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tinytablepodcast · 8 months ago

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Help Us Choose Our Next Game!

We received so many wonderful submissions from the indie ttrpg community of games to play next on Tiny Table. We need your help to narrow them down! We will be taking the top 3 games to Patreon for our patrons in the Mini and Micro tier to vote on.

Reactors and Romance: Reactors and Romance is a rules-light RPG about flirting while piloting a giant robot. You only have one stat, and that is your HEAT 🔥. Your HEAT measures how hot your mech's reactor is getting, and how hot of a pilot you are 😉 Will you fight or flirt your way through battle? Can you keep your mech from overheating? What will it be hotshot?

To Infinity...: Inspired by Alien and The Thing, "To Infinity..." is a tabletop social deduction game where up to 4 players and 1 GM need to escape on a spaceship from an alien monster who killed the rest of the crew. What none of the survivors know is that this isn't just a monster, the alien could be any one of them...

Hellborn Descended: Hellborn Descended is an infernal TTRPG set in a modern Hell, inspired by comics and shows such as Hellboy and Helluva Boss. In Hellborn, players take on the role of sinners, demons, and fallen angels, working together as mercenaries to attain wealth, fame, and power, or gloriously die trying. Check out their kickstarter!

Darkest Hour: Darkest Hour is a horror tabletop game inspired by horror movies of all kinds, featuring a group of monster hunters attempting to put a stop to a malicious supernatural entity in a single night. Over the course of six rounds, known as the Hours, the hunters must use their abilities to establish benefits that will aid them even as the haunt grows in strength and the hunters become less effective. As Blackest Night envelops them, the haunt feels insurmountable -- will the hunters find the haunt's true weakness and destroy it for good, or be whittled down until only a Final Girl remains? Featuring six haunts, six locations ripe for the haunting, and six unique hunter archetypes, Darkest Hour is perfect for one-shots for 2-5 players, and can either be run by a GM, or communally without a GM.

Dawn of the Orcs: Dawn of the Orcs is a GMless dark fantasy worldbuilding and roleplaying game. Play the magical technocrats who create the first orcs as living weapons and tell the story of how the Orcs become their own people. It can be played seriously as a fantasy transhumanist Dr. Strangelove, or as a wacky game of Saruman by committee.

The Trains of the Glorious Republic of the People: The Trains of the Glorious Republic of the People is a tabletop RPG where players take on the roles of a train crew in a fictional 1930s totalitarian state. Your mission is simple: get yourselves and your unique train from point A to point B though things are never that easy on the tracks of the Glorious Republic. The game requires only d6s, pen, paper, and, above all, your loyalty to the party.

Paratype: Paratype takes place in the aftermath of an apocalypse where giant bugs have reclaimed the earth. For humans survival is a challenge-one helped by the invention of a device that grants strange new buggy abilities. Paratype is a game about survival, humanity and so, so many bugs.

Broke Wizards: Broke Wizards is a light, silly game about working class sorcery. Play as students of the prestigious Audment's Academy of the Arcane who must go delving for treasure in order to pay tuition. To cast magic, wizards must use items found around their dormitory as makeshift spell ingredients - and then use their real-life argumentative skills to convince the living force of magic that yes, actually, a dirty shot glass is a great ingredient for casting a spell of water breathing, thank you very much.

RiskTaker: RiskTaker is a GM-less system built around players making big moves with big risks. Each sessions revolves around "The Scene," a climactic event like an episode's final battle in a superhero TV show, or the aftermath of a heist gone wrong. Players take turns either doing exposition scenes to give context to The Scene and built character relationships, or Influencing The Scene, which means they take a decisive action and decide how effective that action will be. But watch out - the more impactful your action, the more things can go wrong, and the more likely it is that they will. But what's a good story without a few Risks?

'til it kills us: in ‘til it kills us, you play as a group of young, reckless queer activists fighting to make a difference in the world. you’re angry, and you’re scared, and rightfully so. not to mention, you’re all a little bit fucked up. whether you’re dealing with issues at home, struggling with mental illness, or just learning to stand on your own two feet, life isn’t easy. but you’re also in love with the world, and with each other, so you keep fighting anyway. it’s the only thing you can do. the only problem is your magic. sure, it protects you. sure, it helps you fight. but you can feel it – feeding on the most unpleasant parts of you. and the longer you have this magic, the more you fear by those feelings. you worry it might be powering but you keep fighting. what else is there? remember what you always said: we’re going to keep on fighting ‘til it kills us.

If you submitted a game to us and don't see it on the list, don't fret! We will be hosting many polls like this and your game is still in consideration. If you game is on here and isn't chosen to move on to our next poll, also don't fret! We may add it on to the next poll again.

#indie ttrpgs #indie ttrpg #ttrpg #tabletop rpg #ttrpg podcast #tiny table #reactors and romance #paratype #'til it kills us #RiskTaker #Broke Wizards #Dawn of the Orcs #The Trains of the Glorious Republic of the People #Darkest Hour #to infinity...#hellborn descended

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severedfromthesource · 29 days ago

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A Warlord's Heart Part 2/3

Part 3

While racing back to the safehouse where Cira waits, Zulin succumbs to his injuries, and Splitter must get his heart beating again. M resus, M rescuer, F rescuer, mouth to mouth, magical defibrillation.

Everything hurt. Zulin no longer knew what was cold, what was broken, what was merely bruised. There was no cataloging his pains. Agonem moved swiftly through the trees, doing his best not to jostle him. He succeeded, mostly. Every now and then he hit a hard step that shot through his cargo like lightning. Zulin could only manage small groans of protest. "I'm sorry," Agonem would whisper softly. Despite this, he didn't slow down. He knew they couldn't, but that didn't stop him from wanting desperately for a moment's reprieve.

Somehow, even with his own healing injuries, the orc managed to clamber into the saddle of one of the work horses they'd stolen from the camp. It struck him that he'd been looking for Zulin when he didn't return. There was a stirring of gratitude at that, the idea his absence had worried him enough to come looking. Zulin curled his fingers against Agonem's forearm, his back pressed to the orc's chest as the steed took off in a gallop. It lit every nerve ending on fire. The motion was not gentle, the jarring ripple of movement went through his very bone marrow. Agonem clutched him close in an effort to cushion some of his against his own body, but it did little to alleviate the pain. He tucked Zulin's head into the hollow of his throat, cheek to cheek. Warm breath ghosted against his ear as he whispered, "You were very brave, Zulin. You just have to be brave for a little longer, alright? I'm going to get you back to your mate."

Gently, Zulin plucked again at the little thread in his mind. Exhaustion dragged him down, the physical and mental effort of calling on the bond too much to stand. He wanted to thank the orc, to praise him, and yes, even to absolve him of any guilt he might feel if he didn't succeed. He'd tried to save him. That was enough. His lips parted slightly, brushing against Agonem's throat as he held him close. So many things he wanted to say and didn't have the strength for.

"Zulin," Splitter growled. This close, the noise rumbled through his whole body, vibrating in the orc's broad chest as he held him close. There was a pleading edge to his voice as he murmured, "Don't, you don't get to just slip away. You have to stay with me, you hear? Cira is waiting for you, your pup is waiting to meet you." The arm around his torso tightened slightly, squeezing, miraculously, without causing more pain. The embrace chased away the chill, the strength and gentleness of it like a warm bath, all-encompassing. Safe. "I can't-" The words broke in a shuddering breath he felt against his ear. The cool, smooth shape of tusks dragged against his cheek as Splitter nuzzled their faces close. "I can't be the cause of all this. You can't die, not for me."

Zulin wanted to tell him he wasn't dying, of course he wasn't dying. There was so much left to do. Of course he couldn't leave Cira to bring their child into the world and raise it alone. But air wouldn't come. The tiny, involuntary inhalations were more like muscle spasms than breaths. His limbs were too weak to move, too cold to feel. Something throbbed painfully in his chest, once, twice. Then nothing. Everything inside him went still.

--Agonem--

Zulin sighed softly against the edge of his jaw. A little noise passed his lips, a halting sort of groan before he was plunged suddenly into silence. Cold fear washed over him. "Zulin!" he snapped, bringing a hand up to the dark elf's chest. It didn't move. He rubbed his scarred knuckles against his sternum, hard and insistent. All it did was limply jostle the paling corpse in his arms. His cheek came to rest against Agonem's clavicle, his lids laying heavily against his empty eyes.

The mount charged through the snowy forest, deftly weaving through brush for a charger of such size. They weren't so far from the little fisherman's cabin they'd found shelter in, they would be there in just a few minutes. But every moment Zulin went without a pulse was one moment too long. Agonem clutched the horse's mane to lead it, the other spread out against the elf's unmoving chest. "Come on," he whispered and tried shoving the heel of his palm against the smaller man's sternum. He rocked limply against him. It was hard to tell just how effective compressions like this were, if he even could squeeze his heart enough to force a pulse. There was no other option. With his head tucked against his neck to try and keep it still, he began rhythmically pounding against his ribs. Zulin's arm jolted loose from the cloak and hung, swinging at his side. Agonem's only consolation were the tiny puffs of breath he was forcing out of the elf- a sign he at least was pumping his chest fairly hard. He could do no more than pray it was enough.

They crashed through the brush in a stampede. The body in his arms may as well have been a doll for the way it rocked in the saddle with every movement. "You have to wake up," Agonem begged quietly, "You have to breathe. Breathe, breathe!" But he was met with silence. Those scarlet eyes stared through him, flat and empty. To see his face smooth, without emotion, when he had so often had creases around the mouth and at the corners of his eyes with some sly smile. The devilish glint gone out of him. It tore at his heart. His vision blurred as he looked down at the elf. "Please, just... just don't die..."

He allowed himself only a brief moment of weakness to slide his arm around his torso and pull him in close. Heat was slowly creeping away from his skin, what little he had when he'd found him. Agonem pressed his nose against the soft curls of his hair, not allowing the sob he felt building to escape. If he cried, if he let go of that tether, he would lose his courage to keep going. He'd drop from the horse and cling to him and do neither of them any good.

Time blurred into a repetition of hoofbeats and the rough work of compressions. Agonem nearly flew past their shelter in his concentration on the task. He would have, if not for Cira's startled cry from the doorway of the cottage. He brought the horse to a skidding halt as she threw herself out into the snow dressed only in her thin nightgown. He'd hardly gotten down from the saddle by the time she rushed up to meet him. "Zu!" she sobbed, taking his face between her palms. "Gods, no, no please, my love..." She fervently swept his hair from his face, touching him, cradling him, like she could revive him if she just pressed her fingers to every part. "I-Is he-!" Agonem could only shake his head, his throat tight. His words strained as he said, "He was attacked. I was too... I didn't find him in time, they hurt him badly." Tears stood out in her eyes as she looked to him, still holding up her mate's head. Then she was tipping it back against his shoulder and sealing their mouths together. The hot air she breathed down his throat was sent back into the bitter cold in a plume of fog when she broke the seal. She sniffled and gave him another lungful. That too was expelled in a noisy sigh and streamed between them. "Get him inside," she instructed. So they did.

They swiftly piled every fur and cloak they could find on the floor near the hearth, and fueled it with more wood until it was a roaring bonfire. The terrible bruises made themselves more evident by firelight. One side of his chest was a motley of purple and black and green, as well as the side of his face. Thin cuts marred one cheek, stuck still with tiny pebbles. Cira settled her hands in the middle of his chest but Agonem grabbed her wrist. "You're not well," he said gently. "I'm never well," she snapped back, but her face was wet with tears, "But I can't just-" "Cira, please. The baby." Those simple words crumpled her resolve. Her face was paler than usual, only burning with color around the cheeks from the fever she'd suffered the past few days they'd been in this shelter. Whatever fire that had animated her went out and she bowed over her mate's body. "I have to do something," she whispered, her voice thick with grief. "Breathe for him," Agonem said as he laced his hands together over Zulin's ribcage, "And hold his wrist. If his heartbeat returns you can tell me to stop." More quietly he added, "Don't hurt yourself, salim. He would not want his life to cost you your own or that of your child."

As Agonem began pumping his chest, Cira gathered up his limp hand in her own, pressing her lips against his knuckles while she kept track of his pulse. The compressions were no less violent than on the horse. They made his body jerk with each thrust. Shoulders shrugging, head dancing against the floor, chest caving, legs flinching. The only thing still about him were his eyes, staring through them both into something neither could see. For a time Agonem's grunts and Zulin's expelled huffs were the only break in silence.

"He was always good to me," Cira eventually murmured as she smoothed hair from his forehead, "Ever since we were children. The others would run ahead without a thought for me or if I could keep up. But Zulin always hung back. Even if it meant he got left behind too. It never... never felt like pity." The orc glanced up, never slowing his pace, to watch her uncurl his stiff fingers and cup them to her cheek. "I thought I heard him a little while ago... And he... he sounded so scared, even while he was trying to tell me to run. I thought it was a dream." Agonem had heard it too. A voice with no origin. Zulin called out to him as if across a gulf. He sat back on his heels and nodded to her. "Breathe." She did, forcing his chest to rise as her breath filled his lungs. He made a noisy rasp as they emptied, his mouth slack when they parted. Cira pressed her face against his and shivered. Her words were barely audible as she spoke against his cheek, "Take a breath, my darling, please. Please don't go. You can't." She moved his limp hand to press against her belly, round with the child he might never see. She showered the corpse with such gentle affection, kissing the seam of his lips and brushing back his hair with her other hand, that Agonem had to look away. His throat had grown tight. His body had begun to hurt with the exertion. The wound he had sustained from their life saving efforts not long ago had opened up, oozing blood down his side. It clotted against his shirt in a dark spreading stain. He'd have to tend to it later.

Zulin's body gave no resistance to their measures. He couldn't. He just lay there as his ribs were caved in and his heart beaten into a weak cadence. Warmth had all but gone out of him, and the lilac hue to his skin had faded into a sickly grey. Cira held his wrist, feeling the pulse the orc forced with his repetitive thumps. Unaware that he was working harder on this body than he had dared on her for fear of harming her baby. There was no such fear with Zulin, only the fear that he was too late and they had already lost him. There wasn't even the hard edge of his ribcage anymore, his chest had grown soft after Agonem's first few rounds pulverized the obstacle of his sternum. Now it seemed the only color in his body as colorful bruising seeped across his chest. He stared up and past his mate as if silently begging for her air, for her to sustain what little life remained in his body. She'd pressed their brows together as tears silently rolled from her cheek to patter against his like rain. After a few cycles of compressions and breaths, Agonem's eyes flicked up to find her pale as she bowed over him. He hadn't told her to give him air, but she was filling his lungs anyway, what remained of his ribcage bowing up against the orc's palms.

"Cira," he growled. She ignored him. "Come on," she rasped quietly, "Come back, Zu..." Sweat beaded at her temple as she gave him another breath, then another, hardly allowing him to groan out the previous breath before she filled his throat again. When she broke the seal of their mouths she was gulping for her own air, yet still took a great inhalation to give him. "Cira!" he snapped more insistently. He cupped her shoulder just in time to stop her from collapsing atop her unconscious mate. Suddenly she became dead weight in his arms. He cursed under his breath as he drew her to the side of the body and arranged her gently. Her skin was a furnace. She'd been feverish and unwell for days, too sick to even continue the travel, and this momentary burst of adrenaline had cost her dearly. Whatever strength she'd drawn on had fled her as quickly as it came. Agonem settled her head gently on the cabin floor beside Zulin's. A quick check of her pulse told him the sickly thing was beating wildly, far too hard for a healthy pregnant woman, but not so hard he feared she would succumb to another heart attack. "Foolish woman," he whispered. Abruptly he was alone. He'd never felt it more acutely.

Turning again to the task of the dying elf, he pressed his fingers to Zulin's throat. Nothing but his own heart pulsing in his fingertips. He maneuvered to press his ear against the male's chest. Silence. Nothing he'd done so far seemed to have any effect. A glance outside told him he had been at this for some time, if the lengthening shadows were any indication. His fingers tightened against Zulin's poor, broken sternum. The elf's pallid face swam before his eyes. The most terrible part, he decided, would be Cira's forgiveness. And Zulin's. If he gave up now and let him remain a corpse, both the dark elves would forgive him. The knowledge burned him, hotter than any brand. They should hate him. But they didn't. They showed him kindness, sympathy, even love. They loved him. Despite everything in the world telling him not to, he loved them back. He set his hands side by side over Zulin's sunken chest.

The storm slammed into his body and he bucked. His legs kicked out, his chest spasming for a moment before it crashed back against the furs. Lifeless once more. No pulse at his throat, nor his femoral, nor any sound occupying his chest. Normally there was something, some hitch in the heart's rhythm, or the sense of it floundering inside their body that told Agonem when these electrical discharges were most useful. But there was nothing. Nothing but the pressing weight of impending failure and grief driving him now. If Zulin didn't wake up soon, he never would. The orc's chest heaved as he fought back tears and pressed their mouths together, delivering a far less effective breath than Cira could have given him. His clumsy tusks obstructed him, even as he covered his lips as best he could with his own and blew deeply down his throat. Too deeply. He pulled back to see a slight roundness to his once flat belly, and knew he'd pushed the air too hard into his body. In the depths of his feelings he could barely register it. He wiped tears off on his shoulder and set his hands to the small male's chest again. "She needs you," he snarled, more bestial than he'd ever spoken to either of them, "That pup needs you. And I... I need you to come back."

He shocked him. The body writhed and flinched all over.

Again. It jerked in a spasm.

Again.

When the last shock produced a hint of ozone smell and something cooking, Agonem jerked his hands away. Burn marks in the shapes of his large fingers graced Zulin's chest and ribs, thin red welts raised against nearly white skin. The elf's eyes were finally closed when he looked up in horror at his face. That was what undid him. Suddenly he was transformed from something he could beat life back into, something he could fix, to a quiet man peacefully sleeping. He could do no more violence on his body. Instead he sobbed in the quiet of the far flung cabin and gathered him up in his arms. "I'm sorry," he wheezed, "I never meant to-" He choked on the word 'hurt' and buried his face against Zulin's shoulder to weep. He had never lost someone he truly loved. No one who had loved him back. His mother was gone somewhere he didn't know, that was true, but she was the only person who had ever shown him real affection. He had never developed a bond strong enough to mourn someone's death. Now he had. He had never known such an intolerable ache inside him.

"Agonem," Cira whispered from the floor. "I'm sorry," he said once more, muffled by Zulin's soft, cool shoulder. "I feel it," she went on. "If you had never met me-" "Agonem-" "I have taken so much from you, Cira, how can you ever-" "Dove, his heart is beating." There was such little strength in her voice he nearly didn't hear her. He definitely didn't believe at first. But when he looked down, she lay on her back, her fingers twined around Zulin's wrist. His arm hung limp, shifted loose from the desperate circle of Agonem's embrace. Only when he stepped back from the storm of his emotions did he realize there was a very slight rise and fall to the elf male's chest. When he pressed his ear against his heart, he heard it. Weak, nearly not there, and with far too long pauses between each beat. But a heartbeat all the same. Alive. Barely.

#resus community #resus #cpr #chest compressions #male resus #mouth to mouth #magic defibrillation

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theficdealer · 11 months ago

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“How do I—! How do I know!” Bilbo echoed, bristling with exasperation. “I journeyed all the way across Middle Earth, through forests and over the hills, crossed the Misty Mountains and the Great Greenwood through to the ruins of the great City of Dale and further still to Erebor, fighting goblins and orcs and giant spiders and a whole blasted war, then did the whole thing again in reverse, and you have the gall to ask me how I know!”

There was a beat of total silence. “Well, it was a reasonable question,” said Fortinbras, stung.

Bilbo drew in a long breath through his nose and gave an almighty huff. “Mark my words. All of you,” he said, pointing a finger at all the gathered faces, his voice tight with the desperation to be taken seriously. The dwarves would have listened. They would’ve had his back. “You must evacuate Hobbiton. Take only what you need to survive, and run. Go east. Forget your handkerchiefs and hang the silver spoons. Anyone who stays here, will die.”

“Now, Bilbo…”

He held up a hand to his cousin’s face. “No. No, don’t. You’ll see. Take my advice or don’t, you’ll see,” he said, casting a fearful glance at the smoke billowing from the ruins of the first raid. It was the pebble before the avalanche, and there were already more, thinner trails of smoke joining the larger one. A lump formed in his throat. They were already coming. He gave one last, loud proclamation to the crowd. “Flee on the east road. Tell anyone, everyone — we have no choice.”

—Excerpt from There Is One They Could Follow (One They Could Call Thain) by Oakensting (WorseOmens) on ao3

Basically, Bilbo pulls a Thorin Oakenshield and leads his people from the orc-ravaged Shire to safety. Meanwhile in Erebor, Thorin refuses to believe Bilbo is dead.

Sadly, i think this fic was deleted. I mourned it more than some family members.

Wayback machine link in comments, thank you @st4rp1x3l and on a rb from @valewright67 !!

*staggers into the room Kramer-style covered in water, soot, glitter, and slivers of paper from the waste bin of a paper shredder like confetti* So, guess who just watched the lotr trilogy for the first time despite being a fan of the Hobbit for a literal decade! Also the last two (three?) months have sucked ass and I’m exhausted, so buckle up.

Anyway, this is one of my comfort fics, I love it so much. Everything from the Pining(TM) to the blatant parallels between the dwarves and hobbits.

Things I loved in particular:

Gandalf the White Ox

Kíli taking one look at Thorin and being like “oh I know exactly what’s going on here”

Hamfast and Drogo

Petty Thorin

Seriously, he’s so petty I love it

Bard just being like “yeah, that’s pretty much how I was when I lost my wife”

The r e u n i o n

“you’re like a hobbit king!” “my title is thain, actually” *incredulous staring*

splash fight<3

The acorn speech<3<3<3

The “New Polite”

Dwobbit debate

read it or the ulnas are mine <3

#the hobbit #hobbit fanfic #bagginshield #fic rec #ao3 fanfic #ive read it several times #bamf bilbo baggins #imitation is the sincerest form of flattery #thorin x bilbo #gamgees deserve good things

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pollkien · 4 months ago

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Glorfindel propaganda (art by @misswhalie):

Second elf ever to have canonically been reembodied

“Glorfindel was tall and straight; his hair was of shining gold, his face fair and young and fearless and full of joy; his eyes were bright and keen, and his voice like music; on his brow sat wisdom, and in his hand was strength” this is from LOTR but i think it’s cute

One of the mightest elves in Middle-earth

Slayed a balrog!

Dearly loved by the Gondolindrim. Also lord of the house of the golden flower. Adorable name

Guarded Turgon’s flank with Ecthelion during the Nirnaeth

He actually survived the fall of Gondolin, and died defending the survivors from an Orc ambush

Grass and yellow flowers grew on his cairn…

Spiritual power enhanced by reembodiment. Good for him. Wonder if it also enhanced his pussy power

The Maiar that he lived with considered him an equal

Manwë’s special guy that he sent across the sea :)

I mean come on look at his glorious golden hair

Turgon propaganda:

Gondolin was the longest lasting of the hidden elven kingdoms :)

Also a high king!

Tallest elf ever save for Thingol

Original wielder of Glamdring <3

“And most of all his kin Morgoth feared Turgon; for of old in Valinor his eye had lighted upon him, and whenever he drew near a shadow had fallen on his spirit, foreboding that in some time that yet lay hidden, from Turgon ruin should come to him” sexy

Called The Wise apparently

Has a staff of doom. Hot

Ordered the first elven execution <3

“‘I will not debate with you, Dark Elf. By the swords of the Noldor alone are your sunless woods defended. Your freedom to wander there wild you owe to my kin; and but for them long since you would have laboured in thraldom in the pits of Angband. And here I am King; and whether you will it or will it not, my doom is law. This choice only is given to you: to abide here, or to die here; and so also for your son.’” This goes quite hard

Single father! Come get your dilfs!

Finrod’s bestie :)

“Fingon and Turgon were bold and fiery of heart, and loath to abandon any task to which they had put their hands until the bitter end, if bitter it must be” cute

Ulmo’s special guy

“Gondolin upon Amon Gwareth became fair indeed and fit to compare even with Elven Tirion beyond the sea. High and white were its walls, and smooth its stairs, and tall and strong was the Tower of the King.” Wow. :)

Crushed by his own tower rip

#silmarillion #the silmarillion #turgon #glorfindel #tolkien #tolkien polls #poll tournament #silm sexyman tournament

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lichenes · 1 year ago

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✿°•∘masterlist∘•°✿

all fics are 'x reader' unless specified otherwise :^]

"Anatomy of a Fall" ~ Vincent Renzi - you look for you keys and find love [sfw] Vincent Renzi - you go on a walk [sfw] Vincent Renzi - morning kisses [sfw] Vincent Renzi - a fantasy, a meeting and a fall [slight nsfw] Vincent Renzi - pt 2 to this^ [sfw] Vincent Renzi - alphabet [nsfw] Vincent Renzi - making up for a fight [nsfw] Vincent Renzi - reader jealous over Sandra [sfw] Vincent Renzi - jealous vincent [sfw] Sandra Voyter - smut... [nsfw] Vincent Renzi - you meet him during your law school days and then years after... [sfw] Vincent Renzi - a sequel-prequel to this^ a nice not-date in the park with him during your law school days [sfw] Vincent Renzi - he reads you a French book [sfw] Vincent Renzi - 7 minutes in heaven and a confession [sfw] Vincent Renzi - museum date!! [sfw] Vincent Renzi - doing it in his office [nsfw] Vincent Renzi - first meetings and physical contact [sfw] Sandra Voyter - jealousyyyy [sfw] Vincent Renzi - hcs [sfw/nsfw]

"The Bare Necessity" ~ Pierre Perdrix - meeting pierre and he's awkward [sfw] Pierre Perdrix - two oblivious idiots in love [sfw] Pierre Perdrix - sequel to this^ drunkenly confessing to eachother [sfw] Pierre Perdrix- domestic moments [sfw] Pierre Perdrix - taking a bath together [sfw]

"Bloody Milk" ~ Pierre Chavanges - slow mornings [sfw]

"Romantics Anonymous" ~ Antoine - meeting him for the first time [sfw]

IRL people ~ Swann Arlaud - teaching you french and giving you a reward [sfw] Swann Arlaud - looking after you when you have a cold [sfw] Swann Arlaud - domestic moments with him... [sfw] Joost Klein - enemies to lovers [sfw] Joost Klein - mutual pining [sfw] Joost Klein - domestic moment [sfw] Ski Aggu - bro is ticklish idk [sfw] Joost Klein - hcs [sfw] Ski Aggu - hcs [sfw] Joost Klein - lazy night in [sfw] Ski Aggu - he notices you at a concert [sfw] Barman - eyefucking turns to.... [nsfw] Metal Singer - NK loml. [sfw]

"Good Omens" ~ Aziraphale&Crowley - dadfic :D

"CoD" ~ König - flowershop owner x the scariest mf you've ever seen [sfw] Ghost - Ghost falls for the receptionist [sfw] König - flowershop au pt2!! [sfw] Ghoap - idiots fucking too loud and reader is pissed [sfw]

"Dead Boy Detectives" ~ Cat King/Thomas - platonic times w the guy [sfw] Charles Rowland - established relationship shenanigans [sfw]

"Resident Evil Village" ~ Karl Heisenberg- he loooves teasing you [sfw] Alcina Dimitrescu - first meeting [sfw]

Monsterloving ~ Orc - angst and make up thigh riding<3 [nsfw] Werewolf - size difference, shopping together [sfw] Werewolf - neeeerd being bullied [sfw]

🇵🇱🇵🇱🇵🇱 "Ojciec Mateusz" ~ Ksiądz Mateusz - wyznanie miłości [sfw]

"Stardew Valley" ~ Shane&Elliott - oooh drama [sfw] Harvey - cockwarming!! [nsfw]

"Arcane" ~ Viktor - angstttttt [sfw] Silco - Silco looking for a mum for Jinx and dancin... [sfw] Silco - angst !! [sfw] Silco - x male!reader, reverse comfort [sfw] Silco - au where you're actually happy [sfw] Silco - brothel worker reader, Silco's love not reciprocated [nsfw] Silco - oblivious idiots in love... [nsfw] Silco - actor au, thirst tweets and more! [sfw]

"Nerdy Prudes Must Die" ~ Max Jagerman - sucking and fucking :D [nsfw]

"Rivals" ~ Declan&Rupert - oooh jealousy oohhh [sfw] Declan - arguin and making up<3 [sfw]

"The Sandman" ~ Dream with an End - pt. 1 - sandman taking care of reader :)

#masterlist #send me asks and whatnot :D

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queerofthedagger · 2 months ago

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Throwback Someday

I was tagged by @atlantablack @polutrope and @idleleaves to share a snippet of something that feels worth revisiting! I was actually just reminded of a Curufinrod fic I wrote a couple of months ago and upon re-reading realized how fond I still am of it so, have some good old Curufinrod hurt/comfort while they are being. well. them about it <3 from like thunder in the stillness

“Findaráto,” he says, finally meeting Finrod’s eyes again—a storm staring back at him. “The bleeding is not stopping.” He takes his hand away from the wound to show the soaked-through fabric to Finrod. He lets it drop, replaces it with more of the same, but Finrod— Well, Finrod knows, then, what he is not saying. He finally takes the knife from between his teeth, bares them at Curufin. “Say what you mean, Curufinwë. Have you not wished death on me often enough to not flinch from it now, of all times? You warned me—the Orcs—it will not even be your—“ “Shut up,” Curufin snaps, and his voice is a violent thing, cutting Finrod to the bone. “You are not going to die here, or so help me—“ He cuts himself off, and it is clear now, so clear, what he has tried to keep contained beneath that implacable mask, the rage a white-flamed, snarling beast finally breaking through the cracks. Curufin visibly reins himself in, his nostrils flaring. “I will have to cauterise the wound, or you will bleed out, but by all the Valar, Ingoldo, I will do that before I let you die in this godforsaken forest from something so pathetic as an Orc arrow.” Somewhere deep beneath the layers of fear and pain, Finrod thinks that he would like to pick the words apart one by one, dig his nails into their edges, break them open. Find all that they so cleverly do not say. Here and now, his mind keeps catching on one word alone, his heart kicking rabbit-fast inside his chest. “Surely, there is another way?” he presses out, fingers digging into the flesh of Curufin’s thigh. “Cauterising is a mannish solution, it is—“ “It is the only thing I can think of to stop the bleeding. The arrow must have been poisoned, the wound is deep, and I know Turko has used it before. We are all cursed to die more easily in these lands, Ingoldo; your golden head as much as my dispossessed one. You can die and meet your brothers in the halls to tell you the same, or you can let me do this. And I am not about to let you choose.” Finrod flinches from the words. Pulls air into his lungs through gritted teeth, holds it. His shoulder throbs. Beneath his hands, Curufin is strung tight, his eyes shining silver in the dim light. Finrod wants to live. Above everything, always, he wants to live. It is what carried him across the Ice, through battle after battle, into the depths of the earth. Finrod wants to live. If he trusts anyone to press fire to his skin to make it so, it would be Curufin. “Alright,” he says, and tilts his chin up as best he might in his position. “If you mess it up, rest assured that I will return to haunt you for the rest of your days.” The corner of Curufin’s mouth twitches, minuscule reprieve from the fury still drawing his features tight. He does not say anything though, merely keeps one hand pressed down on the fabric over Finrod’s wound. He grabs another one of his knives and holds it into the fire.

Tagging: @emryses @thefollow-spot @hobbitwrangler @aredhels @gardensofthemoon @sallysavestheday @thelordofgifs @crackinthecup and anyone else who'd like to! <3

#*mine #mona's writing #tolkien #curufinrod #i miss them ugh <3 #also i am as always incapable of keeping my snippets short i'm so sorry lmao

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ameliathornromance · 11 months ago

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Are you the Final Girl?

Slasher!Orc X Reader

Chapter 3

Masterlist <--- TWS: Murder, reader sees a corpse that has been butchered, dead dove do not eat

You awoke with a stir, checked the clock beside your bed with bleary eyes.

2:45am.

You groaned and rolled over, facing away from the bright digital light and shut your eyes.

Before you were about to drift off, a buzz from your phone made you jump. Rolling over once again, you picked up your phone from your bedside and checked the caller ID.

You had expected it to be Jack, calling to ask for some help getting back home from a pub or something like that. But it wasn’t Jack.

Jennifer’s big, pearly white grin beamed at you on the screen. You picked up the call. “Jen? It’s really late, what are you-”

“Could you meet me?” She said, quickly. “Please. I… I think someones following me.” The urgency in her voice made you sit up right in your bed.

“Where are you?” you asked, throwing the bedcovers off yourself and setting your feet down on the carpet.

“I’m in the middle of the Science block campus. I didn’t want to lead anyone back to my dorm room.” Jennifer said, quickly. Her breath was frantic and quick, as if she might have been running.

“Alright, stay where you are, I’m on my way.” You pulled on a pair of jeans and found a long sleeve jumper and left your dorm room, phone held up to your cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Shh!” Jennifer’s voice moaned with terror.

You felt your stomach drop through your body. You stayed shushed as you began to run down the hallway.

“You don’t have to say anything back, but I’m running now okay? Don’t worry Jen.”

Something told you that this wasn’t just any old creepy guy walking down the same street as you incident.

“I think he’s… oh my God, is that a machete?”

You practically flung yourself at the accommodation doors as Jennifer gasped from the other end of the phone. “What the fuck are you?! Get away from me, I swear you’ll-” but Jennifer never got to finish her sentence.

Her screams rang down the phone, making you flinch at the screen. “Jennifer!” you bellowed, but it was no use.

An unnerving, squelching, followed by a crack and a snap broke up Jennifer’s high pitched screams and cries for help.

If you were running before, you must have been sprinting by now. Heart in your throat, you hung up the phone as you could now hear Jennifer’s screams in life now, more bloodcurdling and terrifying than down the phone.

Your mind raced, what would you do once you got there? It sounded like that the attacker had a weapon, if he really had something dangerous, what good could you do? In your haphazardly thrown together outfit and only phone on hand?

As you turned the corner, past the Humanities block, just before the science block, the screaming fell silent.

And suddenly, you could hear your heart in your ears, thundering and pounding as if it were maintaining the beat of an orchestra. You clamped a hand over your mouth and sank behind a group of bushes that had been rounded with shears.

A battle waged inside of you, one half of you screaming at you to get up and run for your life, knowing that if you turn that final corner where the science block ended, you would die, while the other half shrieked at you that your best friend was dying and she needed your help.

The first half of you won over.

Heavy, slow, pants came into ear shot. Judging from the direction, it had to have been from the science block corner ahead.

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut and cuddled into a ball, hoping that you would become one with the plant.

Burying your head in your knees, the thunk, thunk, thunk of the attacker’s footfalls echoed around inside your head as if you were standing right next to a church bell.

Your stupid, stupid curiosity got the better of you and you dared to peek out from behind the shrubbery.

You froze.

Standing under the lamp light, a man cast a tall, broad shadow down the path. His face was obscured by shadows and long, thick, mangy hair that hung around his head, greasy from bodily fluids.

In his hand, he clutched a long, wide blade that dripped something thick onto the pavement beside him.

His head turned to the left, then to the right, his body as still as a statue. Deciding on which way to go, he stalked off to the left and into the darkness.

You didn’t know how long you sat there for, behind the bushes in the freezing Autumn air.

Finally, you gathered up the courage enough to stand, legs numbed from being coiled so tightly to your chest and stumbled over to the edge of the science building.

“J-Jen?” You called out. Your voice didn’t feel like your own, rather, like it was coming from all around you.

“Jen? C’mon… don’t screw around.” But as you got closer and closer to the mass of viscera on the floor, you could no longer deny it.

This, bloody mush on the floor, was Jennifer. Your best friend.

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Taglist <3

@soapjay @greenie-c @sunndust @gonemorre

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please comment under this post!

#monster lover #monster x human #orc fiction #orc boyfriend #monster x female #monster x you #monster x reader #orc x reader #orc romance #monster romance #slasher!orc x reader #orcs #i love orcs #orc x human reader #orc x human #orc x you #orc x female reader

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wannabebardrambles · 2 months ago

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caitlin live reacts - 23-24

yall there WILL be repeats here and there will also be mixed up episodes but i promise thats bc im as confused as you are. anyways we're clearing out my notes app together <3

AELYS AND KATARI BESTIES??? F u c k y. E s

‘Dont you worry we’ll be just fine’ but in a SOUTHERN ACCENT??? Oh GOD STELLA IS TALKING TO A E L Y S NOW????

Im crying aelys asking JB for tips on meditating>??? I will BAWL MY EYES OUT

“You can be empty. But stillll box” I LOVE HIM

Aelys can’t think of nothing it doesn’t help but having JB talk to her DOESSSSSSS aosijkdfhuiwoqjdehbfsvgioekpjrnbghvhvioerjrkngiofvdknv kcofdn jbkio

“Stillness without stagnation. Its clarity. There is no becoming exactly like the still lake, but it helps to try”

Aelys’ MAGIC RETURNS??? IN THE FAINTEST WAY?? IDK WHAT THE LIGHT BLUE MEANS

THERE IS AN AVENUE SHE CAN PURSUE????? AFGHGHAGHAGAHAHAHAAHGAHGAHGAGHGHAGH

Do they not remember Lenore?

‘Let’s do something nice afterwards’ HELP??? THE LOVE TRIANGLE??? WTH????

The VOICE DROP by iridium

Hope is apparently mechanically connected to ppl’s emotions…thats intriguing

HEY WHAT THE FFUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKK

WHATS GOING ONNNNN WITH PPL’S MEMORIESSSSSSSS

‘Auxiliary legionnaire’ no? Consultant for the divine and theology?

‘No point dwelling on spilt blood’ HELP

I dont like this whole ‘maybe they need a more direct approach’ from hope thats ominous as fuck

Why is katari being so weird abt the fucking sand hogs??? Like damn yh thats my WIFE but also wth

Polarity shift in aelys?? Fuck me sideways in a ditch. Tattoo actively pulling magical threads inwards. Eating

‘My, dan?’ INSANE

Aelys needs to meditate or die meanwhile the rest of them…

DAMIAN’S IN SENTINAL IG???? Deceased. Or he just did psychic training with orcs???

Valaxis? falaxis?? WHO ISSSS DAMIEN????

I THINK YOU KNOW MORE THAN YOU REMEMBER I THINK YOU DO TOO?

First time only aelys attempts to use neg energy release - it will heal????

So glad her copper bones are fucking good for something

Jon would you stop sounding so enthusiastic abt Aelys dying rn are you aware some of us are quite fond of her

Miss girl is now BLACKMAILING her god jfc no one is doing it like synnove

'What we don’t mean always hurts the most’ the EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION UGHGHGHGHH I WANT STELLA G O N E

SYNNOVE DON’T U FUCKING DARE

I DON’T LIKE THIS I DON’T LIKE IT ‘WHAT IF I ASKED YOU TO BREAK YOUR OWN HEART TO HEAL SO MANY OTHERS WOULD YOU DO IT? COULD YOU?

I DONT KNOW WHATS HAPPENING miss girl has way too many gods

Twilight veil??? What the fuck what the fuck what the fucl ‘PRESERVE LIFE WORKS BUT NOT BY STELLAS HAND’ jsbhdfeguryiaowpjrfhbgvsjeioapwjh

Aelys is so fucking feral. Gets up, crawls miserably up the enemy ship, fails her stealth check, crit hits the guys closest to her and he dies immediately

‘Lethallin” - apparently actual sibling bonding from the champions which is ADORABLE but also its FUCKING MARAVIX SURELY IM SO EXCITED

‘Almost recoils and then leans into it???”

Did katari just call the fucking sand hogs kids

Pls god let this be maravix coming

‘…noooooo…my meal.’ AELYS

He calls Aelys IR’VIRAAN Kajshdefergseui;jow;a

Bathriel - star seer - HES BEEN LOOKING FOR AELYS

I A M S O B B I N G. damn was i wrong abt maravix tho

Wait Bathriel was a Will PC???? ASJDKHFGSJFHGIWREUR icon

I must listen to the playlist in order aight got it got it

Not fucking YouTube cutting to adds in the middle of the rock of Gibraltar

Ok these hamilton references are actually getting out of hand

Im SO UPSET wdym

BATHRIEL has been going to lighthouses - wants to stop the court of the star???

Bathriel babes why r u still helping them???

Aelys might want to know but I DON’T

The roots can never be used again. Given new life albeit rotten? Wait can the elvenon now not reproduce?? Or r they now producing the yucky children?? Wtf

Ok so Lenore was 100% the person the court of the star fought to get the faded realm beacon??

Sethrixis? Elven?? Aka iridium. Bubbles girlfriend

Alara - (Elf mom? whomst???). Maravix not returned home????? Assumed she was with Aelys??? Fuck. idk whats happening but it seems Bad

‘You devoured a generation and disappeared into the dream scar. It widened in your wake’ AGHHRHRHRHHRHRHRHR

Do not! Let it! USE YOU!!!!! Wow this is NOT how utilitarianism works and i say that as a relatively utilitarian philosophy major

Valor babes. What??? She gave him a piece of her obsidian hair and hes like ‘thank you it’s been years’ WHAT?

‘I WANT TO TALK’ AND THEN EATS IT WITH HER FUCKING MOUTH????

JB PICKS AELYS UP ASDFBJUIOJWADE

Damien realising he helped BOND X to Aelys lmfaooooo Aelys is so fucking feral

So now they are exclusively permanently bonded forever and always which is TERRIBLE for plot reasons and its all bc Jon thought vitrifying his bones would be cool and he came up with the idea from a misunderstanding

What if we separate Aelys’ entire skeleton from her how wonderful would that be (Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Ugh)

This whole convo is so redundant Aelys wants Godspeed to stay for some fucking reason

JB is just??? Resting beside AELYS??? SAKJNDHBFGREUIWOD;JHBFD

#idk whats happening but it seems bad #aka bony rda: a summary #yh this is WAY TOO LONG but at least its out of my notes app now #the takeaway here is that this is an insane piece of media which i am even more insane abt #also that JB x Aelys IS GOING TO BE CANON #caitlin binges bards #chapters 23-24 #regolus dark age #bony #bards of new york

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