lashes, beautiful and quiet. Very quiet. You hardly ask anything of others. It should make you seem ominous or menacing, but no part of him feels endangered by you.

Kabru always felt so comfortable around you that, despite knowing his other party members longer, he found you the easiest to converse with. Before he could realize himself, you’d crawled over so many emotional walls without letting him bypass a single one of your own.

You’re his worst nightmare, he craves you more than oxygen.

Year 513

The tavern door opens with an outrageous squeal. If the mood were different, then you would probably make a humorous remark about the aged hinges. But the mood isn’t different. Things are tense and he just wants to go home now.

Even twinkling stars blink away to avoid giving his humiliation anymore attention. Moonlight rudely oozes over you both, though, reminding him how much he prefers the sun. The moon always seems to follow him when he’s whirled in his worst turmoil.

You step into the tavern first, holding the cranky door open for him. He’d thank you like the upstanding young man his mother raised… if only the mood were different.

Silently, Kabru trails behind you, cheeks blistering hot and palms moist, with his head bent. You two make it back to the table circled by your party, sans Daya due to a more pressing engagement with her fiance. Rin’s perma-scowl cracks briefly into blatant shock at his slouch before schooling herself into re-wrinkling her face. Confusion curling into the folds of her glabella.

“What happened?”

Per usual, you answer for Kabru, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” anger seems to flash briefly over her for a moment, a spasm so minute only Kabru can spot it, “Really?”

He’s not surprised she’s upset about him, shamefully, trying to woo you during a night out with the party. What surprises him is that her anger is solely directed at you.

At least until you nod firmly, “Nothing happened, Rin.”

Then pity laxes her irritation, she spares Kabru a flicker of eye contact before mumbling an ‘okay’. She ends up remaining largely silent for the rest of the night, only extending responses when directly prompted.

What else surprises him is the ease with which you lie. Something happened, just not how he wanted it to play out.

Maybe he didn’t notice because of his drowned mood, but Kabru swears you didn’t exhibit any of your usual tells when you spoke.

(the fact he harps on your physical tells will make him so mad he cries later tonight)

Year 515

“He’s going to burn their ear off, I’m telling you…” Marcille grumbles.

“I think it's cute,” Falin grins.

“Of course, you do,” Marcille sighs, though smiling fondly at the girl while scritching around her plumage. Falin chirps happily and nuzzles into Marcille’s shoulder, “He’s your brother, you never think he’s as weird as he is.”

Kabru speaks boldly, which he knows is unlike himself but he’s so eager to show that he knows you more than them that he cannot stop himself, “They can bond over the monster talk, at least.”

“Are they even into monsters?”

“Kind of?” he backtracks, realizing that he isn’t sure how to answer her question, “They hate monsters, but they know a lot.”

“Good on you for finding someone like that, then,” Marcille shrugs, “They might actually have a good marriage.”

Kabru tenses, even though he shouldn’t (because he knows why you’re here, so he can’t exactly get depressed when other people bring it up), “Yeah. They will.”

“For a while, I thought you’d marry my brother,” Falin says suddenly. Eyes sharp on Kabru’s figure.

Marcille guffaws, “Why would you say that?”

She shrugs before letting her eyes relax to their usual serene state, “They get along well. And Laios likes him. Laios doesn’t usually like people.”

“I guess you have a point,” Marcille waves a figurative flag before gesturing to the room around them, “But we’re not planning their wedding.”

“Yeah…” Falin sighs like she’s the one most disappointed.

Kabru says nothing, only returning to the list of ale and wine suppliers eager to vend for the upcoming royal wedding. His eyes skim names he’s heard various reviews for, but his brain takes none of them in. Rather, he’s fixated on what Falin said.

She could see it?

Could they have gotten married?

If Kabru forgot you completely, or even better never met you, could it be him stepping up to the altar? Would Laios have him?

Laios doesn’t usually like people. but in crowded meetings, it's solely Kabru that Laios searches for. And it’s the sight of Kabru that makes Laios sigh in relief. And it’s the sound of Kabru’s voice that Laios waits for before delivering a response.

At dinner, back when they ate together before you monopolized mealtimes, Laios always ensured Kabru had twice his fill before calling it a night.

(“Even though we’re not fighting in a dungeon anymore, I still think you should retain your strength.”

“You sound like you just like watching me eat.”

“Maybe that, too. You have a nice mouth.”

Kabru never responded to that, too petrified over the implications. Now he thinks he probably should have, maybe it would have meant he’d be marrying a king.)

Falin was right in that Laios doesn’t take to people easily, and he’s sure that’s all she meant. But Kabru knows that her statement is a criminal oversimplification of Laios.

Laios likes people so much he’s gone on potentially endless, potentially fruitless, endeavors for them. Laios likes people so much he makes them harpy eggs because they seem minorly interested in monster cuisine. Laios likes people so much he makes sure they’re treated with the utmost dignity. Laios loves people, and suddenly the thought of you becoming one of those select people is getting harder to grieve.

Laios’ love is not limited, but now Kabru’s forced to come to terms with the fact that Laios’ romantic love for him is--

“So, did you pick yet?” Marcille and Falin are swatching fabrics from the cushy loveseat of the main library, “I’ve heard of a roach outbreak in Smisson’s breweries, so I hope you didn’t get attached.”

Kabru jolts upright and shakes his head, saying the first dumb thing he can think of, “I heard of that, too.”

Falin giggles, “He’s the one that told you about it, Marcille.”

“Huh? You’re kidding!” a furious blush overtakes the elf, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how I forgot that!”

Kabru shakes his head again, swallowing roughly, “It’s fine.”

Really, it’s all fine.

Year 513

“Everyone wanted to be here,” Kabru chuckles quietly, as if raising his voice could somehow wake the entire Island.

“I’m sure,” there’s no hint of sarcasm in your voice, “They were with me late last night, so… I didn’t really expect anyone to see me off,” you giggle softly, a hollow sound he doesn’t take very kindly, “I’m surprised you made it.”

“It’s the least I could do after everything you gave the party,” with no decorum he scratches the back of his neck, and avoids looking you in the face, “It’ll be harder in the dungeon without you.”

“I believe in you.”

His breath hitches. He looks at you. A barely-there smile and tired eyes. It may be the most honest he’s seen you. He’s tempted to ask how you meant that ‘you’, but doesn’t.

He doesn’t even speak until you’re boarded -- until he’s forced to raise his voice so you can hear him over a bustling crew and fellow passengers.

“If I send letters, will you read them?” Kabru silences you before you can open your mouth, “Will you respond?”

Then, you’re smiling wider, and your eyes are tight with joy. It isn’t the usual siren cant of droopy lids, it’s pure elation. You’re laughing at his question, shoulders bouncing gleefully. You’re nodding. You speak between chortles, as if he asked you what color the sky was.

“Of course, I will!”

You look more beautiful than he’s ever seen you before.

“Okay, I’ll write you, then.”

“You better!”

Your ship rocks as it sets off from the dock, but you don’t disappear beneath the ridge. In fact, you almost hang over it, torso flattening against wood and nails digging for purchase as you wave.

Kabru waves back. He runs down the dock like a fool, barely catching himself from tumbling into the lapping ocean.

“Bye, Kabru!” you’re still smiling, bathed in soft orange and soothing yellow -- your voice grows distant over crashing waves, “I’ll miss you!”

He keeps waving. He waves and he waves and he doesn’t stop until your ship is behind the horizon. Only then does his hand fall to his side, eyes sopping wet and chest squeezing.

He feels pathetic.

He misses you already.

Year 515

Days prior this morning, the grand hall was cleared out -- pews replaced the needlessly long cherry oak dining table. Flowers plotted in tall carved vases with white lace and silk choking the necks, a velvet track from the altar through open doors to the courtyard. People from across the continents were invented, diplomats to friendly nobles to acquaintances Laios does not remember to true friends to your father and brother and Falin.

(“You don’t want to invite your parents?” Kabru re-evaluates his list of guests, “Seems uncouth, no?”

“What do I care?” Laios’ legs are splayed, thighs pressing against either side of the gold throne, “A wedding is meant to be happy, why would I need people I don’t like there?” he knocks a fist back into Kabru’s chest, letting his knuckles linger over the man’s heart only as long as he can say, “I have you, and my betrothed, and my friends. Really, that’s all I need.”

“It’d be rude to- ”

“I get it,” Laios’ hand falls back onto his armrest, fingertips skimming the rounded metal edge, “This is why I’m leaving it to you, I trust you.”)

Out of all the tedious preparation, dressing Laios was the most tragic in that the king hated everything the handmaids and servants stuffed him in. Countless hours were wasted before they begged Kabru to help, only then did the king settle:

No crown, terminally unsurprising, since Laios abhorred the weight and feel of it on his head. Rather, he would adorn himself with that dreadful Winged Lion’s pelt, and a vermillion cotehardie reaching mid-thigh with gold trim. Leather belt tethered around his waist gave the fabric shape whilst holding up loose britches. Daggered teeth of various beasts lined his neck, which Kabru was privy to each and every complaint over the sensory nightmare they provided. He’s sure as soon as Laios can, he’ll be tearing the necklace off.

Dressing himself, regardless of Laios’ multiple emphatic encouragements, was a similar exercise in disaster:

It felt massively inappropriate to wear something so shiny and attractive as gold on another man’s wedding night, even as Laios insisted Kabru wear whatever he pleased. Still, Kabru chose silver earrings and accents. Sparkling and flattering, yes, but nothing so bold. He did splurge with a sapphire blue kirtie that made his eyes shine brighter, and a simple chain of pearls. He felt attractive, and joyous.

Joyous for tonight. Joyous for a wedding! Yes, simply so ecstatic for tonight’s marriage.

Truthfully, Kabru is so overjoyed for his king, he really could just fucking die.

From joy. And happiness.

Because what makes it even better is how you look happy. Actually happy. No low gaze or siren simper, just pure, carefree merriment as you link hands with Laios. Reciting vows from a flushed, teary-eyed Marcille. Neither of you has that gleam or honeydew sparkle of pure love, but Kabru is good at his job: zero doubt swims in his mind that you two will be a pair truly enamored with each other.

His misery must be unfiltered in the back of the grand hall, far behind the rest of the wedding party, because Rin’s dark eyes are piercing through the side of his skull. She’s frowning up at him, arms folded.

She murmurs, “You should’ve said something.”

Kabru grins at her sardonically, “I should’ve broken up their engagement? You didn’t even like us interacting when they were in our party.”

“That’s- !” her cheeks stain red, an annoyed huff rattling her whole body, “They never told you why they rejected you, right?”

Kabru’s silence is answer enough. It’s also more unsettling to Rin than any dungeon monster she’d encountered.

“They knew that I wanted you,” Rin clears her throat, embarrassment trying to choke her into silence, but she overcomes it for the sake of her friend, “So, out of respect, you were refused and never told why.”

Kabru loves Rin, as a sister. He loves her so much he’d kill for her, because she’s like his sister. He loves her so so so much that he cannot even be mad at her, because part of him always considered her somewhat to blame for your rejection of him.

For an agonizing, silent few seconds, Kabru just stares down at her with those crystalline eyes. Blinking himself from his stupor, Kabru asks the dumbest question he could think of, “Did they want to say yes?”

Rin’s frown deepens, forehead wrinkling, “Is that something you really want to know?”

Laios is a terrible kisser, and out of respect you cover your mouths with a hand as he maps out your lips with eyes clenched. Kabru told him not to close his eyes too early, and naturally Laios did not listen. Thankfully you’re there, hiding Laios’ possible humiliation with one hand and guiding him with your other on his jaw.

“No,” Kabru sighs, “Not really.”

That’s the biggest lie he might’ve ever told Rin.

Still she pats his back sympathetically, even laying her head against his shoulder.

Celebration begins, food laid free for grabbing and wine flowing like water -- especially into Kabru’s gaping maw. It's sour on his tongue, but as far as he’s seen it's him alone that scrunches his face and shakes out his hair at the taste, which only has him feeling crazier.

.

.

.

“Isn’t this foul?” Kabru scoffs, slumped over one of the many strewn tables in the general ballroom, cramped posture making him seem smaller. Ordinarily this is embarrassing. Ordinarily he’s not drunk.

“I don’t notice anything,” Chilchuck swigs from the clear chalice in his hand.

Marcille takes a civilized sip for herself, unspoken concern that their friend’s taste in alcohol is not utmost dependable, “I don’t notice anything either.”

Kabru swirls his wine, staring into the dark spiral and wondering if a bug of some type sensed his grim mood and decided to drown itself and poison his cup.

“I’m going to get a new drink, then,” Kabru rises, bidding the pair well as he guns for the barrels of frothy ale.

People cheer and clack maizers, spilling various toxic cures onto the floor making his shoes stick with loud clicks. Something he doesn’t bother with knowing Laios will seek him out once the stains are discovered.

Laios, Laios, Laios: speaking of.

Kabru’s gaze floats across the party to find his king, who is staring off with hands fidgeting in the drape of his Winged Lion’s pelt as your father speaks. An unfortunate sight, one he’s itching to rectify when a lengthy gown flows into his vision.

Dashing and soft and yours.

Sage fabric glides along the floor, intricately sewn floral trim skittering along the ground. Flowers of lace and yarn decorate the bust and sleeves, even a crown of colorful buds blooms atop your head. Rings of gold link around your fingers. Hair swept away to unveil your face, coiled and braided with, unbelievably, more flowers dancing between the tresses. Faint lavender and tangerine lingers around you in a hypnotizing haze, culling lovestruck head-turns of men and women with your every step.

“Your husband’s alone with your father.”

“They’ll come out alive, or we’ll hear them killing each other,” you pull out a seat at the longest central table and gesture to the chair directly beside you, “Sit. We never got to properly catch up.”

Kabru sees you have wine. He suddenly craves the sour grape flavor (maybe all he was missing was the sensation of licking it off your lips). From what he remembers, Laios was holding wine as well. Kabru considers stretching out to steal a second taste.

Although, sugary enough is the sound of your voice, suddenly his fresh mug of ale is entirely forgotten.

“Kabru?”

You’re so pretty, Kabru could tear his eyes out now and not miss a single greater sight. Especially when you’re -again- bathed in the pouring gold sunlight through grand windows, tranquil beside him at the long table. As if there isn’t a single other spot you prefer, you sit right next to him with a chalice of the worst wine he’s ever had.

“Hey, Kabru…”

His hands shake with the need to hold you. Chest raging with his uncontrollable heartbeat. His head hurts with the knowledge that there really isn’t a place he prefers more than by you (even if he’s forced to drink alcohol so foul it's comparable to sewage).

“Kabru,” your touch startles him, pout and knitted brows capturing his whole attention, “You’re not even listening to me!” you laugh, shaking off his incompetence so easily it makes him want to thank you with a kiss, “Are you drunk?”

“Huh?” he lowers his head into his hands, “Yes,” he lies to you, “Yes, that must be it.”

“Poor thing, I thought you were better at holding your liquor.”

“Your memory is fading…”

“Oh, well, suppose me and the king will have to tuck you in. Make sure you get to bed safely without bumping into anything expensive.”

Kabru gags, pushing himself up from his seat and dashing towards the nearest bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach (wine, mead, beer, and beer’s good brother ale).

Tears sting his eyes, snot beginning to leak from his nose as he spits into the toilet bowl. You and the king. The king and you. You and Laios: married. Perfect union. And Kabru did it all to himself. He wanted so desperately to drink himself under the table to forget, and you just had to go reminding him.

You are the worst person he’s ever met, and so is Laios! Your commitment to respect is disgusting, and Laios’ trust in him is an absolute travesty. You two should just hurry up and keel over instead of shoving your romance in Kabru’s face; and if either of you ever thanks him for setting you up then he’ll gut you both that very instant.

Laios and you are terrible, awful, no good devils -- and he wants you both so bad he’s vomiting in the bathroom on your wedding night.

Maybe he can send you both off on a honeymoon? Yes, yes. And while you’re away, he’ll drown in responsibility by day and pretty faces by night. Upon your return, he’ll have forgotten he was ever smitten.

No, who is he kidding? That would be a pointless venture.

You’d be so giddy to tell Kabru allllll about your trip while Laios would show off trinkets he picked up with that charming smile, Kabru would fall right back here. Puking and crying. He should just resign totally. Rot away in bed and die so he never has to see either of you again.

How cowardly.

How unbecoming.

Kabru could kick himself.

Rin was in his position more or less (...less, though, definitely less) and still had the nerve to face him every day for years. She didn’t run away, and she didn’t make her party suffer because of her feelings -- so how could Kabru extend the kingdom’s wellbeing over his? Without him, Laios would socially drown with a village chief’s firstborn as a life preserver.

You’re smart and well-versed in reading others, but you’re not Kabru for God’s sake. You can’t apply half of what you know, not to mention you don’t even care to learn.

Wiping off his mouth and flushing the toilet, Kabru stumbles toward the doorway with a prayer in his pocket to find water soon.

Returning to the chipper scene, Kabru can instantaneously spot Laios flagging him down, with his spare hand curved into the base of your spine.

He dodges you both and retires to bed. Lightheaded and miserable, he’s asleep quickly.

Then, suddenly, he’s not.

.

.

.

He’s outside Laios’ room.

Did his feet carry him here subconsciously? How pathetic…

Kabru is fully prepared to turn back and amble to his room when there’s a sound from the other side of the door. A sharp gasp and whine, then your giggling, and Laios’ voice pleading for you to be nice to him. More murmuring, then a soft moan. A lofty sigh.

Song of a consummation.

Foolishly, Kabru hadn’t thought that your sex life was something he’d have to encounter directly. And despite knowing he should step away, if not out of honor then at least to preserve his own heart, Kabru’s curiosity bolts him to the floor.

He’s never seen Laios fuck.

He’s never seen you fuck, either.

He feels compelled to study -- how does your subdued front mesh with Laios’ eager hands? Which of you takes control? With his bigger size and more powerful title, one would assume Laios, but Kabru bets it's you. Will you make him wait? Would he dive between your thighs with fervor? How will the lip stain your ladies painted you with look slathered across Laios’ pale skin?

Despite knowing what it says about his character, Kabru stays. On some level to get it through to himself that you two are together and off-limits; and on a deeper, truer level because he’s sick in the head.

As was the plan anyway, until a booming, “Hey!” echoes from down the dim hall. A guardsman fast approaching from his patrol route. Kabru’s face is hidden by the dark, figure easily mistaken for a passing servant. But even if the guard could recognize him, would it matter?

What reason does the royal advisor have for lingering outside his king’s chambers so late into the night?

Lies fly through Kabru’s brain as the guard bristles closer, none of them plausible. Finally, the idea of killing this man cycles through his mind, and he reconciles with the fact that must be his only option to avoid an obscenity charge.

“Oh, you came!” a soft hand lands between Kabru’s shoulder blades, voice floating past him and to the guard now two feet away, “Thank you for your faithful service, but don’t concern yourself with him. Our king summoned him,” your laugh soothes Kabru’s tensed muscles, “I wasn’t sure he’d make it because of the hour.”

Kabru stares at you, not bothering to hide his confused, jaw-hanging stare as the guard retreats to his typical patrol.

A thin silk robe drapes over you, loosely tied at the waist and exposing much of your chest.

“I never took you for a pervert, Kabru,” such a mellow voice makes even your scalding accusation sound sweet. You whirr him around by the arm and lug him into yours and Laios’ newly shared room. All proprieties trapped outside but trepidation slithers through, lodging in his gullet.

Laios lays on the bed, exposed completely. Tousled sheets bunched between his hands and under his thighs. Cheeks flushed redder than the head of his cock, hard and slapped against his stomach. Wide spread thighs and heaving chest bountiful eye candy.

“How’d you know it was him?” Laios sounds devastatingly breathless, eyes low and ruby lips swollen.

“Hunch,” you answer plainly, petting down Kabru’s arm until your fingers lace with his.

Kabru murmurs your name, wide eyed. You knew?

Of course, you knew. How could he have thought anything else? Your calm nature about the whole ordeal solidifies that you must’ve known for a long while. Longer than him, even. When would you have figured it out?

“He’s beautiful,” you perch your chin on Kabru’s shoulder, cooing into his ear, “You were always so focused on his face, you’ve never gotten to see anything beneath his clothes, have you?”

Oh, right. The very first day you got here, obviously.

Laios rolls his head from one shoulder to the other, brows pinching in frustration, heated gaze straying from Kabru to you, “He’s going to touch me, right?”

“Depends,” your hands skim up Kabru’s spine, nudging him forward, “Kabru, do you want to touch your king?” one arm glides around his front, fingers toying with the band of his trousers, “And myself?”

“Uhhh…” can he be honest with himself? Can he lay himself bare before not one, but two people? Two people he’s interested in above all else. Heat laps from the barrel of his chest, scorching from cheeks to ears to forehead as sweat beads along his hairline and the back of his neck.

“I asked a question. I need a response.”

Laios’ cock twitches against his abdomen, throat croaking around desire.

“Yes,” Kabru exhales, heavy, barbed, and thorny, cutting him up inside until he’s too weak to stand. Sinking onto the mattress by his knees, “I will.”

Laios’ eyes flick from Kabru’s face down to his weepy erection.

He wants Laios in his mouth. Wants the warmth slapping his tongue, burrowing towards the cinch of his throat. He wants to grope the bulge his king forces through his neck and feel your hands buried in his dark hair. The latter need is fulfilled, your fingers combing through dark curls to push him into your husband’s crotch.

“What a pretty mouth, Kabru, you love to run it,” you climb onto the bed beside him, holding Laios steady by the base, “Try something new, hm?”

“New is- ”

“Try it, Kabru. Now,” regardless of the choppy demand, your voice remains dulcet. Pillowy and fluffy. He could melt into your sound.

His tongue lolls to slather the underside of Laios’ cock with hot saliva, enveloping the man in his mouth. Cheeks hollowing and lashes batting wetly up at the king, crimson deepening on Laios’ face. Behind him, the mattress dips and shakes, Laios’ eyes jumping from baby blues to over Kabru’s back, hips jerking against his chin.

Your hand lifts from inky hair, curls slipping between your fingers in vain attempts to tether you against his skull. Now both your palms run up Laios’ chest as you mold against his side. Your thighs spread around one of his arms and robe nowhere to be found, painted lips smear rouge up Laios’ neck and cheek before you claim his lips.

One of Laios’ hands cradles Kabru’s head, not rudely pushing nor wrangling his hair, just an affectionate reminder of whose cock is in his throat. Meanwhile, the hand between your thighs crooks towards your heat, middle finger ringing your clit -- earning a jump and heave from you.

Laios coaxes Kabru off, winded as he requests, “Can you two kiss? Please?”

Kabru gives the king no time to abjure before he’s spearing you with attention, not that you’re more patient; hurriedly cupping his cheeks and legs spreading to welcome him between. Sat up enough to give Laios a proper view, Kabru fondles your ass as you happily cram your lips to his. He wonders if your lip stain wipes off on him as well. He hopes it does.

“So beautiful,” Laios muses stroking his cock, casually flicking his wrist and thumbing the head, as you reach for Kabru’s.

Kabru’s lips sear down your neck, urged to bite. He does not.

“Soft, right?” Laios lays his head against your shoulder, poking obnoxiously into Kabru’s space (not that he minds), “Still sweet with wine.”

You taste better than the fucking wine.

Does Laios?

Your lips curl, drifting away just to whisper against his lips, “Would you like to kiss the king?”

“Can I?”

Before you can reaffirm, Laios snatches Kabru by the chin to kiss him.

Laios is not sweet like wine, he tastes like beer and salt and iron from a raw lip, and yet Kabru cannot drink him down fast enough.

Hands, big and calloused and sweltering, brand Kabru’s hips -- spinning him around to face the door as you unwork the man’s nightshirt. Tossing the flowy cloth aside, you press a final kiss to Kabru’s lips, before laying out beneath him.

Kabru’s eyes hone on the honeydew slick glossing your slit, hands scrambling for perch on your bracketing thighs as Laios’ settle on his ass. Anticipation builds and flows out of his mouth, rich and thick and in the form of a lashing tongue. Broad and cozy, Kabru sweeps up your cunt, thumbs parting you for the purest taste. Audible sighs fan over your pelvis in time with Laios burying his spit-slick fingers into Kabru’s hole.

A groan vibrates through your hips, Kabru’s electric eyes flashing over the quiver in your thighs as you grind onto his nose. Both hands knotting through his hair.

Fingers prod inside you, curling toward your stomach before scissoring apart just to noisily slurp out leaking wetness.

Burly hands rearrange Kabru again, manhandling him until he’s got his back against Laios’ chest with legs thrown out across the bed. Exhilaration surges through Kabru’s whole body, extremities jittering and whines dribbling down his lips. Slowly, he’s lowered onto Laios’ cock with teeny rasps inspiring you to grab him by the shoulders. Again, sweet lips meet his, but he realizes the ploy quickly: torturous pleasure rips through his gut as you push him back to prime for riding.

Laios’ hand finds your chest, tweaking your nipple while snapping his hips up. Pounding into Kabru’s clenching hole in time that you sink down on the poor man.

Over Kabru’s shoulder, you and Laios swap spit with noisy kisses and if he weren’t sweating ecstasy then maybe he’d find the power to be embarrassed over his desperation to join. Regardless of getting his brains ground into mush by your combined, incessant pistoning, Kabru finds himself giddy to be involved further.

You’re purposeful and elegant; excruciating, tantalizing bounces with nails digging into the meat of Kabru’s chest. As if you could easily tear him apart, only dangling in front of him like a carrot-drawn-horse.

Laios is frantic and overwhelming; hips unrelenting and thick muscled arms belting Kabru against him. Skin clapping skin, moist with sweat, and fat rippling from the impacts of Laios’ fucking. Each thrust into Kabru sends him rocketing further inside you; bulging deep, deep in your squelching cunt.

Contrasting in all ways -- your hands pet and scratch while Laios’ anchor and tug, you moan and mewl while Laios groans and growls. When you’re not kissing your husband you impress downy lips upon Kabru’s chest while Laios tears bruises from his neck with full teeth.

Passion swells each suck and stroke and pap, pap, pap until Kabru’s bursting from the inside out. He keens, body tensing.

“Breathe,” Laios huffs into his ear, voice low and crackling, “Breathe, it feels better when you don’t tighten up.”

Kabru heeds, blowing hot air across your bare chest as he cums, and you coo, “Good boy.”

A slush of your combined juices cascades, soaking and matting Kabru’s pubes. Wetting his and Laios’ balls. Three hard rams and Laios is spilling inside Kabru as well. Pants and gulps echoing around the room.

Reclining against the headboard, Laios slowly pulls your exhausted body off Kabru before slipping his cock out of the man. Each of you is fully aware the hygienic option is to wash yourselves, change the sheets, and maybe even comb through messy heads of hair.

None of you do, though.

Laios, grinning bright and alluring as the sun, has an arm nestled around both you and Kabru to keep you flush against his sides. Your head finds a pillow in your husband’s chest, Kabru copying the motion. Swamped exhales pass between yours and Kabru’s blissed out faces, but only measured breaths pull a serene rise and fall from Laios. Drool even leaks from the corner of Kabru’s mouth, he groans in disgust but can’t manage the strength to wipe it away. Neither can you, exhaustion poisoning you from the knees up.

A careful thumb dabs the spittal away, only to grossly end up smearing it across Kabru’s shoulder when Laios replaces his hand on the man’s bare arm.

“How…” Kabru shudders for breath, “Why…” his eyes flutter drowsily, “Not tired…?”

“I didn’t do much,” Laios reasons (whether he genuinely thinks that or is bluffing, nobody can be sure), voice low as he notices you’re beginning to drift asleep, “Wore yourselves out, though.”

“Still…” Kabru huffs defiantly, yawning against the moist valley between Laios’ pecs, “I… more stamina…”

“Ass,” you drowsily pitch in, eyes closed and lashes stark against your cheeks.

“Ass?” Laios looks down at Kabru.

“Ass,” Kabru yawns again, now capable of slurring full sentences together with his breath sufficiently caught, “First time taking it in the ass. Probably took more out of me than I expected…”

“You should’ve said something,” Laios lours, “Even monsters like Orcs that have sex for pleasure stretch their partners more than I did. It helps prevent tearing. I wish I could’ve seen more mating rituals before getting cursed.”

“You could read more…”

Kabru’s too tired to negate your yawn of a suggestion. He doesn’t need to before Laios mutters again, seconds away from passing out altogether,

“I’ve read about them a lot, I just wanted to see it for myself.”

Year 515. Some days later.

Laios suddenly turns in his throne, angling his body towards Kabru, “You think I can make polyamorous marriage legal?”

“Why?” Kabru’s sure he knows exactly where the king’s head is, he just wants to hear the man say it.

Sticking out his thumb, index, and middle finger, Laios scrunches the digits towards his palm twice, “Aren’t we all getting married?”

“You’ll have to ask your real spouse about that first.”

“I did.”

“Huh?!” that makes Kabru’s heart explode, blood and meat blowing through his orifices. Teasing Laios is easy now that he more clearly understands the man’s motives, but you?

You’re intimidating even after he’s been inside you, he doesn’t know how Laios can so casually ask you something like that (he does though, it’s due to Laios’ many loose screws).

“I already asked about us marrying you.”

“And…?”

“They thought it was a good idea!” Laios shakes off, as if Kabru should have just known you would go along with your husband’s insanity, “So, can I legalize it?”

“Probably,” Kabru settles a hand over his chest, hoping to calm his racing heart (or what remains, anyway), “I’ll look into it.”

“Yay! Thank you!”

~~~

kabru miserablism POV my beloved

beast laios and fae reader and treasure kabru imagery makes me so hard

[antleredweirdo]

Ok so you know how there are a bunch of ‘summoning Ghost King’ AUs? And how in both the DC universe and the DP universe (from what I’m aware of) the wall separating the spirit realm and the living realm is weakened during Halloween?

What if a group (cultists, justice league, teen titans, anyone) summon the Ghost King (otherwise known as the Balancer Of Two Worlds) and Danny shows up in his Halloween costume. More specifically, he gets summoned while dressed up as the Grim Reaper.

And thus, because Danny is awkward as all hell sometimes and just says shit, the summoners end up thinking Danny is the actual Grim Reaper.

Chaos ensues

[strawberryniceblock]

just thinking about what a day that must have been for tracker. you've been working for months on end to get your religious revival movement off the ground and its going great. your new gf is helping finance and your following is growing steadily. you do a very public miracle and things are looking up for your movement.

then one day your ex turns up with her crew, says she accidentally killed her god (again) and is just passing through. your new gf is kind enough to take your ex and her crew on a little tour of the place despite the awkwardness of it. during this tour you come around and think your ex and her friends are disrespecting one of your religious relics but before you can stop them they accidentally summon a dead god. pure chaos ensues where you and your gf are thrown and injured, multiple divinities are interfering, and your ex and her crew just...fuck off into a briefcase??? you are left in a collapsing world to pray for survival

[peleksstuff]

fluorescent ll. l harry styles x bassist!reader

*gifs not mine*

fluorescent l

Summary: Months into the tour, the relationship between (y/n) and Harry becomes strained, marked by growing distance and scarce conversations. Despite the predictable routine of soundchecks, performances, and afterparties, an invisible barrier separates them. After a concert in New York, an afterparty ensues, where a forced small talk reveals the complexities of unspoken dynamics.

----

Months passed, and the tour started. The distance between you and Harry grew larger with each city, the silence between you both speaking louder than any words could. The once vibrant camaraderie on stage now felt like a well-choreographed act, the music bridging the gap that had formed between you.

During the tour, the routine became predictable. Soundchecks, performances, and the occasional afterparty. But the conversations between you and Harry remained scarce. It was as if an invisible barrier had formed, keeping you at a distance.

After a concert in New York, an afterparty was inevitable. The show was electric, the crowd's energy palpable.

The dim lights, pulsating music, and lively chatter formed the backdrop of the night. You found yourself standing alone momentarily, nursing a drink and trying to lose yourself in the music reverberating through the venue.

As you sipped your drink in a corner, avoiding the crowd, Harry approached. The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting a surreal glow on the scene.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his tone uncertain.

The uncertainty in his eyes mirrored the complexities of the unspoken dynamics between you two. You shrugged, unable to summon the energy for a protest. The small talk was forced, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

The fluorescent lights of the venue cast an artificial glow on both of you. The noise of the party drowned in the background as a heavy silence settled between you, a familiar ghost of the past.

Harry took a sip of his drink, his eyes wandering around the room before settling back on you. The silence hung between you, heavy with unspoken words.

"The crowd was amazing tonight," he finally broke the silence, the music pulsating through the floor beneath your feet.

"Yeah, they were," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia for the times when the music had been the only language you needed to communicate.

The silence stretched between you for a moment before Harry spoke again, his eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability. "How I missed this."

A genuine laugh escaped your lips, surprised by the unexpected comment. "Missed what? The afterparties or the awkward conversations?"

He chuckled, the tension between you momentarily lifting. "Maybe a bit of both."

And then, as if to twist the knife already embedded in your heart, he added, "You know, my girlfriend back home would love these parties. She's been wanting to join me on tour, but it's complicated."

You forced a smile, masking the sting of his words, the mention of his girlfriend adding an extra layer of discomfort to the already strained atmosphere.

"Complicated seems to be a theme lately," you replied, taking another sip of your drink.

Harry's gaze held a mixture of regret and understanding. He sighed, seemingly grappling with his own internal conflicts. The noise of the party continued around you, the music pulsating through the air like a heartbeat, drowning out the unsaid words.

"I never wanted things to turn out like this."

The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own, but it offered little solace. The noise of the party continued around you, the music pulsating through the air like a heartbeat, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that enveloped your conversation.

You met his gaze, the flickering fluorescent lights above casting shadows on both your faces. "None of us did," you replied, your voice softening with resignation and lingering hurt.

Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping as if carrying the weight of the world. "I shouldn't have kissed you that night," he confessed, his words hanging in the air, pregnant with remorse.

The memories of that night flooded back— the warmth of his touch, the intensity of the moment, and the subsequent distance that had grown ever since. It felt like a wound ripped open anew, and the pain was raw.

The admission hit you like a sudden gust of wind, stealing the breath from your lungs. His gaze bore into yours, searching for a reaction, an understanding that could somehow lessen the burden of his revelation. The fluorescent lights above flickered again, casting intermittent shadows on his face, emphasizing the gravity of his words.

You took a steadying breath, trying to mask the hurt that threatened to surface. "Yeah, well, it happened."

"I wish we could go back," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible over the party's clamor.

"I wish a lot of things, too," you whispered, your gaze fixed on the dance floor. The weight of the past pressed down on you, the memories of a time when everything felt simpler and less complicated.

The night wore on, the pulsating music becoming a relentless reminder of the irreversible changes. Harry's presence, once a source of comfort and camaraderie, now carried a weight that neither of you could shake off.

"I need some air," you said, excusing yourself from the remnants of the conversation.

Stepping outside, the cool night air offered a temporary reprieve from the suffocating atmosphere within. You leaned against the railing, the distant sounds of the city blending with the muffled beats from the party behind you. The sky above was a canvas of city lights, each one telling a story of a life, a moment, a fleeting connection.

As the night faded into the early hours, the tour bus waited to transport you to the next city, and the unspoken understanding lingered. The road ahead was uncertain, and as you boarded the bus, you couldn't help but glance back at the city lights.

[ineffableigh]

Timeline of Suspicious Events Brain Dump - PART 1

OK, I gotta get this out of my brain and onto some kinda page so here we go! Spoilers galore in here probably

I feel there's far too many instances of Incredibly Convenient Timing™ throughout season two so I gotta get these written down. Leaving out the minisodes for now since, until I watch them through again, I feel they're mainly there to provide character background and show Aziraphale's arc from naive to more understanding of the deep cruelty of Heaven. Dropping the rest under the cut!

Semi-chronological events:

Armageddidn't - Beelzebub and Gabriel discuss how that shit was supremely fucked.

Bar 1 and 2 - Beez and Gab meet up again and agree NOT to do Armageddon 2 Electric Boogaloo. NOTE: in BOTH these instances, the same two guys are at the table behind them playing chess, then cards. Very suspicious.

Bar 3 - Beez and Gab set up the Every Day phenomenon in Edinburgh and Gab receives the fly. I couldn't see the dudes from the previous bar in the background this time but not sure.

Heaven - Gabriel refuses to start Armageddon 2. They seem to move on.

Heaven - An unknown amount of time later, Gabriel is put on trial by the Metatron and sentenced to a big demotion. He 'goes to clean out his desk' and flees to Earth. CONVENIENTLY, the Metatron essentially lets him go ("Should we sound an alarm?" "Oh don't be so wet. You'll all just have to find him." This is suspicious because we KNOW the disdain he has for the angels' competence.)

We then see Aziraphale get the message from Maggie that she wants to talk, which has three suspicious elements for me: That she left a note instead of coming to talk to him, the misspelling (ugrency), and then the odd fake crying. Everything about this interaction feels strange and scripted for a planned interaction, whether Maggie knows it or not. Why did she wait 8 months to bring up the late rent?

Sometime after this, or perhaps during, Shax and Crowley discuss in the park about "something going down in the Up. UP up." I feel like this implies that Beez already knows Gab was getting fired, but I'm speculating heavily here. But clearly SOMEONE in Hell knows something was going on, OR Hell already knows about the Second Coming being on the agenda.

Gabriel arrives to GREAT AND DRAMATIC FANFARE at the Bookshop. Sure, a naked man is novel, but LOTS of weird people are constantly shown in the background of most outdoor shots throughout both seasons. I find it EXTREMELY STRANGE that the ENTIRE street plus cars all stop and crowd around to watch Gabriel arrive. The cars even block the streets! It's VERY strange.

Aziraphale calls Crowley, who's driving Somewhere™. They agree to meet at the cafe across the street. Awkwardness about the 'naked man friend' ensues, etc.

The two move to the bookshop and cross Maggie along the way. They make a point of having her call Aziraphale 'an angel' and refuse food. Likely a red herring but worth noting.

Crowley meets 'Jim' and loses his shit. I agree it's very Interesting™ that Crowley says to 'ask him properly', as this ties in to suspicious memory related stuff throughout the season.

Crowley leaves and gets hit by lightning. We see the lightning hit the cafe door and some lights. I do wonder WHY it did though - it didn't hit any other shops, why only Nina's cafe, and while Maggie happened to be there? AND it affected their phones? It's just a LOT to get them stuck in the cafe together 'til later.

Crowley gets summoned to Hell by Beez and the Housefly Brigade and learns about the Book of Life threat. We heard this over the phone with Michael earlier. Crowley doubts the existence of the Book, so we know there's a threat out there but can't be sure it's real.

SIDE THOUGHT: Michael says anyone involved could be struck from the Book of Life but at the end of e06, the Metatron says Michael 'has no such authority'. This brings up a huge 'who said what to whom?' gap we absolutely need to fill. Where did Michael get the Book of Life idea if not from the Metatron?

The Husbands do their giant miracle as a direct result of the above dubious threat, which directly triggers Heaven suspecting the bookshop as Gabriel's hideout. This is our first major 'convenient plot progression' flag, I think.

Next modern day segments are intercut with the Job minisode. Here we learn about the Every Day song that Gabriel, surprisingly, can remember. It feels likely that love can make you remember things you lost, so I doubt this particular event is Too Convenient.

On the other hand, it feels Too Convenient that of all the record shops, MAGGIE'S shop is the one supplying records to that particular pub up in Edinburgh? That seems an awfully long way off. It's like 7.5 hours!

Point 2: This interaction with Maggie is extremely strange. She's idly flipping through records until Aziraphale comes in, and then she stands there very blankly until bursting into very dubious tears about Nina. I don't know about you but I feel it very strange for anyone who WASN'T comfortable to directly come talk to their landlord to suddenly wax poetic about their 'doomed love life'. And then immediately pivot to the song/records/pub. We also learn Nina has a partner here but Azi just. Ignores this later?

IMMEDIATELY after this, the Archangels make a surprise visit and because Maggie's convenient outburst was on his mind, he pretends THAT was what the giant miracle was about. This is our second major 'convenient plot progression' flag.

Right after this is the meetup in the pub. CONVENIENTLY this is right when Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets) happens to be getting a drink, rather than running his store. He has his clipboard with him and everything, and pins the Monthly Shop Associates Meeting on Aziraphale. I think this is awfully convenient and becomes our third major suspicious plot flag.

After this, Aziraphale and Crowley discuss having to set up Nina and Maggie. These two dinguses go straight to 'we have to make them actually fall in love!' instead of coming up with a scam plan like they did in the Job minisode. I don't know what to make of this, but I figure the two of them are just so flustered by everything they don't come up with, well... a smarter plan.

IMPORANT: Before the Job Minisode the clock nearby says it's 5:20pm. When Aziraphale comes back from his apparent reverie, Crowley is gone and it's freaking 6:30pm! That's a big gap to fill.

UHHH HAVE WE DISCUSSED THE FACT THAT THE RESURRECTIONIST PUB ADDRESS IS 66 GOAT GATE EDINBURGH? 66 GOAT? THAT SEEMS VERY SUSPICIOUS DOES IT NOT?

Here Crowley learns a) that Maggie and Nina got stuck in the cafe together after his tantrum, b) Nina has a partner and c) Nina doesn't appear terribly interested in Maggie. He never seems to mention this to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale asks for the Bentley to go investigate the pub. I find it very strange that he's determined to go by car when car = 7.5hrs, train = 5hrs, and plane = 1.5hrs. Why you gotta leave for 16+hrs Aziraphale??

The next day, Muriel shows up to 'inspect' the miracle. Both Aziraphale and Crowley can see that they (Muriel) are out of their depth and extremely inexperienced. This is their SECOND chance to make shit up like they did with Job!

It really feels like Saraquiel was trying to do them a solid and they fuckin flubbed it lol

CONTINUE HERE: [linky]

[lost-in-horrorland]

Note to self; never offer your blood to help a friend summon demons. Tegan learned that the hard way, after giving a few drops of blood to help Jazz summon a demon to apparently force them into marriage. Tegan just wanted to scroll through Tumblr and stare at the fan works created about the King DILF of Hell known as Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel. Nope, instead of summoning a demon from Hell, the ritual instead sends a person to Hell and binds them to a demon to the human in the most ancient of unions. Though, the ritual never specified which version of Hell. Tegan did not sign up for being bound to the Devil Himself in (Un)holy matrimony! At least he's adorable... Maybe they can actually make this work? Only time will tell. A pure self-indulgent Isekai fic with my favorite OC, Tegan Foley, getting thrown into Hazbin Hotel and being paired with Lucifer because of Daddy Issues.

Figured I'd post the link to my Hazbin Hotel fanfic here! It's a Lucifer/OC fic

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/F F/M Gen M/M Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon) Relationships: Lucifer Magne | Morningstar/Original Female Character(s), Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Original Character(s), Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel) & Original Female Character(s), Husk (Hazbin Hotel) & Original Female Character(s, )Lucifer Magne | Morningstar/Original Character(s) Characters: Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Lilith Magne | Morningstar, Asmodeus | Ozzie (Helluva Boss), Niffty (Hazbin Hotel), FizzaRolli (Helluva Boss), Fat Nuggets (Hazbin Hotel), Cherri Bomb (Hazbin Hotel), Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel), The Egg Bois (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Lute (Hazbin Hotel), Adam (Hazbin Hotel), Beelzebub (Helluva Boss), original hellhound character Additional Tags: Pre Pilot Episode, Past Lilith Morningstar/Lucifer Morningstar, Depressed Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Touch-Starved Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Lucifer Magne | Morningstar Needs A Hug, Awkward Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Divorced Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Good Parent Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Mental Health Issues, Eventual Smut, slow burn? more like medium burn, Original Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Alternating, OC is chaotic, The Author Regrets Nothing, Author Is Not Religious, Tags May Change, Self-Indulgent, Forced Marriage, Daddy Issues, kink positive, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Hilarity Ensues, Co-Parenting, OC acts like a mom at times cause she has the one working brain cell, not beta read we die like Adam, Humor and Smut with Fluff, Came Here For a Good Time so Hold the Angst, OC is Depressed and Autistic, OC was in therapy before going to Hell

[avionvadion]

Ignore me, just some very self indulgent OC x Lucifer doodles I did in my notebook while watching Dan and Phil play Poppy Playtime’s Chapter 3.

Basically, Eleanora ends up in Hell by complete freaking accident when a demon tries to reverse engineer a pentagram summoning circle, is attacked by said demon, but saved last second by Charlie and Vaggie as they saw a strange and very suspicious light (think a huge beam from the sky) and went to check it out.

Note: Lucifer is standing on his tiptoes.

Might start pre-Angel joining the hotel???

Charlie doesn’t know how to send El back to Earth, but makes a deal with her to protect her/give her shelter and use magic to keep her lungs working (since human medicine isn’t exactly available) if she helps out at the hotel with being a “righteous example” of how the Sinners should try and behave to redeem themselves, since she’s an awkward and very nice human being who doesn’t do drugs, lol. She’s also kind of the greeter???

Thinks Lucifer is Charlie’s brother at first because damn, but eventually ends up working with him to try and strengthen his and Charlie’s father/daughter bond.

I have this goofy scene in my head where she’s talking to him on the phone (maybe Charlie gave them each other’s numbers in case of emergency since she’s currently the only human in Hell??? I dunno) and she suggests inviting Charlie over for tea and he’s just freaking PANICKING and she’s using a soft and sweet voice to calm him and asks if he’d prefer to write a letter to Charlie asking her to come over for tea, and if he’d like her (El) to deliver said letter.

Luci just fucking kidnaps El because he doesn’t know what to write without it sounding lame or desperate or silly, and she kinda guides him through it? And at the end he’s like, “No! NO! I can deliver it!”

But he panics again so when they go back to the hotel El is awkwardly helping Luci even more awkwardly give Charlie the letter (and maybe a magic duck that spews rainbows and glitter as a gift) and so Charlie goes to have teatime and Lucifer is ecstatic and he kinda just keeps going to El for advice before the two just. Become close friends.

(Dude just starts calling her for literally anything and everything because she just listens and calms him when he starts panicking, and then kidnaps her frequently for tea so he’s not having tea parties alone with his hundreds of magic ducks that he made and so they can discuss ideas)

Lucifer doesn’t realize he’s smitten until Angel catches the two hugging (El was saying she’s glad he and Charlie are a lot closer now and Luci was super happy and thanking her for her help) and Angel makes a very Angel comment. El bickers with Angel because oh gods don’t get her killed by insinuating that, Angel, that’s the king of fucking Hell he would never, and Lucifer is like “Oh shit I do have feelings, didn’t realize I was still capable of that after the divorce” and chaos ensues.

Eventually it’s discovered that El should be able to leave if the demon who summoned her is dead (he is, he died during the recent extermination around the time Angel was recruited) and if her deal with Charlie is broken. Charlie nullifies the deal, but El is still there.

They realize she’s unknowingly entered a contract with Lucifer, buuuuut… plot twist; he’s not about to let her go.

[freetobeeyouandme]

Chapter 8: The Road Goes Ever On And On

Chapter 8 of my Byler Fantasy Isekai AU is up on Ao3 now! The party goes camping as they try to find El's sister.

Tags: M, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Fantasy AU, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Horror, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

Summary:

Mike Wheeler hates High School, so when he almost dies and falls through a portal to another world, he’s not going to complain. Especially not when that world does not only have swords and magic but seems to work exactly according to the rules of his favorite tabletop role-playing game. But his euphoria might be short lived because the party of adventurers he falls in with turns out to be the target of an evil god and the fate of the world might rest on their shoulders. So, exactly like his games of D&D. Except the wanna-be Paladin soon realizes that being a hero is much harder in real life than it is in-game. - Or, Mike gets isekai’d into a world where D&D is real.

An excerpt and taglist below the cut:

Excerpt:

El takes over dabbing at her still bleeding nose from Mike before long, staying silent as they watch her, stunned at her announcement. The rest of their party joins them before anyone has time to come to terms with El’s news. Lucas relays it to those of them that had missed it, but no further words are exchanged about it for now.

The others continue acting like El’s bleeding nose is a normal occurrence, so while Mike hangs back, watching her with careful eyes, he has to accept that El is in no immediate danger – or need of his assistance.

They briefly check in about what they’d accomplished in town and then set off earlier than planned, none of them willing to waste light by having an early dinner. Mike finds himself looking back at Loch Nora longingly as they do, its inns and taverns promising warm food and comfortable beds, but he understands why they’re not taking that risk. As they trek another hour or so through the wilderness he almost wishes himself back at the Laboratories, though. He is looking forward to the day that they defeat One and a semblance of normal returns to his life – although what normal looks like for him in this world, he has yet to find out.

As darkness sets, Will and El summon lights to guide their way, but even so it quickly becomes too dark to continue. So, they stumble along the woods until the next clearing and then finally make camp. Max and the three elves head out to collect firewood since they’re the only ones with Darkvision, while the rest of them do what they can to get camp ready by the light Will has summoned.

Mike finds himself next to Mrs. Byers preparing food to roast over the fire. With his mother doing most of the cooking, his skills in that respect amount to being barely able to scramble some eggs, but under Will’s mother’s watchful eye he successfully strings up pieces of meat and veggies and sets them aside to marinate while they wait for the fire to get started.

Beyond her instructions and corrections the two of them work mostly in silence, which Mike isn’t too unhappy about. He never quite knows what to say to adults, and that only seems to go doubly for dragonborn women from strange fantasy worlds. With his mother’s friends he at least knows how to bring up the weather or answer their questions about school and if he has plans for college. He can’t begin to fathom a topic that might sustain a conversation between him and Will’s mother. Are goblins as much of a threat here than they are in D&D? and How much death and destruction do you think One will wreak before we stop him, do you think? both don’t really seem appropriate.

Like his mother’s friends, though, Mrs. Byers seems to dislike the awkward silence that ensues and so eventually she does try to talk to him. She hands him more of the meat she’d cut up and asks: “How are you holding up?”

The look she gives him is concerned and Mike straightens up, sticking out his chin, without deciding to. He doesn’t like that she thinks he can’t deal with the situation just because he’s new. Smiling grimly he says: “Probably as well as everyone else.”

Mrs. Byers’ face softens. She holds up her hand as if she considers putting it on his shoulder and then seems to decide against it – which, considering the meat juices on her fingers, Mike isn’t too upset about.

“You’re allowed to not be okay, though,” she says. “The rest of us have been dealing with One and the Circle for a while now. But you didn’t sign up for this.”

And Mike appreciates the concern at the same time it makes his skin boil. He hates the insinuation that he’s somehow different than the rest in this regard. “Well, the idea that monsters exist isn’t so strange to me. I used to play games where you fight them all the time, so this is fine. And I’m not the one who almost died at One’s hands, so you should be asking Max and El that more than me. I’m not sure he even knows I exist.”

Mrs. Byers doesn’t immediately respond, watching him finish another stick of meat and veggies with a strange expression. Finally she says, quietly: “You’re very brave, Mike.”

Mike feels his cheeks heat up at the strange compliment paired with the look he still can’t decipher, so he’s glad when Dustin comes over, gestures at the middle of their small camp and asks: “Hey, Wheeler, wanna help me prep a fire pit?”

“On it.” He gives Mrs. Byers an awkward smile and follows the Artificer to dig a very appreciated hole.

Lucas returns first, and with his arm full of dry branches they manage to get a fire going – kindled with magic, of course. Mike and Dustin return to Mrs. Byers to get the food, but thankfully she says nothing more and so Mike can almost forget about their conversation as Dustin and Lucas chatter around him.

Unofficial Tag List (aka you interacted with my posts about this fic, please tell me if you want me to not tag you in the future (or want to be added)): @smalltownwheeler @wheelerpilled @wrong-energy @foodiewithdahoodie @doggo9 @gardenfairie @beelikesbyler @beverlysclown @yickarus @sourdough-el @hessolivagant @hesquietoday @oldfashionedmorphine @total-serene560 @bylersrise @hawkinsunderground @longtallglasses @generalstorecashier @snixx @camel-casing @bylersbear01 @turningsoft @casatoan @maru-chu @mid13s @goldentrunks

[red-pandaaa]

Panda's Ultimate Masterpost

my Larry fics on AO3 - newest to oldest

Series

🐼 Wordplay Round 8

♦️ Omega Love

🐼 Kinktober 2023

♦️ OT5 Pornstars

🐼 Becoming Family

♦️ Grindr Meet Cute

🐼 Meet Me In The Bathroom

♦️ Wordplay Round 7

🐼 Sense-Sational Series

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Harry picks up his boyfriend and soulmate from the airport.

🐼 Man Spreading | 2,1K | Explicit

Harry complains about Louis manspreading, Louis makes a joke, and rimming ensues

♦️ My Lungs Don't Breathe (don't want any kind of life without you, dear) | 5,6K | Teen And Up

🐼 "Are there any gays in here?" | 7,9K | Explicit

Louis is fed up with meaningless hook-ups, Harry happened to visit Starbucks on a Wednesday, and Clifford is the best

♦️ Anarchy In You | 2K | Explicit

Louis gets a new tattoo, Harry wants to get fingered, and after too long apart, the backseat of a car will do

🐼 Eating out | 1,9K | Explicit

Louis and Harry are best friends and roommates, they're both oblivious to the other's pining, and it takes a silly misunderstanding for them to finally admit their feelings

♦️ Words Weren't Enough | 2K | Teen and Up

Louis finds Harry practicing the piano piece for his last show late at night, and there are some tears, memories and playing the piano together involved

🐼 Summon a Demon | 666 | Mature

Louis hears Harry talking through their shared wall, until he finally has enough and goes to confront Harry

♦️ A Ton Of Things We Have Yet To Do | 3K | Teen and Up

Louis falls during a polo game, Harry is concerned, and in the end they’re both okay

🐼 Torn-Up Tank Top | 1,8K | Explicit

Alpha Louis gets back to the hotel after his show, missing a torn up tank top and his Omega

♦️ Everything Is Batter With You | 2,4K | Teen and Up

Harry comes across a fun baking TikTok and convinces Louis to do it

🐼 That’s The Way Love Goes | 8,8K | Mature

Liam is going through a break up. Louis remembers.

♦️ Court Wine with @enchantedlandcoffee | 7,3K | Teen and Up

After a misunderstanding during a scrabble game, Alpha Louis starts courting Omega Harry without the latter being aware of it.

🐼 stars are just burning rocks in space | 21,8K | Mature

Where Harry and Louis meet at a party and spend the night together.

♦️ I Blue It | 3,5K | Explicit

Harry wears his blue bandana. It does things to Louis.

🐼 "Could You Please Pass Me The Salt, Daddy?" | 1,4K | Teen and Up

Harry and Louis have dinner with Des and an awkward situation occurs

[holycrowe]

Me: so Grognak meets this guy LIL CAPP who tries to sign them to his record label but he also kinda has a crush on them? Anyway some shenanigans ensue with the help of Grognak's friends Dawn and Sherri they run down to the pier where Sheri and Dawn try to get Lil Cap and Grognak together. But Grognak's real crush is already there, Troy, who was lured down to the pier under the pretenses they were kidnapped. Dawn and Sherri, sensing this love triangle, decide to have a little Bachelorette style show and summon friends of theirs down to participate and win Grognak's heart. There's a colorful, strange assortment of contestants but the important ones are Lil Cap, Troy whom Grognak flirts with the entire time, and Anto. Anto is a fellow Irishman who has hit on Grognak in the past but received no attention.

Then a mysterious masked man comes along and tries to woo Grognak. It's very awkward and the two have no chemistry. Anto gets really jealous and assumes Grognak is really into this masked man and kidnaps him. Anto takes him to a crane where Dawn attempts to save him. Grognak takes their sweet time getting to the crane, taking a break at Burger Shot to get some food. Eventually Grognak finally gets there, scales the crane, and very poorly talks Anto down. Grognak reveals he actually likes Troy and he was the winner of the bachelorette not this masked man. Anto swears to find this Troy guy and then the cops run in and save them all. Lil Cap heroically saves some people. This is overlooked as soon as Grognak realizes Troy is there.

Grognak hangs out with a girl named Posy, Grog's long lost sister. They have some fun around town and meet up with Troy. Around this time Steven, a guy who also loves Grognak but was once used monetarily by Groggers, has been seeding doubt into Troy's mind about Goggers, whether or not they like him. Steven also helps them get to a free plane ride they won somehow only to find out Anto was there!!! He begins throwing Posy, Troy, and Steven out of the plane and demands Grognak marry him! Grognak agrees but then demands money and a car. Then forgets they were married a week later.

This boils over eventually after Troy finds out Grognak is married and mopes around. They're hanging out with Dawn, Posy, and Troy. Troy and Anto throw some words around over the phone and are gonna fight. Anto stalks them a little as Troy broods around, ready for a fight. Then Anto shows up and pulls a gun on Troy, kidnapping him and driving him off towards an air field, forcing him to call Grognak to say he's leaving for Mexico to be with his secret family there forever.

This all comes to a head when dawn drives them all to the air field where Anto gets out with Troy, ready to kill him. Then Grognak rolls up like no!! Wait!! And then Troy and Anto strike a deal. They have a duel. If Troy wins Anto and Grognak are divorced. If Anto wins, they stay married and Troy never speaks to Grognak again. Before the duel starts Troy turns to Grognak like "you're not a prize to be won is this okay with you? I love you" only for Anto to punch him in the head and make him start the duel. They do the whole thing, back to back and step ten paces. Troy only has a pistol and Anto has an assault rifle. Despite this heavier firepower Anto misses for the most part only hitting him in the shoulder, Troy jumps out of the way of the bullets and headshots Anto with one clean shot, winning the duel. They all part ways and Grognak never returns, finally set free.

The sad part is that Troy has moments later where he drives to a secluded place and tries to call Grognak, only to get no answer. He also talks to Posy about it, how much they miss them and all that.

My husband:

[anneimaginesundertale]

The Best of All Timelines Timeline

The Best of All Timelines is the ongoing saga that's the "canon" story on this blog. Unless something is set in an AU, this is the timeline where stuff happens in my drabbles. (I will also try to start tagging stuff that might not be "canon"--for example, if I write a hurt/comfort fic about somebody getting shot, that probably didn't happen.)

Here's how events shook out so far. Kind of a floating timeline, so I'm not putting dates in here, but I hope it makes sense. Some of this is linked to old roleplay parties, which should be available to reread HERE.

Monsters are freed. Sans and Papyrus make a home on the surface along with the other Undertale monsters in Ebott City and the surrounding area.

Sans messes with a certain machine in the basement and accidentally brings several other pairs of skeletons into this world. After comparing worlds, they name the other timelines Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, Horrortale, and Mobtale. The boys try living together, but numerous arguments and awkward encounters send them scattering across the country.

No one thinks to check if the machine is still summoning skeletons from other worlds. Sans knows that more have come through, but hides it. The new skeletons are sent off to live their own lives.

Anne (that's me, y'all; we're all about self-indulgence here) meets Sans and Papyrus when they move to Littleton (a quiet village about half an hour from the city). They become friends and one summer the boys invite her to go and visit their other cousins. Anne loves all the boys so much that she tells them they're always welcome in her home. The boys become regular visitors.

Anne hosts a Halloween party with some of her new human friends and invites all the skeletons. The boys all like her new house so much that they gradually all move in. The house has more than enough room for everybody, which is good, because more cousins show up! The Mobtale brothers make an appearance around this time.

Anne hosts a Gyftmas party where the Mafiafell bros show up.

After a mysterious noise starts coming from the basement, the G!bros are discovered! They finally found a way out of the void through the machine. Although not everybody trusts them, they join the family.

A spring cleaning party uncovers strange magic items in the shed and the attic. The items are sent away to Alphys to study at her lab, but eventually are stolen by...somebody. This is an ongoing mystery.

More mysterious noises and then the basement explodes! The Outertale brothers crashland their spaceship through the machine, effectively destroying it. No more skeletons can come through that way, but there are more in the world than initially thought.

Gradually, we meet the Dancetale brothers, the Oceantale brothers, and the Farmtale brothers.

Somewhere in here, an old friend of the blog (@kezi-likes-undertale) invented a dream game machine that allows people to go into various AUs and play out stories. This has worked out really well (other than one hiccup with G! and Jess, but that was a one time thing...probably...)

Several of Anne's human friends have fallen in love with skeletons. Anne herself has fallen for Sweets (HT Papyrus). There are three weddings (Blue and Ray, Anne and Sweets, and Boss and Trashy). Other skeletons make relationships official. Lots of cuteness ensues.

Blue and Ray (@pureangleda) have a baby! Randy Bistroke Gaster is the first babybones born into the big family and everybody absolutely adores him!

TIME SKIP -- 5 years later!

Some of the skeletons moved out of Anne's house and into their own homes, either in the neighborhood (Skeleton Acres) or in the wider world (Littleton, Ebott City). The OT bros live in Ebott City and work at the botanical gardens/aquarium. A few moved further away or went on long trips. The MF bros are at their casino in Las Vegas. The DT bros are on a world dance tour. The UO bros live in the ocean near a vacation town called Sweet Sands, about an hour from Littleton. The farm bros have their farm about half an hour west of Littleton, near a town called Pinewood.

There are now six babybones in the family, with another one on the way! Ray and Blue have Randy (5) and Cherry (2). Anne and Sweets have Someday (4) and twins Grace and Gideon (2). Boss and Trashy have Poppy (2) and another baby on the way.

Randy had his fifth birthday party just before Gyftmas. It was Pokemon themed, as that is the lad's current obsession.

In January 2024, we pick up with the family one month after that party. From here on out, we'll have to figure out what happens next!

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Thunderbrush 14

Spirit Center: Under the Moth

A conwoman disguised as a noble and the delegation of university students studying her have arrived in the jungle city of Thunderbrush, ruled by ancient dryads and organized crime. Will they manage to stay uninvolved in shady conspiracies? (No.)

Story so far | Session log index | Previous session

Last time, the party answered the request of Dall Odegir, whose girlfriend somehow ended up a vampire, and who desperately needs Looseleaf's help (as advertised in the newspaper!) to cure her. Unfortunately, their house call was interrupted by a visit from some ghost dryad mafia goons come to shake Dall down for extra protection money- and the ensuing confrontation got way out of hand when Saelhen accidentally summoned toothy hellmonsters.

With the hellmonsters subdued, though, they're still left in a pretty awkward situation- and still have a vampire to treat.

Oh, right. They convinced the goons that they belonged to a rival mafia and were enslaving people. That, uh... Looseleaf figures the best solution to that little nightmare is to just come clean.

“Actually, uh, we sort of, made that up,” Looseleaf says. “We thought you looked like the type who’d be scared if we said we had protection from one of the other gangs, because gods know this place doesn’t have actual cops or anything. And then that didn’t work so, uh, we went invisible and doubled-down on trying to scare you off. Sssssssorry, but, look, more importantly, which of you needs healing.” “I mean, if you think about it, all we actually did was drop an alchemical smokebomb and then hide and shout spooky things at you. We really thought that you would be a superstitious lot that would run away if we were sufficiently spooky at you!” “…That obviously didn’t work, though. So, um, backup plan, will you agree to, uh, not beat me up, if I heal you.” “I’m literally just a university student, gods.”

It takes a Luck point on some convincing to get them to believe her, and she has to profess ignorance about where the nightmare tooth-dogs came from, but she gets through, and starts providing healing to the injured.

(One of the "injured" is the stone guy they called Radish, who passed out despite sustaining no apparent injuries. She spirit-reads him, and discovers his biology is unusual- he's just a weird sinewy endoskeleton running through solid rock. He's not hurt- he just seems to be totally exhausted and out of energy, despite not doing anything particularly tiring. One of the goons expresses confusion- "we ain't been underground that long!")

With the rest of the injured treated, though, the problem is... the mafia guys are still keen on doing their shakedown. The presence of witnesses and bystanders makes them keen to forgive and forget the attempted deception, but they still want their Dall's money.

(They ominously imply that they need the money for some major operation they're planning- one that should depose Tonnera Mighty for good! Hm.)

Oliver attempts to intervene with some cutting words, throwing his weight around as the son of the Mighty's chief medical officer- but it turns out that's not actually that much weight and one of the scarier ones chases him out with an axe. The bystanders aren't much help either- these sorts of shakedowns are routine, and they actually encourage Dall to surrender, not wanting to piss off the ghost dryad who rules this part of town and make trouble for them.

Looseleaf has a tactic for getting rid of these guys for the time being- her healing, which she just did to a bunch of them including their leader, is temporary. She's using her technique where she uses a copy of her own flesh to quickly patch wounds in combat for temp HP- but the body rejects that kind of thing quickly, so she emphasizes that they need to get to a real cleric, fast.

(Looseleaf could totally just do a better job healing and fix them for real, but why would she tell them that?)

The goons reluctantly clear out, fearing for their lives for the time being, but will eventually return. In the meantime... Oliver dumps some pneumancy-generated slime on Wide-Smile, their leader, just to annoy him out of spite. Thanks to a 1 on the roll, this causes him to, uh, trip down the hole left by his bomb blast earlier, injuring him further. Which is... absolutely not the party's problem! Fuck 'im!

Shortly thereafter, the party's backup arrives, a bit too late to be useful. It's Miriko Watchwood, and...

...Jess Chainer, that product-pusher for the Gentle Chains who they encountered on first arriving in Thunderbrush. This is alarming- but Miriko claims to have her "under control", not-so-subtly implying that she's got her under vampiric domination. She was going to bring her back to the Watchwood to be "disposed of", but she got the distress call in the middle of taking care of that, so she's just got this mind-whammied slaver hanging around. Troubling.

Dall shooes all the bystanders out of her forge (one asks if she wants them to report the monsters to "the Downmores", whoever they are), and Saelhen gets to work disguising Gelly's vampiric traits so she can be smuggled out to a cleric's place. She asks what the penalty to the roll to disguise her would be.

Huh. Has she been using a lot of makeup lately? Weird. Oliver is able to supplement this with pneumantically-conjured concealer, though.

Looseleaf and Saelhen introduce Miriko to Oliver... sort of. It's very difficult to do this and explain where her information is coming from without mentioning that she's a vampire working for a ghost dryad mafia, which are things Oliver is not a fan of.

Miriko opts to give her report to Looseleaf privately, via telepathy. Apparently... Fallen, dryad of the Sounds (those guys they just chased off) is planning some major attack on Tonnera in the near future.

The other thing Miriko tells them about is that the Ashtray- one of the dryad gangs known to be involved in this conspiracy- is sending people to explore Dead Jane.

Dead Jane is a ghost dryad who, about a hundred years ago, died. It's not clear how, exactly, but her corpse began emitting some sort of murder-radiation that killed everything in a radius around her territory. The strength of the magical kill-field has waned over time- and now, apparently, the Ashtray- a bunch of anarchist punk kids, mainly- have been roped into doing dungeon-crawls into Dead Jane's magically radioactive corpse for some reason.

There's also more bad news:

Fair enough! Reasonable decision!

Miriko emphasizes that this conspiracy seems to be largely built on blackmail and manipulation, which annoys her because blackmail and manipulation are supposed to be her gang's thing. The various parts of the conspiracy may or may not know anything about why they're doing what their doing, or the conspiracy's true goals. Getting to the bottom of this is going to be tricky.

(Meanwhile, Saelhen asks Gelly to take a look at the scrapes she got on her neck from the hellmonsters. Is that a good idea?)

Saelhen is very lucky Gelly kept making her restraint rolls, is what I'll say. This could have very easily not been fun a fun and flirty joke scene, and been something more difficult.

Anyway- they need to move quickly. Gelly is close to the point of no return for healing, and it turns out Dall's plan to get blood from people to feed her and wean her off... backfired pretty bad. Blood is what accelerates the transformation, and things are almost unrecoverable. They're going to need an experienced cleric- and Orluthe isn't going to suffice. Channeling Iska in combat is a very different thing from doing magic surgery.

Luckily, Oliver has a contact he can use, here! He knows a cleric of Karou, god of Joy, who's willing to work discreetly. The friend's mom's a cleric, too, and runs a place called Underbush Experiences, a bar slash music venue slash hotel slash brothel slash temple where discretion is necessary to stay in business.

They make their way across town to the place, keeping Gelly disguised and out of sight when possible. Eventually, they arrive, and meet Sam Sweethoney, Oliver's favorite tattoo artist.

(If you want to get a permanent tattoo done, you gotta have it done by a cleric, so that a god can deliberately make one that's magically very difficult for other gods to heal away.)

Sam refers the party to his mom, Saralee Sweethoney, just inside. They enter, and she is... not decent. She's doing some sort of naked meditation in a fountain under a huge mural of Karou, and doesn't seem fazed at all by Oliver walking in with a bunch of strangers.

Looseleaf explains their predicament to Saralee, and- somewhat alarmed- she begins channeling Karou to handle the situation.

Karou, upon seeing Looseleaf... has a sort of strange reaction. His projected face flickers and wavers, and he mutters "That's what it is..." to himself.

This illustrates... a couple salient things about gods. Firstly... when being channeled, they don't remember every single piece of knowledge that belongs to the god as a whole- just what their host knows, plus a little package of essential information and divine magic skill.

But... he's been consistently recognizing the party on sight, when they've met him, which is very strange. A god going in to be channeled has a very limited amount of essential information they can bring with them- and for some reason, who Looseleaf and Saelhen are is a piece of information he's opted to include every time someone here channels him, just in case.

That's got implications.

But he's happy to help with the vampirism thing, which previously had been pretty friggin' difficult. Even gods can't reliably cure it! Having some help would be great.

(Meanwhile... in Thieves' Cant, in this setting a sign language, Saelhen covertly signs something to Karou.)

Y'know, I forget if that went anywhere! Farn, you should let me know what you were thinking with that.

It's surgery time! The party helps get Gelly strapped down, which has both her and Dall looking kind of nervous. This is a novel and extremely risky medical treatment, and Gelly could easily die!

That's right- it's time for the SURGERY SYSTEM!

The way this works is... Looseleaf, with the aid and advice of her friends, has to figure out- from scratch- how to cleanse a near-complete vampiric infection, by making Spirit rolls to get information and make changes. With Karou supporting this and performing general healing, they have a certain amount of insurance against making mistakes and endangering Gelly's life- specifically, they had an unknown number (secretly, six, and more secretly, seven) of fuckups in the tank before Gelly bit it.

The consequence of this bad roll is... I present an accurate picture of what's going on, and two possible approaches, one of which is productive and one of which is guaranteed to be disastrous. It's up to them to figure out which is which by reasoning it out.

The problem is...

There's a resource the party declines to tap, here- the goblin sitting outside is getting a tattoo indicating membership in the Thorns, a dryad gang of incredibly elite assassins. Since gods handle most healing, anatomy is a skill limited mainly to people trying to break someone's anatomy effectively, and he could have useful expertise. They don't take the risk of making that contact, though- it could be the guy is a fraud getting a tattoo to intimidate people.

Should've gone with your gut, Looseleaf!

She expunges the vampiric parasite from Gelly's blood, leaving... not all that much blood left, really. But they have Karou healing, so her blood supply recharges pretty quickly! They clean out her infected blood, replace it with fresh blood, and... now her vampire-infected circulatory system is full of fresh blood.

Saelhen twigs to the problem immediately:

Strike 1/6.

They consider completely stopping her heart and killing bloodflow to the body, but decide this would be near-immediately fatal to the patient. Rather than do anything drastic to starve the parasite of blood, they're just going to up their game and fix individual organs faster than the parasite can reproduce and reinfect them.

Strike 2/6.

Off to a bad start with the game-upping- and you can only spend Luck after the roll if you take a Karma, too. Which they do- taking it to a mixed success. They repair the liver and kidneys, which act as a filter on the blood, keeping it clean while accelerating the liver and kidneys' reinfection rate. But it takes some extra time... and I use that Karma against them immediately.

Gelly drops a vampiric mind-whammy on her girlfriend, and all of a sudden there's a combat in the middle of this delicate surgery. Oliver thinks fast and neutralizes her immediately, restraining her with a glob of invisible pneumantic glue. Dall's freaking out, but they're able to continue. Looseleaf's next target- to prevent any further vampiric domination- is the brain, and luckily this time she nails it.

Gelly falls unconscious, and they move on to the digestive tract, which is a major contributor to the metabolism and reinfection of the blood. It's a mixed failure- she slows the reinfection rate, but that's still Strike 3/6.

Trying again, with a crit on the die, she figures out how to tell the organs as a whole to at least stop eating, while successfully fixing the digestive system. Reinfection has stopped, and Gelly's temporarily stable- but there's still a lot of work to do, and time to screw it up.

Next, she goes for the heart and lungs, trying to complete the purification of the circulatory system. A mixed success means she accidentally stops the heart briefly, Strike 4/6- but Karou's able to stretch and restart it, making the procedure a success. What's left?

The bones, and bone marrow. Again, a threat to the blood, and this one pretty hardy.

She can't seem to get this stuff out of the bones- it's stuck in there too tight, the blood vessels into the bones too narrow for the parasite to pass through quickly even if it's trying to leave. Strike 5/6.

No more time to fuck around! The whole party needs to contribute!

They get to work- Oliver tries and fails to construct a scalpel out of pneuma, so Saelhen gets to work with her trusty knives. With an astounding 20/19 critical success, she's able to make clear, precise incisions, and Zzaiya doesn't even have to roll to open holes with her thermomantic laser. They're able to clean the bones out, no problem.

Only problem is... they just opened a bunch of holes in her and laser-drilled a bunch of holes in her bones. Karou needs to stretch again, taking them to Strike 6/6. Saralee Sweethoney is at her limit- but they're close to the finish line, and...

Well, I said there were six strikes, but there were actually seven. Sam Sweethoney might not be very experiences, but he is a cleric of Karou, too, with exactly one additional charge of healing insurance left, and he's just outside!

With two Karous on the scene, pushing themselves to the absolute limit, Looseleaf manages a final success.

Bones seal up, incisions close, and muscles re-knit as Karou repairs the remainder of the damage. You manage to force out all the vampire gunk, and Gelly… is breathing. You've done it.

Whew! That came right down to the wire! But the operation is complete, and the party's earned a considerable chunk of change from Dall.

...but before Karou leaves entirely, he has something a little ominous to say.

...Huh. That's... probably fine.

Next time: the party has some long-overdue talks with each other, learns about this "Iron Section" incident that vampirized Gelly in the first place, and starts making preparations to look into the situation with Dead Jane.

[strawberryniceblock]

just thinking about what a day that must have been for tracker. you've been working for months on end to get your religious revival movement off the ground and its going great. your new gf is helping finance and your following is growing steadily. you do a very public miracle and things are looking up for your movement.

then one day your ex turns up with her crew, says she accidentally killed her god (again) and is just passing through. your new gf is kind enough to take your ex and her crew on a little tour of the place despite the awkwardness of it. during this tour you come around and think your ex and her friends are disrespecting one of your religious relics but before you can stop them they accidentally summon a dead god. pure chaos ensues where you and your gf are thrown and injured, multiple divinities are interfering, and your ex and her crew just...fuck off into a briefcase??? you are left in a collapsing world to pray for survival

[belle-of-a-time]

A list of pretty good actually teen/YA supernatural shows that I have personally seen and think are not That bad.

If I think of more I’ll add them to the list.

Pretty Please give me Campy Supernatural recommendations.

Zombies (I’m actually terrified of zombies so a lot are too scary for me)

Z nation (very campy the middle seasons are my favorite)

iZombie (only the first season)

Vampires (i wanted to be one when I was ten)

The vampire diaries (i don’t really recommend ALL of TVD it gets super frustratingly boring for me at least)

The Originals (the edgier spin off I did not like it but it’s worth mentioning)

Legacies (the only one of the three I actually recommend wholeheartedly. It’s campy it’s stupid and it’s fun also there’s a musical episode!)

My babysitter is a vampire (absolute classic but not as classic as-)

Buffy the vampire slayer (it had an awkward implied sex scene that made me laugh also has a musical episode)

What we do in the shadows (older skewed but absolutely hilarious)

True blood (be warned if you haven’t seen it. Confederate vampires abound 🤢, other than that though it’s pretty alright)

Werewolves (give me recommendations please)

Wolf Blood (absolute favorite of all time,its on Amazon prime and peacock and I Highly recommend)

Teen wolf (classic)

TVD and it’s spin-offs also count but If you want Werewolf content The Originals is probably your best bet tbh

Wolf pack (buffy cameo in the first episode, im hooked)

Miscellaneous (witches, ghosts, otherwise spooky)

Wednesday

Julie and the phantoms (girl accidentally summons ghosts by playing an old cd in her garage. Drama ensues. every episode has at least one song)

Binny and the ghost ( girl meets ghost boy and they fall in love, very cute. German Disney channel, is not on Disney plus the only way I know to watch it is piracy)

H2O: just add water (mermaids… need i say more)

Cursed (Arthurian but with a twist)

The imperfects (a group of 20somethings underwent experimental treatment for a condition that eventually causes them to develop supernatural powers that turn them into “monsters” lovingly called a “coming of rage” by its fans)

Dirk gently’s holistic detective agency (Elijah wood and Samuel Barnett are very lucky at solving crimes. Contains my poor meow meow Bart (love her) and also my girl crush Amanda. It’s weird and campy and I wish it had gotten more seasons)

The Witcher (I really liked season one and two!)

Charmed (the original AND the reboot are both very fun, it’s about witches)

Once upon a time (long and not paced very well but it’s fun at times, I had a crush on Peter Pan when I was a kid and his season is the best so there’s that.)

The 100 (Technically sci-fi but I’ve heard it gets supernatural at some point so when I get there I’ll probably move it, it’s kinda stupid but it’s campy and FULL absolutely brimming with hot men and lesbians and it Still got probably too many seasons)

Dead Boy Detectives (if you can’t tell I like mystery shows. GHOSTS! Ghost boys solve mysteries with their psychic friend! Has a lot of queer rep and tbh I think it’s handled better than a lot of stuff recently Especially Edwin, Jenny was a little less so but i did love that there were No homophobes I mean a few were implied but they don’t get any platform. VERY cute and very emotional at times I would rank it up there with The Imperfects as one of my Favorite modern supernatural shows. It’s a Netflix original as well so its chances of getting a second season are low but I adored it, it’s set up for at least one more season but you know how Netflix is.)

[overx]

▶▶️ one Dirge pls, or Raziel! up to u

send “▶▶️” to get a glimpse at a scene from my muse’s future. send “◀️◀️” to get a glimpse at a memory from my muse’s past.

How can I say no?

A smile at the recollection, at Vesper's excited question, and the awkward backtracking that ensued. Insisting it didn't have to be done, but such an earnest request... he'd probably been even more enthusiastic than the Necromancer by the end.

You're trusting me with your first tattoo Vesper! Of course I'll do it. Knowing the sentiment behind it only made him all the more determined. So many unspoken feelings, a bond distilled down to abstract patterning on skin. A secret they'd share, until the right time.

Raz flips through his sketchbook, pages already filled with ink. So many small designs in the last few days, but none of them felt quite right.

Drawing had always been an intuitive process for Raziel, he felt out each piece. Meditated to the scratching of pen on paper. Somewhere in the whitespace, he'd find the inspiration, each blank place a possibility.

In that way, art and magic are the same. Unintentional creations that flowed haphazardly from his hands, that became real without vision.

Maybe this one... The shape closes on the page, just sketchy enough not to act like a real circle.

...or.... so he'd hoped. The glow of magic is unmistakable, each stroke of his hand tying together the unseen around him. Weaving a spell whether he meant to or not.

There's familiar white fur suddenly behind his book, the room noticeably colder.

"...oops." He glances up, a lopsided smile at the Winter deity inadvertently summoned here. "I didn't mean to do that, sorry Mor." Not that it'd been the first time... but his partner is more bemused than upset.

...I guess that means it works. Hopefully Vesper and Volt will like it too.