#(for ryn mention lol)

[rynwrites4fun]

Eyes On Me | Jack Abbot x Popstar ! Reader

Jack Abbot x f!Popstar !  Reader

Summary: You’re a breakout popstar on your first headlining tour. Fame hit fast—sold-out shows, screaming fans, and nonstop momentum. But behind the scenes, it’s overwhelming. You’re struggling to keep up with the pressure and pace. After collapsing backstage after a show in Pittsburg, you’re rushed to the ER—where you meet Dr. Jack Abbott.

Word Count: 6491

Warning: Age Gap (mid 20’s/late 40’s or early 50’s,) Mentions of mental health struggles discussions of suicidal thoughts/behavior

Author's Notes: Hi I’m ryn. Honestly this fanfic was is for myself LOL. Jack Abbot x Popstar ! Reader has been circling in my brain for the last 3 days and I just had to brain dump a story. Sorry for any grammatical errors and/or inaccuracies and unrealistic aspects. Like I said brain dump I just needed to get this out of my head before I went crazy. This is just for fun. Okay, enjoy.

Pittsburgh—night 22 of 36 shows on your tour across North America, all crammed into two relentless months. 

Your career had skyrocketed overnight. One day, you dropped your first single, Hands and the next, your song was all over the radio. Suddenly, you were doing live performances on late-night shows, Hollywood events, and festivals, posing for magazine covers, releasing your debut album Sultry, and now headlining your first tour. 

Performing and creating music was everything you ever wanted, but it came at a cost. You’ve been silently struggling for a while now. The pace, the preassure, expectations, the sheer magnitude of it all were starting to wear down—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You just wished you could hit pause. Slow it all down. Everything was happening so fast. You were trying to figure out how to process it all. And beneath all that, you felt incredibly lonely. 

You were exhausted, but you kept going anyway. You had to. People depended on you, your fans, your team, the crew, your label. You didn’t want to let anyone down, so you pushed through, running on fumes, but after tonight's show, it finally caught up to you. Once the curtains closed and your adrenaline wore off, you collapsed. 

—-

11:25 pm Dr. Jack Abbot reads on the computer at the ER’s Central station. His shift had started three hours ago, and so far, it had been uneventful. A few drunkards in a bar fight, some run-of-the-mill illnesses, the occasional kitchen mishap—nothing out of the ordinary. The night was still young. 

“We got the bus coming from PGG Paints Arena. ETA 5 minutes” a nurse calls out. 

“Heard!” Jack shouts as he types. 

“Oh skin to skin, your touch feels like a sin- I want you can’t you see, I need your hands all over me…” Doctor John Shen sang under his breath a high pitch voice as he picked up a clipboard off the central counter and scans through it. 

John continued to mumble words. Jack raised an eyebrow, glancing up from the report he was typing up to look at his fellow attending.

John could feel Jack's eyes and looked up at him. John shrugs “Hey, Hands is a catchy song…gulity pleasure” he said, unbothered by being caught singing something vaguely suggestive. Jack didn’t ask—he just assumed it was some pop song.

“Never heard of it…” 

John was shocked. “You’re kidding! You never heard of Hands?” It’s all over the radio- pretty sure it's ranked at number 3 on Billboard Hot 100.” 

Jack sighs, “I don’t listen to the radio, or pop music for that matter, Shen” 

“Right, you listen to a police scanner in your free time like you’re-” John drops his voice into a gravelly imitation and makes a grump face “Batman”

Jack rolls his eyes, continuing to type.

“Honestly, if nightshift were a superheros you’d definitely be Batman- you know, you finding comfort in the dark and all-” John was a talker, already veering into one of his usual tangents. 

“Anyway, the singer of Hands, biggest Popstar in the world right now- she had a concert tonight at the area- she’s sold out 36 shows across North America– impressive honestly–”

Jack was only half-listening—actually, not even that. He hummed and nodded anyway, pretending he was following along. Jack usually zoned out when John was on his tangents when it was something not related to work. 

 “You should listen to her stuff, it’s actually really good! Her album Sultry—I’ve been playing it on my way to work some nights. For a debut album, it’s pretty solid. Bop after bop, banger after banger—”

“Don’t you have patients to attend to, Shen?” Jack cut in, needing him to stop yapping.

Jack looks over his shoulder, his attention drawn to sudden commotion in the ambulance bay behind him. Muffled noise, shouting, screaming, and strobe of camera flashes lit up the glass of the automatic doors. The chaos was visible—but just barely contained.

“What the hell is going on?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he fully turned around, and straightened himself from hunching over one of the computer monitors.

“The bus just pulled up,” John says

“Yeah, but-”

Before Jack could take a step or say anything more, the automatic bay doors slid open. The muffled noise from outside crashed into the ER like a wave.

The paramedics burst through, wheeling in the gurney. The head of the gurney was propped at an angle. 

“Well I be damned, it's her” John said casually, like Jack was supposed to know exactly who she was.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over John “Who?” 

John shot Jack an annoyed You weren’t listening look and said your name. “Only the biggest popstars in the world right now—ring any bells? The whole conversation we just had- came on, old man, weren’t you listening?” 

From where Jack stood, he could see a young woman—you—trembling, your breaths shallow and rapid.

Your hair was disheveled, makeup smudged and streaked. A bomber jacket draped loosely over your shoulders. But beneath it, he caught a flash of purple sparkles—stagewear, most likely.

Beside the two paramedics wheeling you in, three people buzzed around you like bees, talking over one another, yet you looked numb. Not registering or taking anything they were saying. 

The paramedic shouted over all the noise and commotion  "Twenty-five-year-old female, syncopal episode post-performance. Now conscious and alert—”

Somehow, through the rush and chaos, your eyes managed to find Jack’s. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul—and in that moment, yours didn’t lie.

Jack didn’t see a popstar. He saw a human. A woman who looked disassociated, exhausted. Sad. Worn thin.

He’d seen that same look before—in the military, and even here, on the job. That quiet, aching kind of broken. The kind that creeps in when you’ve been running on empty for too long.

Time seemed to slow as you were wheeled past him. He was an older man, a doctor you assumed. You couldn’t look away from his dark eyes. The look in his eyes. No one had ever looked at you like that—not the way he was in that moment. Different from every glance, every stare you’d ever known. And for a moment, you thought he could see you. Really see you. The weight of it made you sit up slightly, still staring back at him.

“I got this one- South Wing, Exam Room 4 —move her!” John barked, falling in step beside the gurney as it sped past, your eye contact with Jack breaking. 

Snapping out what felt like a trance, Jack gets back to work. 

“Call for more security-” Jack snaps one of the nurses as he bolts from central, heading to the ambulance bay. The two security guards on duty were overwhelmed, struggling to control the crowd.

 “Hey! HEY! you can’t be here unless you are sick, injured, dying or are here for someone that is!” He shouts over the chaos “If not get the hell out of my ER and ambulance bay!!!” 

The commotion only grows—cameras flashing, people yelling, shoving for a better view, the frenzy thick with screams and blinding light.

More security comes to help push everyone back out, managing the crowd. Jack exhales, knowing they’ve got it under control. Without another word, he turns on his heel and makes his way back inside, the chaos fading behind him like background noise.

He was going to head to your exam room—something about you lingered. That look in your eyes. He’d seen people in pain before, but this was something different. Quieter. Deeper. And he couldn’t shake it.

He was gonna head over to your exam room, but he was cut off by another nurse.

“Doctor Abbot! Trauma Room 1—stabbing victim”

Jack glanced down the South Wing, hesitating for half a second.

“Copy that,” he said, before turning and rushing toward Trauma Room 1.

___

The exam room was loud and overcrowded. Your manager, publicist, and assistant hovered around you as a nurse tried to take your vitals and ask you basic intake questions. Doctor Shen was trying–unsuccessfully– to get your team to leave so their staff could do their job, but my manager refused. 

“It’s best if you wait outside-” The doctor states. 

Your manager protested “No!” 

“Look, we can’t do our job effectively and efficiently if-” the doctor is cut off by your manager. 

“Well your medical professionals! I’m pretty sure you can handle extra people in a room! Hello, you do surgeries and what not with more than five people in a room!”

Your chest heaved as you sat there, still listening, your breathing shallow and uneven.

“For the sake of the patient—”

“Well, the sake of my client—”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop!” You said sharply. “Mac, give them space-”

“What?” Your  manager blinked, stunned. 

“Let them do their job. I—I feel fine, like I told the paramedics,” You said quickly, forcing a shaky smile. “They just need to check me out. Once they see everything’s okay, I’ll be out of here in no time. And we’ll hit the road”

That was a lie. You didn’t feel fine. 

All these eyes on you—the world—and yet none of them truly saw you.

They couldn’t tell you were faking it. Couldn’t see how much you were silently struggling. How you really felt. Not even the people you saw every day. Part of you felt guilty for even being here—for slowing everything down, for putting yourself and your team behind schedule. Everyone was counting on you. And you were falling apart.

Your manager sighed “Alright.” nodded in agreement, and the rest of your team quietly made their way out of your exam room and directed to the family room. 

You let out a sigh.

“Sorry about them, I didn't mean to cause any trouble.” You apologized to Doctor Shen and the Nurse as they began to check my vitals. 

“Don’t sweat it. It’s fine—comes with the territory in the ER. Your team’s not the first to argue with us, and they’re definitely not the worst.” 

You let out a breath, nodding faintly.

“Still… I hate that it got like that.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. What we should be focusing on is you. Is it okay if we go over a few questions?”

Doctor Shen and the nurse continued their routine—asking questions, checking my vitals. I answered them all, but inside, I felt numb. Like I was moving through it on autopilot.

When they finally left, the silence swallowed everything.

You later there for god knows how long. Curled up on your side, motionless.

Your boots were scattered nearby, forgotten. The tights clung to me like a second skin, and the purple sparkle bodysuit caught the fluorescent lights—still shimmering like it belonged on a stage, not under a hospital ceiling.

But you kept it all in. You didn't let yourself break. Even though you wanted to. Desperately. Ypu wanted to scream. To beg someone to just see me. To understand. To notice what youwere holding together by threads.

You needed somewhere to go. Anywhere but these walls.

You slid off the exam bed, my boots still on the floor, untouched. You didn’t bother putting them back on. You didn’t need to. Out in the ER, the chaos buzzed around me—everyone seemed preoccupied, moving in their own world. But none of that mattered. You didn’t stop.

As you quickly searched for an escape, anything to get away, I finally found the stairs. Floor after floor, my body moved on autopilot, pulled by some quiet instinct—a need for silence. For up.

The rooftop door wasn’t even locked.

And suddenly, there you were —standing beneath the open night sky, the wind pulling at my hair, the city lights stretching out below me like a pulse, faint but steady.

___

Jack peeled off his gloves and paper gown, tossing them into the overstuffed disposal bin without a second glance. His safety glasses came off next, dropped into a tray with a soft clatter.

The stabbing victim had finally been stabilized—barely. They’d coded multiple times on the table, the blood loss severe, the damage extensive. It had been a fight, but for now, they had a pulse.

Jack made his way to the center of the ER, eyes lifting to the patient triage board glowing on the monitors above the central station. He stood there for a moment, just staring—taking it all in, processing the chaos the way only someone used to it could.

John approached quietly, coming to stand beside him. For a moment, neither of them spoke—just two physicians staring up at the ever-shifting list of names, numbers, and needs blinking across the screen.

“Rough night,” John finally said, his voice low, more of a statement than a question.

Jack didn’t look away. “When isn’t it?”

Jack’s eyes stayed on the board, but his mind drifted.

The popstar.

He didn’t even need to say her name—she was already burned into the back of his mind. The look in her eyes when they brought her in.

“How’s she doing?” he asked finally, still staring ahead.

John followed his gaze for a beat, then glanced at the chart in her hand.

“Vitals stabilized. Labs were all over the place when she came in—dehydration, low electrolytes, stress markers through the roof. But mostly?” She paused. “She’s just exhausted. Like, bone-deep. Extreme fatigue. Burnout, plain and simple.”

Jack finally turned to face him.

“Does she say anything?”

John shook her head. “Not much. I didn't need to. You could see it all over her.”

Jack nodded slowly, jaw tightening just slightly.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “You could see it the second she walked in… or was wheeled in.”

He leaned on the edge of the counter, eyes distant now, somewhere far above the triage board. “It wasn’t just physical. It was in her eyes. Like she’d been running on fumes for a long time, and this was the moment her body finally said ‘no more.’”

John studied him for a moment. “You connected with her.”

Jack didn’t answer right away. He just let out a quiet breath through his nose, staring at the board, but not really seeing it anymore.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve seen it before,” he said quietly. “That look. The kind of exhaustion that doesn’t show up in lab results. The kind that runs deeper than what anyone can measure. You can tell when someone’s been running on empty for too long... and their body just finally gives out.”

John says “She still has 14 more shows left. With the pace she’s been going, I honestly don’t know how she’s made it this far.”

A flash of purple caught their attention.

Jack’s eyes snapped to the hallway just in time to see you slip from your room—glittering tights and a purple sparkle jumpsuit, unmistakable even in the dim hospital light. You moved quickly, your bare feet barely making a sound against the cold tile, as though you were trying to be unnoticed, trying to outrun something—or maybe trying to find something.

John caught the movement too, his gaze following you down the hall. “I bet she’s headed to the roof,” he muttered, voice low, tinged with understanding.

Jack’s eyes stayed fixed on you, his jaw tightening.

Jack didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened as he watched you slip through the door at the end of the hall, already heading for the stairs.

John frowned, glancing at Jack. “You think she’s gonna be alright up there?”

Jack didn’t answer immediately. He just stared after you, his mind racing. There was something about the way you moved—like you were running, but didn’t know where you were running to. It made something shift in him.

“People like her… people like us, sometimes,” Jack began, his voice quieter, “they forget they don’t always have to do it alone. That there are moments where it’s okay to stop pretending.”

John didn’t push, but there was a silent understanding between them.

Jack was already moving toward the stairwell, his steps purposeful now. "I’ll check on her."

Jack follows your path, climbing up several flights of stairs to get to the roof

When he finally reached the rooftop, the door creaked open softly, the cool night air greeting him as he stepped out onto the open space. His eyes immediately found you on the other side of the railing, standing still, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself like you were trying to hold together everything that felt like it might break.

You were staring out into the distance, as if the city lights could somehow offer you the answers you were looking for. 

___

“Hey,” he says, his voice low but steady.

You let out yelp, startled by the sudden voice. You hadn’t expected anyone else up here. Your hands instinctively grab the railing behind you, gripping it tightly for support. There was still a sliver of space between you and the edge, but your heart was already racing.

 “Whoa, whoa—careful now,” says quickly, a hoodie draped over his arm. His hands rise in a calming gesture, fanning out as if to steady you.

You glance over your shoulder, blinking in disbelief. It’s him—the man you locked eyes with earlier across the chaos. Tall, calm, dressed in black scrubs that cling to his frame like a shadow. His salt-and-pepper curls are tousled just enough to soften the sharpness of the stubble along his jaw.

“I’m Doctor Abbot,” he continues, stepping closer but keeping his distance. 

“I didn’t come up here to jump—” you say defensively. 

“I’ve heard that one before.”

“No, really—I’m serious. I just—” You hesitated, your eyes drifting away.

It wasn’t a total lie. The thought had crossed your mind once or twice before—on different nights, in different places—This wasn’t that.

You just needed space. A moment to think, to breathe. 

“Hey…” he says softly. “I get it. I head up here to get away from everything down there.”

He nods toward where you’re standing. “That spot? It’s usually mine.”

You glance at him, surprised.

“I’ve seen enough chaos for ten lifetimes,” he adds with a faint smile. “Up here’s the only place where no one’s life is on the line or yelling at me.” His voice carries a dry edge—half joke, half truth.

He steps closer to the railing.

“Do you mind?” he asks, gesturing to the space beside you, silently asking for permission.

You give him a quick glance, and he understands—it’s okay. He ducks under the railing and steps up beside you, settling in quietly.

He lowers himself to the ground, knees drawn to his chest, arms resting loosely on top. His back leans against the railing with a quiet familiarity. After a moment, you follow suit, settling beside him, sitting cross-legged in the hush of the night.

A silence falls between us as we look at the city skyline. 

“I come up here when I need to feel like a person again. Not a doctor. Not the guy who’s supposed to keep it all together. Just… me.”

He lets out a slow breath. “There are nights—some harder than others—where the thought crosses my mind. Of just… stepping off. Letting go.” 

He pauses “But something always stops me. Reminds me why I stay.”

He glances at you, voice quieter now.

“It’s the need to help people. To connect. Even when it’s messy… even when it hurts. It’s what keeps me tethered. It’s what drives me. It’s in my DNA”

Jack hadn’t shared that part of himself because he was looking for comfort. He shared it because he saw something in you—something he couldn’t ignore.

He couldn’t shake the look in your eyes from earlier, when they wheeled you in. That numb, exhausted sadness. The silent plea buried deep in your gaze. A quiet scream for someone—anyone—to really see you.

You were young—early twenties, maybe. A pop star. To the world, you probably seemed untouchable. Perfect. Living the kind of life most people only dream of.

But up close, all Jack saw was someone unraveling. Someone barely holding on. And he’d seen enough to know that pain doesn’t care who you are, how famous you are, or how bright the spotlight is.

And he couldn’t imagine what it must be like.

To be seen by the eyes of everyone… but never really seen.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… this is where I come to stop pretending. So… no pretending. You don’t need to be anything up here, okay? I see you.”

My head snaps up at his words. “W-what?” your eyes widened, caught off guard.

“I said… I see you,” he repeats, voice steady, eyes locked on mine with quiet intensity.

Something in you breaks. Your lips start to tremble, and then the tears come—uncontrollable, unstoppable. You start to sob, the weight of everything finally cracking open.

This man—this stranger—was the first person to really look past the surface. To notice the pain you’d been drowning in. To see you, not the version of you the world demands.

And in that moment, you realize how long you’ve been waiting for someone to do exactly that.

Without a word, he takes the hoodie he’s been holding and gently drapes it over your bare shoulders, shielding you from the cool night air. The fabric is warm, worn, and smells faintly of him—clean soap and something grounding.

You lean into his side, drawn by a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure, then instinct takes over. His arm wraps around you, slow and careful, like he doesn’t want to startle you. His hand begins to rub your arm—slow, steady circles. Not to fix anything. Just to let me know you're not alone.

The sobs come in waves—raw, jagged, leaving your chest aching and my throat tight. I try to stifle them, to keep it quiet, but he doesn’t flinch. He just stays beside me, steady and still, his hand never leaving my arm.

Eventually, it passes. Not completely, but enough for you to breathe again. Your chest still hiccups with the occasional shuttered breath, 

“I—I don’t even know where to start,” You whisper, voice hoarse from crying. “I just… I’m so exhausted.”

He says nothing, but his presence says I’m here. Take your time.

“Everything happened so fast—my career, all of it. It’s like I’m on this train, expecting stops along the way… but it just keeps speeding past every one of them. No breaks. No time to breathe.”

You pause, trying to find the right words through the tightness in my chest.

“And then there’s the pressure. The expectations. People depend on me—my fans, my team, the crew, the label... all of them. I’m supposed to be the one who holds it all together.”

Your voice wavers. “But inside, I’ve been unraveling. It’s like I’m screaming, and no one hears it. Or worse—they hear it and just… don’t care.”

You glance up at him, tears clinging to my lashes, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I have everything I thought I wanted. Everything I dreamed of since I was a little girl. And I still feel empty. So lonely. Like I’m surrounded by people… but completely alone in all of it. My voice cracks on the last words. I look away, ashamed.

Jack doesn’t speak right away.

He just watches you, eyes full of something that feels a lot like understanding. His arm is still around you, steady and warm. And when he finally speaks, his voice is low. Gentle.

“I know that feeling,” he says. “Being surrounded… and still feeling like you’re the only one in the room who’s not okay.”

He exhales slowly, like the weight of my words hit something deep in him too.

“You’re not broken. You’re human. And humans aren’t built to carry everything alone—no matter how strong the world expects us to be.”

He shifts slightly so he can face me more fully, his hand still resting on my arm, grounding me.

“You’re allowed to feel lost. You’re allowed to not have it all together. And just because people look up to you doesn’t mean you owe them everything. You still deserve to be a person. To rest. To be seen.”

He pauses, taking a breath, then adds softly, “Your job is demanding, I get that. But sometimes, you have to do what’s best for you. Put yourself first, even if it means letting others down in the process. You have to take care of yourself. You have to. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it, either. Because if you don’t, you’ll find yourself on a path that’s hard to get off of.”

Thank you, Doctor Abbot.”

“Jack,” he corrects gently. “My name’s Jack.”

“Jack,” you repeat with a small smile, then introduce yourself.

He chuckles. “You know… I’m really aging myself here, but I only found out who you were a couple hours ago.” Trying to lighten the mood. 

You laugh. “Honestly? That’s kind of refreshing.”

“I don’t really keep up with pop culture,” he admits. “Dr. Shen was the one singing your earlier in our shift—what was it? Hands?”

“Oh god…” you groan, burying your face in your hands. That song was definitely suggestive. Of all the songs…

Jack grins. “What was it—‘Oh skin to skin, your touch feels like a sin… I want you, can’t you see, I need your hands all over me’?” He stumbles through the lyrics, trying to recall them.

“No, no, please don’t sing it!” you laugh, half mortified, half amused.

Jack arches a brow, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why not? It’s catchy?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Don’t encourage it.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “It’s stuck in my head now.” 

“Why don’t you sing it?” 

You lift your head, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

Jack leans back against the railing, feigning innocence. “What? Fair’s fair. I butchered it—might as well hear it from the professional.”

You stare at him, mouth open. “You want me to sing that song? Right now?”

He shrugs with a teasing glint in his eye. “You’re the one who wrote it. Own it.”

You groan again, dramatically flopping your head back. “Absolutely not.” 

He arches a brow, clearly amused. “Why because it’s…?”

You shoot him a glare, cheeks burning. “You know why.”

Jack smirks. “Nope. Enlighten me.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands for a second before peeking at him through your fingers. “Because that song is suggestive, okay? And I’m not gonna put on a whole performance for the guy I just met while sitting on the edge of a hospital rooftop.”

He grins, utterly unbothered by your embarrassment. “I mean, you might as well—you’ve got the outfit, so you’re halfway there.”

Jack shrugs, his expression playful. “It’s not every day I get to share a rooftop with a pop star. Kind of a once-in-a-lifetime moment, don’t you think?”

You come back quickly. You cross your arms, giving him a teasing look. “But hey, if you’re lucky, I might just give you a private concert… somewhere a little less public.”

You freeze for a heartbeat, flustered, but the moment passes just as quickly as it came. Jack looks out over the city again, that easy smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

His brows rise, amused, but he doesn’t say anything right away—just lets the silence stretch for a beat too long before offering a slow, teasing smile.

“Oh really?” he says lightly, head tilting. “Didn’t realize I’d stumbled into the VIP experience.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait—I didn’t mean it like that, I—” You groan, running a hand through your hair. “That came out so wrong. I swear I’m not flirting.”

Oh, but you were.

And so was he.

Somehow, without meaning to, the two of you had tangled yourselves into this strange, electric mess. One minute you were unpacking the weight of everything you’d buried inside, the next, you were tossing playful banter back and forth like it was the most natural thing in the world. Somewhere between the quiet confessions and the shared silence, something shifted. Neither of you planned for it, neither of you were sure what to call it—but whatever this was, it felt real. Unexpected, but real.

Jack knew this was unprofessional—wildly unprofessional. He knew better. He should have known better. She was a patient—vulnerable, barely holding herself together just hours ago and years younger. The kind of line he’d never imagined crossing. Every rule in the book told him to step back, to keep the boundary clear and intact.

He told himself it was harmless. Just words, just a moment. He told himself it was just a moment. Just a conversation. But even he knew that was a lie. Jack knew it was more. This wasn’t about flirting. It was about connection—messy, imperfect, unexpected connection—and despite everything telling him to walk away, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Not yet. 

Jack chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state.

“Oh great—now you’ve seen me at my absolute worst and my most embarrassing.”

You groan, pressing your palms to your face. “I swear, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, I know what you meant,” he says with mock seriousness, nodding slowly. “A pop star tries to seduce a jaded ER doctor with a rooftop concert. Very scandalous. Very tabloid-friendly.”

You peek at him through your fingers, trying not to laugh. “Stop.”

You shake your head, laughing despite yourself. “This is humiliating.”

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm with a lopsided grin. “If anything, I should be flattered. First time I’ve ever flirted with a pop star on a rooftop.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” you insist, a little defensive.

“Keep telling yourself that,”

Silence falls between you two again. 

Jack looks at his watch. 1:13 am

“We should probably head back down,” Jack says, standing up and using the railing to steady himself. 

“Right…”He ducks under the bars, making his way back to the safe side.

You follow suit, and he extends his hand toward you, offering support as you step back over to the safer side. You take his hand, steadying yourself as you make the move.

___

None of you speak as you head back down to the main floor of the ER. The silence hangs between you as Jack walks you back to your exam room, his footsteps steady and measured.

Once inside, Jack’s gaze softens, his expression shifting to something more serious. “The tests came back, and it’s clear you’re dealing with extreme fatigue and exhaustion,” he says, his voice calm but insistent. “Your body’s been running on empty for too long, and it’s starting to take its toll.”

He pauses for a moment, letting his words settle before continuing. “I’m recommending that you take some time off, but I also think it’s crucial that you talk to someone—a therapist. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s important to get the support you need to process everything properly.”

Jack looks at you with genuine concern. “We’ll discharge you soon, but I want to make sure your team knows what’s going on. I’ll have a word with them so they understand the need for you to take a step back for a while. You need the time to focus on yourself and heal.”

He pauses again, reaching into his pocket. “I’m also going to write down some resources for you—therapists and support groups, people who can help you through this. I want you to have everything you need to get better, okay?”

“Thank you,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of everything finally starting to settle.

Jack gives you a small nod, his expression softening. “The nurse will come back soon to hook you up to an IV to rehydrate. Rest as much as you can.” He pauses for a moment before adding, 

“I’ll come in a check up you soon”

With a final glance, he turns and leaves, the door clicking softly behind him. The room feels quieter now, but in a way, the silence feels less heavy—like a small sense of relief has finally started to creep in.

___

6:30am Day shift would be coming soon to relieve the night shift. 

You’d stayed in the ER throughout the night. Your team stayed with you too—quiet, worried, but present. When you woke up, you finally opened up to your manager. You told him everything—how you’d been feeling, how long it had been building, how it all finally broke.

He listened. Really listened.

And when you were done, he looked at you—genuinely shaken. “I had no idea you were carrying all that,” he said, his voice low with guilt. “I’m so sorry. You should’ve never felt like you had to keep this to yourself.”

He reassured you that things would change. That they’d meet with the label, reevaluate everything. “If we have to cancel the rest of the tour, so be it,” he said firmly. “You—your well-being—that’s what matters now. Nothing else is more important.”

___

“Alright you’re all set” Doctor Shen says, officially releasing you from the hospital. 

I was still in my stage outfit, my boots in hand, and wearing Jack’s hoodie.

“Thanks, Doctor Shen,” you say, grateful as you start to turn.

“Wait!” he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks. “Before you go, do you think I could get your autograph?”

You pause, surprised, then smile. “Yeah, of course,” you say, walking back over with a light laugh. It’s a small, sweet moment, something you didn’t expect, but somehow felt right—maybe even grounding in its own way. You take a moment to sign, your pen moving across the paper as you look up at him with a warm smile.

“Thanks for everything,” you add, handing it back to him.

You see Jack, approaching. 

“Would you like an autograph too?” I joke 

“Wow I really downgraded there. What happened to my VIP Experience? My private show?”

“You’re still on about that?” 

Jack laughs, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, I had big expectations for this VIP experience. Autographs? Really?” He sighs dramatically, pretending to be disappointed.

“Raincheck on the VIP experience?”

He nods, chuckling softly. “Alright, I’ll hold you to it” 

“So…what are your plans now?” He asks. 

You glance behind your shoulder, catching sight of Mac pacing on the phone, waiting for you by the automatic doors of the ambulance bay. “Uh, headed back home actually. Mac, my manager, is talking to the rest of the team and my label about me canceling the rest of the tour, taking care of my wellbeing,” you explain.

“That’s great to hear,” Jack says, his tone soft, genuine.

Silence falls between you two, an awkward pause that neither of you knows how to fill. You both understand, without saying it, that this is probably the first and last time you’d be seeing each other.

You shift your weight, unsure of what to say next, and Jack clears his throat, glancing down at the ground for a moment before meeting your eyes one last time. “Take care of yourself, alright?” he says, his voice sincere.

You give a small nod, managing a quiet, “You too.”

Jack steps back, his hands in his pockets, his expression still thoughtful. “I meant what I said earlier… about getting the help you need. It’s important.” His words hang in the air between you, as if he’s trying to convey something deeper, something he might not have the chance to say again.

You nod, the weight of the moment settling in. “I will,” you reply softly, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been through start to press against you again. 

You start to walk towards the automatic doors, the hallway stretching ahead, but you stop. You can still feel Jack’s eyes on me, pulling me back. You turn around, your feet moving almost without thinking, and walk back to him.

He looks up at you, confused by your sudden change, but before he can say anything, you drop your boots on the floor and fling your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. You hold him for a moment, feeling the warmth of his embrace, his hands finding your waist and wrapping his arms under his hoodie that you’re wearing.

“I didn’t think anyone could see me,” you murmur, your voice soft and vulnerable. “But somehow, you did. All these eyes on me, yet you’re the one who truly sees.” You hold him tighter. “Thank you… for seeing me. For truly seeing me.”

Before you pull away, you press a soft kiss to his cheek, a gentle gesture that lingers for just a second longer than expected. You let go, picking up your boots, and walk toward the automatic doors.

You take one last glance back, giving him a small wave, and for a fleeting moment, you catch his gaze. But then, you turn away, making your way out, leaving the hospital and the weight of everything behind you. I won't look back again.

___

Doctor Michael Robinavitch, 30 minutes early for his day’s shift, strolled beside Jack with a coffee cup in hand. He noticed the young woman in a shiny outfit, wearing Jack's hoodie. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Jack's cheek before pulling away. Leaving the ER with her boots in hand. She shot Jack a final look, a wave and then disappeared out of the automatic doors.

Jack stood there, still in a bit of a daze. He hadn’t noticed Michael approaching. He could still feel the warmth of her kiss on his cheek, the feeling lingering far longer than it should have.

Michael finally broke the silence, glancing at Jack. “She took your hoodie.”

Jack blinked, coming back to himself, and then offered a small smile. “I know,” he said, his voice a little distant.

Michael raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, guess that’s one way to make a lasting impression.”

Jack chuckled, a soft, almost wistful sound. He rubbed his cheek absently, still feeling the imprint of her kiss. “Yeah… guess so.”

Michael leaned against the counter, watching his friend with a knowing look. “You’re still thinking about it, huh?”

Jack met his gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Maybe.”

A quiet moment passed between them. Jack knew, deep down, he’d probably never see her again. She was a pop star, and he was just another ER doctor. Their worlds were too different. But still, there was something about that moment—that made him hope he’d be wrong.

“I hope I do,” Jack muttered, almost to himself.

Michael looked at him, the playful edge gone from his voice. “Yeah. I can see that.”

Jack didn’t say anything else, his mind still caught up in the strange, fleeting connection. He wasn’t sure if it would ever turn into anything more, but for now, the memory of her was enough.

(another part??? let me know)

[sightsobscured]

Of course, Ryn. You’re very useful.

[An unlocked phone was left on a nearby table. It's Ryn's. The call app is opened.]

[ He tilted his head slightly, confused on why it was just unlocked. He grabs it and takes a look at what’s on the screen. ]

[celestialmantdonna]

a song that reminds you of your muse's vibes, a song used for writing your muse, a song that your muse would sing and dance to, a theme song for your muse

Song Associations

Oh, these are really good ones! Thank you!

🎼 A song that reminds me of my muse’s vibes

Gregory and the Hawk - Boats & Birds

A very sweet, gentle song. Also, the mention of stars, the sky, and other galaxies. The song is about wanting your loved ones to shine, to be as happy as they can be, about doing everything in your power to make sure they are happy. About accepting that you and your loved ones might go your separate ways, but you will always remember them. This is Mantis. She just loves her chosen family so much.

🎧 A song used for writing my muse

I have... SO MANY, omg. But usually, songs that are instrumentals. Here are some examples:

Jóhann Jóhannsson - The Theory of Everything

Jóhann Jóhannsson - A Brief History of Time

Dustin O'Halloran - Fragile N.4

John Murphy - Mantis Reveals Her Secret

🎆 A song my muse would sing or dance to

Bruce Springsteen - Dancing In the Dark

Mantis likes Bruce Springsteen and this is just a really good song! Mantis loves dancing and singing along to it, she has so much fun.

✨ A theme song for my muse

Ryn Weaver - New Constellations

Mantis is a child of the cosmos in the most literal sense of the word. This song builds an amazing atmosphere, comparing humanity's discovery of the stars to one's own curiosity and desire to know and learn and understand. But I have MANYYY theme songs for Mantis, lol.

[queen-scribbles]

3, 6 & 15 from the fanfic asks!

3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?

Pillars of Eternity though I may just be biased bc that's where Rhi(haledamage) and I became besties <3 Wrath of the Righteous and KotOR/SWtOR are both great, too, but my personal best experience and involvement has been with Pillars.

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

hahahah *cracks knuckles* depending on how you define involved...

Trinne Amell/Harvey Cousland (Dragon Age) ∙ Shenko* & Cam/Liam (Mass Effect/ME:A) ∙ Vikkari/Arueshalae(WotR) ∙ Jas/Tristian(PfKm) ∙ Tavi/Aloth(Pillars of Eternity) [Edér/Charity is a close runner up tho] ∙ AJ/Nate(tWC) ∙ can't pick between my SWtOR ships or Andromeda 6 couples∙ Revanasi(KotOR) ∙ Evony/Bao-Dur is canon in my heart(KotOR 2) ∙ Ves/Kurt(Greedfall) ∙ Ryn/Red or Trick/Trouble (ShoH) ∙ Meneldir/survival happiness(LOTRO) ∙honorable mention to Perc'ahlia bc that not from a game I played, but I was/am at least on the fringes of CR fandom and they are GOALS for an OTP

*I have two Shepards I ship equally with Kaidan, thus the generic ship name instead of specifics. xD (any fandoms not listed here were not forgotten, I just don't think I was "involved" enough in the fandom for them to count)

15. Is there an obscure ship which you love?

lol bless you for this one. DA:O era Jowan/Leliana. It only works in Origins bc Leliana goes through enough character evolution by DA:I they wouldn't mesh the same anymore imo, but their character arcs/story involvement have some similar themes(betrayal of trust, redemption, questioning if they're a good person etc) that I think would have been really neat to explore if BioWare hadn't cut recruiting Jowan

Fanfic Asks

[thepeculiarbird]

WIP questionnaire

Thanks @kaylinalexanderbooks

Rules: answer as few or as many as you'd like!

Tag : @raiden-makoto @sarandipitywrites @jaelink @aalinaaaaaa @lyutenw @buffythevampirelover @nettleandthorne @finxi-writes @arwenschepers @corruptedbread @whimsical-blood-fairy @unrepentantcheeseaddict @kidukami @ryns-ramblings @rowenas-my-fave-child @mysticstarlightduck

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

I'm not sure how i'm supposed to answer but by the person who tagged me answers, I think mine is the characters but only Madhi and Noe (Dan being a random pilot with no name back in 2019)

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

I obviously love my main characters because I've wrote about them for so long and they're just the best. For the less important mcs, my fav would be Devyn because she's a really interesting character. She's so silly but at the same time she's going to have an important role later in the serie and I'm really excited to write about it.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

It's briefly mentionned once or twice but Dan and Alec have a cat, her name is Cloud because she's white/grey and looks like a cloud!

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

The last chapter of Draft 1, I'm not stuck but I'm currently busy this week and the next one so I won't work on it a lot. Hope I can finish it soon tho!

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

Just cult stuff I guess.

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

Publish it lol.

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Thanks for the mention, @fire-but-ashes-too!

I'm responding a little late, but better late than never lol.

I can't believe that it's almost the end of 2023… I've only been on here since March this year, and it's already been the most amazing journey. I know that's a super cliche thing for me to say, but it's really true!

I want to thank everybody for being so welcoming and kind <3

I am so grateful to every single one of you…

@exquisitecrow, @urbliscom, @lana36558, @the-art-of-busy-nothings, @saviournelwinter, @rosieerose, @heathersaddict, @waywardwizzard, @jessicawestonauthor, @gummybugg, @beginning-of-wisdom, @thelavenderwriter, @dragonedged-if, @yourlocalcryptidinthewoods, @practicecourts, @winterandwords,

@theunboundwriter, @falesiacats, @jojomills, @author-a-holmes, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @lovely-ashes09, @blackrosesandwhump, @lepotatingshep, @mousedetective, @toribookworm22, @thewardenofwinter, @koka1967, @lyutenw, @autumnalwalker, @scorpiolight, @originaltalecreator,

@ryns-ramblings, @soph1333, @amrago, @mysticstarlightduck,

I feel like that's way too many lol. But what can you do.

2023 is coming to an end so this is my annual I love my online friends so fucking much you wouldn't believe me if I told you post.

[someplace-that-is-else]

FINALLY!!!! lol. GOOD AFTERNOON, LIKERS.

FINALLY... #that sums up the last few hours for me. I thought Monday was bad with the amount of #internetconnection issues that I've had. Nope. Tuesday has already taken the cake given how long I've been waiting for a connection. Good music though. Thank you, #djsasha.

This week in the world of #reallife was not looking very rosy. In fact, it was pushing slowly, but surely pass the point of frustration. But when I was given the call to an unexpected off day today...part of me was excited. After all, it gave me a #chance to get caught up on things. While my #spideysense have been screaming this was going to be one of THOSE weeks...I like to call them PAM (from #trueblood) week...I also felt it was going to be a good forward momentum kind of a week.

So far...intuition was on point. But let's get into that, shall we? Time for EDITING, TYPING, and WRITING.

EDITING. Well, I've been so busy worrying about Darkened Soul: THE BREAKING OF CRICLES that I completely forgot to post the last chapter in my #serial THE RYN. I blame the chaos of last week. smh.

In any case, look for THE RYN to be posted on Wednesday as scheduled. Internet and life willing.

From there, I wanted to go and do some research. And I've finding I just can't do research at home. Too easily distracted with the research books I got. So I would love to go and sit in a coffeeshop.

However...did I mention a rainstorm is coming? smh.

Just more things to be frustrated over.

TYPING. Speaking of research, I also have some research that I needed to do if I was going to be doing a new blog. And part of that research...was #watching.

More on that at a later date.

WRITING. MMmmm...forward momentum.

I had made an outline a couple of weeks back for my #horror WiP. I thought that I might have fallen into a slump with it. Not helped by a sense of echoing in the characters. It was time to spice it up.

And it went well. I was approaching page 50. I found that while good horror has a slow burn with a sense of dread, there had to be things happening. Whether it was plot or just dynamic characters for the main character to bounce off of.

So with ideas and plans in place, it irked my mind that I...was busy. smh.

But still...my characters persisted. Whether I was battling #sdtransit or at work dealing with customers, I kept finding my mind turning to my characters. What made them tick. What would help the story push forward. How it was going to feel to get to some of what I've written in my outline.

So I've been #writing. At last. And while it was a slow start, it was flowing.

Now to get to the feeling for dread for Ben, my main character. Did I still have it in me to do horror?

That was what this week was shaping up to...

[emma-radfemcanu]

I visited my grandparents this weekend which was really nice :) but I always feel sad when I see them now because they look older every time

And of course that's just how time and aging work but I feel like it's been so much more noticeable the last few years. My grandad is 81 and is physically fairly robust tbh, it was my grandma (who is 77) where I really noticed it- she was putting out plates and her hands were so shaky, and also the way she walks although tbf she has had both a hip and knee replacement lol

When my mum was driving us home afterwards she mentioned it and I'm glad it wasn't just me who noticed. But she said about wanting to see them more often because, at the risk of sounding a bit morbid, objectively they are pretty old and you never really know what's around the corner. This is all true and it's not even the first time I've thought this, but for some reason it's upset me a lot more this time

I'll be 24 in a few weeks which is very young still, but to me that is now 'mid 20s' instead of 'early 20s' and it feels like a huge distinction even though it isn't really. And I often get upset on my birthday (and Christmas too) because I get very melancholy about time passing and you feel it more then- my other grandma and one of my aunts died a few years back and knowing that I'll never get another birthday card in almost unreadable writing 😢

So this birthday feels like a bit of a milestone and I think that's why I'm feeling it so much now. All the time I could have spent with them and didn't- or rather wasn't able to (this is a whole story in itself but genuinely is one of the biggest reasons why I'm so resentful of my father), and I can't get any of it back and there might not be much of it left. And I just feel very sad about it

(Alexa play Traveling Song by Ryn Weaver)

[captainderyn]

While I would be most enthusiastic about romancing Raenor, Ryn would be a really close second.

Raenor over here like ^^^ no but VERY good choices if I do say so myself lol 100/10 they would both have GREAT romance paths.

I mean who can say no to a handsome elf lad who wants nothing more than to write melodies and ballads about your love and support you to the very end? How beautiful that someone who has lived for hundreds of years has not become so apathetic to the world that he cannot still find wonder and beauty enough to love.

Not to mention our beloved Ryn, who will give her heart so fully to you that you’ll tell her to at least keep part of it for herself, that she cannot give herself so fully. And who makes it her mission to protect your back every step of the way and who’s unfailing loyalty is now yours so use it well ;—;

[epersonae]

from @veeagainsttheday in the comments:

1,5,8,15,24

1: Is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

Yes? Slash it depends? I love the framing of these two things as opposites, lol. It does depend a lot on the thing I'm writing and the frame of mind I'm in.

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

Mary says, in their texts, too simple or not that serious or not that much of an artist — never mind about how the sharp lines of the trees feel like the careful distance between Stede and Mary in a photo, or the way that the curves of hills glow in the painting over Mary’s desk. The sketches in their progression of images and ideas, building one to the other, so that she can’t look away. But she doesn’t know Mary well enough, doesn’t have the right words for it. 

(this is one of the bits that benefited greatly from you pushing me about interiority, so thank you)

8: How do you develop your OCs?

Oh you are just coming for me, huh? I would say over the course of my fic writing, I rarely write OCs, but there are a couple of exceptions, and one (two?) of them is a character who has been in my head for almost six months. I was talking about her with some people over the weekend, and ended up with the description "three youtube videos and an architectural digest article in a trenchcoat", also "a vibes-based creature", which is sort of the two poles -- I have influences which I am careful about balancing, and then an overall sense of how I wanted the story to go, and how she fits into that story, and the kind of person who emerges from that combination is who she is. (all of this project has been about combining characters and people and finding a balance of the resulting amalgam, how much is "real" and how much is "fictional", how much is famous people and how much is people I have known and how much is honestly just me?)

my other main OC, from my TAZ days, is the half-orc who Ryn and I referred to as "our son" Kenneth, who was initially a plot device but then he got a character that we developed together, again thinking about what the story needed and the kind of character who was going to provide this pivotal moment. (And also Ryn wrote the most lovely reflective thing from his POV right after I left my ex, and it's one of the most meaningful things I have from that experience.)

15: Which fic that you’ve written relates to you and your personal life the most?

There's a lot of me in a lot of fics I've written. The bit I mentioned with Kenneth is just one of many little things in that fic that are deeply personal about that story. "She's survived the impossible before" and "you're here, so be here" are basically how I've gotten thru the last five years. (The series it's part of also gave me my first tattoo, which Ryn and I both got together in 2019.)

There's a TAZ fic that I wrote about Lucretia briefly erasing her own memory that is uhhhhhhhhh kinda close to the bone, emotionally; likewise there's a lot of Cool Trauma Stuff in the one I wrote about the years between the creation of the Relics and Year 99.

The AU where Izzy gets yeeted before Ed gets back to the Revenge has maybe the tightest description I've written of my immediate grief experience. My post-S1 fic, unfinished, has a lot of that too. And of course the impulse I had to write Hungry for love was the feeling that I knew exactly what was up with Stede as far as how much did he understand his feelings. (None, but also yes, which is a weird thing to try to write, but it's exactly how I was with Ryn until an IRL conversation that is a spooky mirror of Stede and Mary's talk.)

New Project has maybe more of me than I would have realized when I started, and I feel oddly exposed thinking about it lol.

24: Which fic of yours do you wish people would ask about more? Why?

I never know how to answer this question! I'm excited to get asked about anything, so it's always a delightful surprise, both the deep cuts from my old TAZ writing and my WIPs!

Fic ask game

1: Is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

2: Do you focus on attention to detail when you read fics? Are you more or less attention to detail focussed when you write fics?

3: Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How far along are you with them?

4: Tell me about one of your abandoned WIPs. Why did you abandon it?

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

6: What are some topics you will never write about?

7: Were there any ideas you had for [insert fic] that you couldn’t make work? What were they?

8: How do you develop your OCs?

9: Are there any fics you’d love to see but don’t want to write yourself? What are they?

10: Who has been your favourite character to write about in [insert fic]? What do they bring to the fic?

11: Which OC of yours do you think is the most similar to you? Which OC is the most different? Why?

12: Why did you choose to write [insert fic]? How long have you been working on it?

13: Do you prefer writing multi-chapter fics or single-part fics? Do you prefer reading multi-chapter fics or single-part fics?

14: Do you think you would be friends with your OCs in [insert fic]?

15: Which fic that you’ve written relates to you and your personal life the most?

16: Do you stick to canon when you write characters and fics?

17: What has been the proudest moment for you so far since you started writing?

18: Do you feel like your work gets enough recognition? What kind of feedback do you like to receive?

19: 15 words to describe the aesthetic of [insert fic].

20: Which fic have you put the most work into? Which fic have you put the least work into?

21: If you were a character in [insert fic] where would you fit in?

22: Have you used any symbolism in [insert fic]? What does it represent?

23: What’s one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

24: Which fic of yours do you wish people would ask about more? Why?

25: If you could remove one character from [insert fic]’s universe, who would it be? Why?

[essektheylyss]

You know, with the fact that Ryn went and got herself petrified within a day of finding out just how willing the Ruby Vanguard are to fuck a wizard up, I do think that, while the bar is very low, Essek (as he is during the course of the campaign) really does deserve some credit for never ending up in such a self-imposed pickle that he needed his allied party to show up and save him from himself. In fact, the only time the Nein directly felt the need to worry about him was when Caleb put him in danger without thinking through certain connections that would be made, and even then, that was more of Caleb feeling guilt-ridden about it than actual worrying.

And to be very clear, Essek absolutely was and still to this day in canon is in a massive, self-imposed pickle, but when it actually comes down to it, the Nein were pretty tangential and superfluous to navigating that, and he's predominantly doing the work himself.

[100hearteyes]

I loved this last episode of CR, but also have a couple of gripes with it and the overall arc. I can't overstate how epic the episode was and how much I love a BIG LOT of what's been done so far in C3, but I also need to rant about two or three things that have been bothering me lol

(ignore if you don't wanna read mild criticism)

First, Ludinus's plan with Vax relied on too many variables and probably's. Orym or no Orym, he assumed Keyleth would intervene in-person for sure at the end, therefore luring Vax out, which... Yeah, very very likely, but should you really hinge a huge master plan a thousand years in the making on 'very likely'? I wouldn't fuck with that many odds tbh.

Secondly, and this is an issue I've had with this campaign at large since the Ruidus plot really kicked off, I think the fact that Bells Hells were always clearly in over their heads in this was a bit of a turn off for me, or at least took me out of it a bit, because the whole thing felt too big, too soon for the campaign. Like, how do you follow this up? How do you justify another nearly two thirds or over a half of campaign? Because yeah, if C1 and C2 are anything to go by, we haven't even hit the halfway mark for Bells Hells. How do you keep the stakes high enough for people to care when you've had this monumental arc so soon when the characters aren't even level 10 and are so clearly out of their depth? This feels like endgame, but we aren't even halfway through. Mind you, I love this arc (despite the incessant lore dumps, some of which quite boring tbh) and thought 51 was epic. Legit cried when Vax showed up and then got my heart broken. Also wanted a lot more Beau and Caleb, though, and those rolls by Liam and Marisha taking them out so soon felt really unsatisfying tbh, even if they helped flesh out just how strong these villains are. I think that's part of the problem - Lvl20 Keyleth and Vax plus Lvl~18 (?) Caleb and Beau were no match for them, how could the Hells even make a difference besides delay the inevitable? So yeah, I think that's my main gripe: the disproportionate threat level, which also made it glaringly obvious from the beginning that there was no winning there - not completely. Not to mention that it somewhat strips players of their agency imo. Of course there were some bad rolls and bad decisions. The Imogen/Liliana persuasion check, Ashley - who is my favorite player and must be protected at all costs, mind you - was pretty much useless (it seems she thought they had more time, otherwise definitely wouldn't have skipped turn after turn after turn, especially considering Fearne had the potential to do great damage to the bad guys' plan - BIG roleplaying moment from Ashley by not going for the beacon, though. That was SO tempting, but she managed to stay true and not metagame), the Beau and Caleb rolls (Beau's above all, since she had advantage), Orym failing to destroy the backpack when he was THAT CLOSE, Marisha forgetting to check the scry ball sooner early on, their bad rolls which delayed the destruction of the power cores in the chambers (could have got to more of them had they done it faster), FCG breaking Ryn (a mix of bad roll and bad decision), Chetney spending all that time on a vain climb, etc. Like, again, yes, a lot of things could have gone differently, but I really think that the final outcome, whatever the iteration, was pretty much out of the players' hands.

Thirdly, and I promise this is the last one, although I loved loved loved loved loved to see Beau and Caleb and Keyleth and Vax, I think the waters may be starting to murky a bit regarding the utilization of former PCs. Marisha hasn't rolled once for Keyleth (as far as we know) but rolled for Beau, even though Matt plays both. So Iike, what's the rule here? Why do Marisha and Liam's rolls only decide some characters' fates? Is it fair to hinge Beau and Caleb's success on the players' roles even though you're the one playing them now? Like, you could see the added tension to Liam and especially Marisha, knowing they each had not one but TWO characters' lives on their hands and couldn't even make decisions for one of them. I don't know that the added pressure is very fair to the players. And, again, why do it for Beau and Caleb and not every other character they've played that shows up? And is it fair to do it for one set of characters and not the other? We go back to the main question: what is the rule?

Anyway I guess I just needed to verbalize my thoughts about the few things I didn't like 😆

That said, I CAN'T WAIT to see what happens next and I really hope Fearne still gets to meet Beau eventually. My girl Ashley deserves it.

[starlitangels]

More of my mythology brain goin' brr

Hades only mentions Zeus and Poseidon being his siblings, and not his other ( mythological) siblings, being Hera, Hestia, and Demeter.

Probably cus, Zeus was married to Hera, and Persephone was Zeus and Demeter's daughter. It would be a pile of spaghetti that is the mythologically accurate greek gods family tree.

Probably best that they aren't related.

Wait, so does that mean that Hermes, Artemis, Apollo, Athena, Ares, Hephaestus, Dionysius, literally 7% of ancient greece( yes i took that from somewhere) are our cousins?

Welp, late night thoughts with Ryn lol(?)

Yeah. He also says one of them is his sister but doesn't say whether it's Poseidon or Zeus.

Yeah Greek mythology is a mess. So is Norse, tbh

I don't think we're going to have that many cousins XD Whether fortunately or unfortunately is up to you, I suppose. The beauty of GB's storytelling is adding subtle references to the mythologies the names come from, but making his own stories with new frankly quite refreshing twists

[ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2]

hey

Sort of cracks moon theory

When I was watching c2 nd we were initially learning abt Cognouza and were unsure about what it was, I shared Jesters theory of "the eyes of nine city in the astral sea" potentially being that big god killing device

anyways, that wasn't it. We never learned what the God killing weapon of Aeor was.

What if its Ruidus? No one knows what it is after all, and it's unknown when it came into existence.

It also does not play a role with any major religion with exandria, so it's odd to be related to the betrayer gods as well. And it's taken to be a bad omen, and a god destroying weapon is a pretty bad omen.

Also, one more thing. Quoting this from the CR wiki page on Ruidus:

"Some worry that rare double eclipses, where Catha and Ruidus simultaneously overlap the sun, cause the Material Plane and other planes to calamitously intersect."

The wiki page also mentions that Ruidus "sometimes glows or flashes at seemingly random times."

Anyways, where else have we heard about odd planar disturbances with no apparent source? Planerider Ryn, or rather the notes that Jester read when the party took refuge in the Fire Plane

"I continue to find an aberration in my data pertaining to Exandria, a cyclical, months-long, slow surge in low-level magical interference that then recedes just as slowly. Something that tangles my readings and upsets my analysis. It is too faint to identify the arcane nature at source, but I worry if this pertains to to the shifting between the veils. It could be something very interesting. Something very frightening. Very wonderful. More tests are required."

Maybe that something is the moon? Who knows ahshdhdgd

Taking my tinfoil hat off now lol

[queen-scribbles]

Extremely 👀👀👀 moment in tLBT: Ryn will use Pan’s nickname but still doggedly insists on Liefred for Red.

I wonder why >:3

[starryingenue]

More like poetic and not pathetic! 💕

omg kyra i know this is you and i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for all of you who don’t know, kyra is the love of my life, the light of my life, my wife, my fiancée, my whole world, and most importantly my bro. she’s my best friend and if anything happened to her i would kill everyone in this room and then myself

psssssssst go follow her she’s @flourescent-bubbles