#fantasy high blast from the passed
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verosvault · 11 months ago
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🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH SOPHOMORE YEAR!!!🚨
Dimension20 "Fantasy High Sophomore Year"
Episode 15 "Blast from the Passed"
Timestamp: 01:06:14
Video Length: 2min. & 3sec.
TOXIC MASCULINITY IS DEAD-AHHH!!! I DANCE NOWWW!!! ~Fabian Aramais Seacaster
This was such an ICONIC MOMENT!!! 😂😂👏👏 I LOVED IT SO FREAKING MUCH!!! 😂😂🤣🤣💀💀
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emiko-matsui · 1 year ago
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you can talk about ally all you want but the most satisfying nat 20 is ragh critting on dayne when he shows up in hell
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updatebug · 2 months ago
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Anyone else desperate for some Pok Gukgak POV of the meeting Riz in hell scene, or just me?
It was a relief to feign unconsciousness.
Pok was used to torture. It was part of the job. And for all that they had hellfire and menace, the denizens of hell it seemed, were no more inventive than the monsters he’d met in Spyre. Pok was very used to withstanding pain. And anyway, he’d been killed by a dragon. Fire was practically an old friend.
What he wasn’t used to was ‘Pok’ being tortured. All those others had been on the job, a different name, a different person, a person who didn’t have a wife or a son, who couldn’t have them used against him. His cover almost cracked when they brought up his wife and when they mentioned Ri – his son. His son who should have nothing to do with the horrors of this place, he fumbled his words, barely managing to recover before the pit fiend could notice a weakness.  
As they left the pit fiend snarled something about Seacaster and Pok filed that away in his mind for later as the door slammed shut. And then he was alone, slumped on the floor of hell and bleeding. One step closer to completing the mission.
A brief flicker of coolness, and then something in the room changed. Pok’s ears pricked at the faint sound of too-fast breaths as whoever had appeared in the room stood over him. An Imp, maybe? He was being moved? They had mentioned Seacaster.
The footsteps moved closer and the breaths hitched, a soft waver in the rhythm, and then there was click – a lock being opened. Pok was far too well trained to frown, and kept himself limp as whatever it was leaned over him. His nose twitched, a faintly familiar smell reaching it, ink and gun oil. A click from the door, followed by a snarl and the figure above him froze for a single moment, before reaching for Pok again. There was a scuffle above him, the scorching heat of a demon – wait, no, two of them – suddenly back and over Pok as the figure was pulled away. Pok cracked his eyes open and – no!
Riz.
It couldn’t be Riz.
One of the devils had his son by the scruff of the neck, pulling him back as his son twisted and tried to writhe free, panic on his face. In his hand he was clutching on open briefcase, the second devil holding the other handle as it tried to yank it way from him and Riz clung desperately, claws scratching against the leather. His other hand was still reaching for Pok.
A familiar calm fury washed over Pok.
He wasn’t armed. He didn’t need to be. Riz had visited the graveyard enough times – he knew where his son had kept his gun.
He slipped the arquebus out of its holster, felt the familiar weight of the gun in his hands for a second – fully loaded – and fired twice.
The devils fell backwards, Pok didn’t see them hit the floor, eyes fixed on his son’s face. Riz staggered as he was freed, staring back at Pok just as hungrily, there was blood on him, bruises on his skin, tears on his clothes. His eyes were red, like they were holding back tears – the cold from earlier, he’d misty stepped in, he’d been beyond the mirror, what had he seen? What had he heard? – Pok didn’t take his eyes off his son as he slapped his hand to his ear.
“This is Gukgak, I need an extraction.”
He barely waits for a response, letting of the little seed of angelic power that had been buried deep, deep beneath his ribcage and feeling the halo snap into place behind his head.
Riz’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open disbelief and profound relief storming across his face to be replaced by sheer delight. Pok reached out, grabbing his son’s shoulder finally, finally touching his son.
“Kid, I can’t believe you made it here,” he managed, holding his son tightly. The fear, the horror he had felt at seeing his son here, in hell, in the hands of those devils, buried beneath the sheer, overwhelming joy of just seeing his son.
“You’re an undercover angel?” Riz yelped.
“You got it kid,” Pok agreed, and celestial energy slammed into them, snatching them both away from that place.
Pok wrapped his arms tight, tight, tight, around his son, and let the light carry them away.
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18catsreading · 1 year ago
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Fig: I don't need protection from fire. I'm immune now. [Winks]
Ayda: you just winked at me. That's flirtatious. Incredible. Incredible, I'm distracted.
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occamstfs · 2 months ago
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Man Of Your Dreams
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Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.
Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam
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Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.
Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.
Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.
Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.
Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.
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Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?” 
Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”
Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.
He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended. 
The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.
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Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”
Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release. 
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He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust. 
Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”
The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.
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Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.
Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”
It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.” 
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As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.
Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become. 
He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.
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Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.
Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.
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littlest-w01f · 4 months ago
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Rita's
Feysand x Reader
FEYRE MASTERLIST
RHYSAND MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
Summary: Feyre is drunk, and the barmaid who opened her and her husband's tab that night looks sexier with every shot. Rhysand is more than willing to aid her drunken fantasy
CW: Fingering, Oral f!receiving, MxFxF, Smut 18+ MDNI
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A/N: part two Shifter for kinktober
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You're working at Rita's, serving drinks to a variety of patrons. One moment, you're pouring vodka for a couple, and the next, you're sliding over a glass of bourbon to a rugged-looking male at the end of the counter. The room hums with conversation, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses. Your hands move quickly, mixing drinks and wiping down tables as needed.
You laugh slightly, seeing your friend dancing on a makeshift stage nearby as drunk males and females whistled and hooted for the show she put on. While she was in barely any clothes you were dressed in a simple blouse and floor-length skirt, covering most of your skin except for your midriff and the exposing slit that showed a little of your right leg.
"Darling, right here," A voice calls to you while you're done cleaning up where a drunk patron had spilt his drink, you look up to see your High Lord and Lady occupying the seats diagonal to you.
You put on a smile and approach them. "Evenin', my Lady, my lord." You dip your chin in respect as Feyre waves her hand.
"Oh, no need for that." Feyre smiles, turning to Rhysand before turning back to you, giving you their orders.
With a nod, you start pulling out shot glasses and pouring a variety of colourful liquors into them. your fingers brush against each other as you pass the tray to the High Lord and Lady.
"Here you go, my lady," you say, your voice loud over the music blasting. As you step away, you can't help but steal glances at the pair. Feyre, with her mesmerizing beauty and Rhysand, whose aura of power is almost palpable.
As you continue to serve the rest of the night away, your eyes keep finding their way back to the High Lord and Lady, bringing them more shots and drinks. They seem engrossed in conversation, Feyre's laughter ringing out occasionally above the din of the crowd. Every so often, Rhysand would lean closer to her, his intense gaze never leaving her face. At one point, you notice Feyre looking at you, a small smirk playing on her lips, her eyes almost dark, which you blamed on the dim lighting.
Feyre looks up at you, as she had for most of the night, now leaning against Rhysand in her drunken state, her eyes meeting yours across the crowded bar. There's a spark there, a silent invitation that leaves your heart pounding in your chest. She gives you a small nod, barely perceptible under the loud music and general commotion around you.
Feeling emboldened by this unspoken signal, you begin making your rounds less frequently, staying closer to their table. Every so often, you'd catch Rhysand watching you with an unreadable expression, something that makes you burn at the pit of your stomach. When Feyre and Rhysand get up to walk out, you move to set some things back in their places, your shift ending for the night.
Rhysand stops by your side momentarily before disappearing towards the back hallway. A warm tingle runs through you at his brief touch, his whispered words barely audible over the noise "Meet us outside..."
As you leave the bar, your mind races with thoughts and possibilities. You glance around, looking for the High Lord and Lady, but they're nowhere in sight. Then, you hear Feyre's soft voice behind you, sending a jolt of surprise through your body.
"I hope you came willingly... Wouldn't want to force you into anything." Her voice is playful yet serious, holding a note of command that sends another thrill coursing through you.
"Yes. I... I came willingly." You nod and before you know it, Feyre has led you deeper into the alleyway, away from prying eyes and nosy patrons.
The cool air hits your face as Rhysand leans against the brick wall, crossing his arms. "She's been watching you all night," He murmurs, stepping closer until he's mere inches away from you.
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"I want you..." Feyre slurred, the alcohol in her breath, she moved closer to you, "Can I drink you?"
The corners of Rhysand's mouth twitch upwards into a knowing grin as he watches your reaction. "You may go back inside if you do not wish to," he says, "She's been eyes you the entire evening, craving you, if you're uncomfortable with it, I am more than capable of satisfying my mate." his voice is low and filled with amusement.
You swallowed, feeling trapped between the two powerful figures. But instead of fear, all you felt was a strange excitement course through your veins. "Yes, my lady," you agree, heart racing in your chest.
Feyre giggled, reaching up to cradle your face in her delicate hands. Her lips were soft and demanding as they crashed against yours, your chests pushed together causing you to groan, seeing the chance, her tongue snaking out to explore your mouth eagerly.
Meanwhile, Rhysand's large hands roamed over your curves from behind, tracing patterns up and down your arms before cupping your ass. You moaned into Feyre's kiss, arching into Rhysand's touch.
Feyre doesn't waste any time getting you out of your attire. Her nimble fingers fumble with the buttons of your blouse, pulling the fabric apart to reveal your perky breasts encased in a black lace. Meanwhile, Rhysand's skilled hands make quick work of pulling your skirt to your waist, leaving you standing with your blouse just handing off your shoulders and your skirt at your waist as Rhysand removes your lingerie with a wave of his hand.
"You're even more beautiful than I fantasised," Feyre purrs, running her hands down your sides and around to squeeze your hips, bringing them up to feel every inch of your body.
Rhysand whispered down your neck, "You're the first female she's ever wanted, doesn't that make you feel special darling?"
You gasp as you feel Rhysand's hot breath along your neck, your cheeks heating up despite the cold. "Y-yes," you stammer, your knees nearly buckling under the weight of their gazes but Rhysand holds you still by your thighs, spreading them for Feyre as she drops on her knees, licking her lips.
Feeling Feyre's hot breath ghost over your cunt, you bite your lip hard, whines still escaping, your body trembling as she parts your folds with her fingers, revealing your glistening cunt. With a low hum of approval, Feyre dips her head, her tongue darting out to taste you, experimental at first before she dives in, crazed at your sweet taste.
"Feyre please-" Your cries echo throughout the alleyway, filling the empty space with the sounds of your pleasure. Your juices run down Feyre's chin as she feasts on your cunt, her fingers digging into your thighs as you squirm beneath her.
"Feels winderful, doesn't it, darling?" Rhysand asks his mate as he continues to praise you, while he watches Feyre eat you out. His cock strains against his pants, tenting the fabric as he grinds himself against your ass. "That's a good girl"
"F-Fuck..." You whimper, your body writhing in ecstasy, not sure whether to thrust into Feyre's tongue or Rhysand's cock.
Your body trembles as Feyre's fingers delve into your soaking cunt at once, curling and twisting inside of you as she finds your sweet spot. Each flick of her wrist sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you cry out and grip Rhysand's arms for support.
"Oh fuck! Yes!" You scream, your walls clenching around Feyre's fingers as you edge closer to your orgasm. The sensation of having both Feyre's mouth and fingers on you at once pushes you over the edge, and with a final cry, you come hard, your juices dripping down Feyre's hand.
As Feyre stands, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Rhysand steadies you, keeping you upright as your legs wobble beneath you.
"Good girl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away to adjust his pants, his hard cock painfully evident.
Feyre smirks, "I hope you enjoyed that," she purrs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.
"I did..." You blush softly, watching Rhysand take a gentle hold of Feyre's hand, bringing her fingers wet with your release to his lips to clean them off.
He groaned as he cleaned Feyre's hand, turning to you while you were buttoning your blouse, "Now even I want a go at you." you paused, looking at him and Feyre.
Feyre's eyes were bright with glee at his suggestion, "Oh, you should come home with us," she held your hands, pulling you close to her, "We can have more fun."
You let out a shaky breath, "Yeah... I'd like that." Your response makes them both smile wide, holding to you, they winnow back to the river house.
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{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave}
{Rhysand Taglist- @yeonalie}
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thisisnotthenerd · 1 year ago
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and now the best battles of the intrepid heroes go head to head
feel free to give reasoning/propaganda as you like!
the sidequest poll
quick episode descriptions:
arcade ambush: fighting biz in the arcade. the failed perception checks. getting sucked in and out of the games. riz in the palimpsest. beating a nat 20 in the box of doom. shooting off biz's fingers on the count of three.
broadway brawl: the show must go on. misty having the performance of a lifetime. queen titania. i may be little but i am fierce. esther in the rafters. don confetti. ricky, naked, bodyrolling on misty. stephen sondheim riding a bear. subduing titania with a waist trainer.
blast from the passed: after the trial for gorthalax. completely indecipherable battle. bill seacaster kills gilear. johnny spells can't get a word in edgewise. statistically i have just a good a chance at rolling good as any of you. toxic masculinity is dead, i dance now! riz is blasted off the ship into the iron city of dis.
boys' night (Roll20Con): just the lads, going to a party, where they are supremely uncool. extorting gilear for alcohol [uncle pappy's dag nasty rocket hooch] emergency poem for ragh and corey. stealth mode down the highway. chungledown bim is back. fabian falling under the car with the liquor. warping space time and going to the lan party.
deep bleu sea: peppermint batman is invisible in the darkness. primsy is attacked. jet sends stilton to the bottom of the ocean. shenanigan time. the boats sinking and shifting. cumulous appears. throwing the cheese marauders to induce a dexterity check. can i use swirlwarden to get back into the boat. annabelle in the yogurt
treachery at gramercy: fighting around the umbral engine. ricky's bat counterspell. pete surges twice. cody is a mounted combatant who read dante's inferno. tony simos is a crazy level 20 open hand monk. pete has subtle spell. ricky says tony get fucked and does 90 damage. kingston's spirits of the city. sofia stunning everyone. cody meets lucifer and makes a new contract. sofia pulls dale out of the past and into the present.
battle of the brands: the gang buys truly so much stuff. you are required to do a certain amount of drugs. barry is the angel of mercy. the sisters of the cosmic veil having a bikini party. taking kublacaine. we are the ball. barry taking brutus to the finals on a nat 20. nat 20 death save from aurora nebbins. margaret speaks to the plinth and then is down to 1 hit point. skip crits on the plinth. free teleportation shenanigans are not allowed. gunnie casts explosion. barry rapid shots the plinth and does product placement. operation slippery puppet. am i getting ocean's'd 11'd on my own fucking show? what the fuck is happening? a real son of a bitch is no more. sundry sidney has saved the dog!
terror on toy island: a soft little touch. mer-king's insect plague. no daddy. pib getting the little guys. i'm so fucking scared! the water surges around the mer-king. the terrible dogfish is here. daddy-meter is spinning. pinocchio crits to figure it out. pinocchio screaming to wake the dead. it has asthma! and another thing, with the eyes! you were about to instantly die. gerard is wearing full chain mail in the ocean.. rosamund & ylfa are swallowed. the sea witch shows up. murph causes a nat 20. call of destiny. rosamund gets the eye with a seven. i'm a lion in the water. pib's acrobatic crit. one v. one.
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the-summ0ning · 1 month ago
Text
𓉸ྀི Linger 𓉸ྀི PART ONE
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Roomie!Nick Folio x Fem!introvert!Bookworm!Reader
Word count: 5.1k
Awkwardly avoiding your hot roommate after him walking in on you listening to your guilty pleasure was easy enough, you thought, until it wasn't. Not when you had all the same friends, and you were all in a cabin in the woods for Noah's birthday, and Nick shows up looking like said guilty pleasure.
!!!THIS PIECE IS PURE FICTION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE, NOT YOUR THING TURN AWAY. BUT AGAIN IT'S JUST FICTION AND NOT HOW THESE PPL ARE IRL!!!
CONTENT WARNINGS: swearing, recreational drug and alcohol use, awkward romcom moments, fluff, yearning.
A/n: hahah spooky season is upon us and I wrote this after I had insomnia for over 24 hours after the wildest week of having the flu a few weeks ago, and have been sitting on it debating if I wanted to post this. This could be a totally considered self-indulgent, maybe cringe, but oh well it's my digital footprint & I have to live with. But welcome to my first fic on this blog, and my first piece posted at least for the BO guys in general, had to show the cinnamon roll Folio love first. thank yewwww and enjoy
⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。°⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。
The universe had a painfully ironic sense of humor. Noah Sebastian and his friends, with their twisted embrace of clichés, unknowingly played right into its hands.
After years of running in the same circles, Noah had grown to resent sharing his birthday with Halloween—except for the rare occasions when he leaned into the theme completely. This year was one of those times. A slasher-themed party in a huge cabin in the woods for the weekend. Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.
If it weren’t for the fact that you’d promised months ago to make all the baked goods—long before you knew the party theme—and that his closest friend and bandmate happened to be your roommate, you would’ve bailed. But you were a good friend, one who loved your friends and kept your word. Even if it meant enduring the mortification of being around Folio, said roommate, fighting the urge to disappear into the woods every time he glanced or came in your direction.
Because Folio knew your dirty little secret.
One you hadn’t even shared with your closest girlfriends. A secret you’d intended to bury in the deepest corners of your feral little brain—until Folio, of all people, unearthed it. He’d come home early from a fishing trip because of a storm and found you in your natural state of debauchery: high, sprawled on the couch, blasting a dark romance smut audiobook through the living room’s soundbar to a concerning decibel. To make matters worse, it was during the most graphic part, and not just any audiobook—this one had sound effects. And masks. And filthy, filthy things.
You’d nearly combusted when you saw him standing in the doorway for who knows how long, looking bemused, at you giggling and quietly squealling into a throw pillow. You scrambled to pause the audio, but of course, the universe wasn’t on your side, and your phone took its sweet time. Long enough for him to hear everything. 
It’s not like you were about to do anything. You weren’t physically aroused, just mortified that he now knew what you listened to when he wasn’t around. Mortified as if his living room had been christened by your smut. Mortified he probably assumed you touched yourself to it when he wasn’t there—or worse, that it was some deep, dark fantasy of yours. No that totally wasn’t your guilty conscience projecting or anything.
You’d only lived with Nick for four months. Four months of being around him more than you ever had since meeting him through mutual friends years ago. Before this, you could count on both hands the number of times you’d been alone together. Not that there wasn’t any issues with him, you just considered the two of you as polar opposites to think he’d actually want to be around you or you’d have enough in common to pass the basis of ‘acquaintance’ or ‘mutual friend’.
He was funny, the kind of guy who made your cheeks hurt from laughing at his corny jokes. He was charming, with that Southern hospitality that always seemed to melt your insides, and his country twang made you melt just that much more. You hated how easily he could make your social anxiety melt away at parties, offering you a hit of his joint or a cigarette and small conversation when he noticed you hadn’t your usual friends you clung to. Confident, magnetic, always ready to be rowdy, a through and through extrovert, everything you were not.
You were an extroverted introvert–at best. A pessimistic optimist. An awkward rain shower on a sunny day. The house cat who only craved attention when it suited you, having zoomies when no one was watching.
That’s exactly what the embarrassing night felt like—your version of a cat caught in a burst of energy when it thought no one was looking. Except Folio was looking. And all he did was give you that dopey smile, the one with the gleam in his dark chocolate eyes, and made some smart-ass remark before disappearing into his room.
“So, this is what you do when I’m not around. Cute.”
As if he were the amused owner, catching his pet in the act.
He never brought it up again, but you both knew. And it gnawed at you. Maybe you were again projecting and he hadn’t thought much of it, but still!
And now, of all the costumes in the world, famous slashers, any other character from a horror movie, or crashed out and went with a basic t-shirt in the same vein of the theme of the party. No. He had chosen to wear a Ghostface mask. You, meanwhile, were dressed as a cheesy, slutty Casey Becker from Scream. It wasn’t planned. You’d done your best to avoid him the last two weeks, conveniently ever since the theme had been known to you. Quick hellos and goodbyes, or hasty exchanges with those days.
But tonight, at the party, there was no escaping him. Between leaving early before he even woke, helping with decorations, and playing the mom friend throughout the night for your own friends, you made yourself scarce. Dodging him became an art form. Until, of course, he cornered you.
You were about to refill Matt’s drink when Nick approached, his Ghostface mask pulled up. He tossed Matt’s empty cup, and handed you a cup of red jungle juice (with gummies shaped like body parts floating the mix of fruit of course), his hand casually settling on the small of your back, guiding you wordlessly toward the quieter part of the yard by the small shed by the brush of woods. The touch sent an unexpected chill through you, even though you tried to ignore it. You turned to protest, but he tapped his ear, signaling the blunt tucked behind it.
You rolled your eyes, laughing under your breath, and let him lead you to the shed. As much as you weren’t ready to talk to him, you hadn’t taken a break all night, and the excuse to get away from the crowd and babysit your friends was tempting. Your social battery ticking away faster than anticipated.
“Didn’t realize you were such a great party planner,” he said, leaning against the shed as he lit the blunt, his eyes catching under the faint glow of the solar lights.
You shrugged, struggling to keep your voice casual as your heart raced and cheeks warmed. His presence was overwhelming, making you hyper-aware of everything—the slight brush of his fingers when he passed you the blunt, the way his lips curled when he smiled. Even the music felt like it was conspiring against you, with Deftones' haunting melodies filling the background, stirring things inside you that you wished would stay buried.
“It was a group effort,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes to avoid his gaze. The warmth of his hand on your back lingered, leaving you unsettled in ways you weren’t prepared for. But when you glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure something out.
“Nah, I didn’t do anything. I’m just here to boost morale and be the life of the party,” he chuckled, though the sound felt a little forced. As if he was trying just as hard as you to keep things light, keep things normal. 
He passed the blunt back, and you took a hit, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about that night too. It had been weeks, but it still felt raw in the fiber of your being, especially now with the tension hanging between you.
“And I know half of these ideas were your asshole suggestions, after searching kid halloween party on Pinterest.” He added, smirking. “But they love it. Noah loves it.”
You smiled despite yourself, taking another hit quickly to hide it, the warmth of his compliment stirring something soft in your chest. “Glad to hear it. Sometimes I worry my trolling gets taken a little too seriously.”
“They thrive off it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. He gestured for you to keep the blunt, taking a swig of his drink instead. “All for you, bub. Roomie blunt.”
The nickname hit you harder than you wanted to admit, a surge of affection mixing with the ever-present tension. His voice, low and soft, carried a weight that made it feel more intimate than it should have. You swallowed, trying to push the feeling down. Deflect, deflect, deflect.
“Matching costumes and now roomie blunts?” You teased, though your voice sounded breathier than you intended. “Are we hitting new roommate milestones?”
He laughed, but it was quieter this time, almost shy. “Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.” He said almost apologetically, there was still an edge of smugness maybe arrogance. “I tried to wear a t-shirt with just Michael and Freddy on it, but Jolly told me to ‘piss off and I wasn’t wearing that to our best friend’s birthday party.’ Drove me to a Spirit before we picked Noah up, it was like the only thing left close to the theme.” He explained. “I didn’t even have a plain black shirt. Had to flip this inside out.”
“Oh Jolly said ‘fuck you thought’ for real.” You giggled, the effect of the cannabis hitting you as you rubbed the rough inseam on his shoulder that you failed to notice when he walked in tonight. It was comical and relieving to know this wasn't a jab at you now, and just a half-ass last minute idea--typical Folio fashion.
“Wait for it, wait for it,” he pointed a finger up. Balancing the cup rim between his teeth, his drink splashing on himself as he pulled his t-shirt up exposing his torso as he clumsily tugged his shirt toward you to see a print of Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger holding hands in a meadow.
Through puffs of smoke, you full out cackled, now holding his shoulder for support. “What? Did you think you were too tough to dress up for Nowah’s birthday party?” Mustering your best baby voice in between your wheezing, the tension breaking for a moment. But even as you laughed, your eyes lingered on him a second too long. On the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his dark ochre eyes seemed to trace your every movement, as if he were studying you, waiting for something. But then he pulled the mask down, breaking the easiness of the moment.
He smoothed his shirt down, mocking your laugh. “The fuck am I gonna do with this after?” 
Well…
Even with his shirt inside out, with alcohol spills staining it, and ash from your blunt speckling his clothes, the look did things to you--he looked good. The mask, the way he carried himself, all of it stirred something deeper. Your mind flashed back to that audiobook, to the night he caught you—and suddenly, the faceless man from the story wasn’t faceless anymore. It was Nick. It had always been Nick, lurking in the corners of your thoughts, even when you tried to deny it for several months before. You had buried the attraction you felt towards him well enough, denying that maybe your harmless crush was something more. Letting the term roommates be your boundary for him, not wanting to make an arrangement of living with an attractive acquaintance that you had festering feelings for even more awkward.
Despite your best efforts, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. And even though your mind screamed at you to say something, to make a joke, you were too caught up in the moment—the way his presence pressed into yours, the unspoken tension crackling between you like static.
You handed the blunt back, your fingers brushing a second too long with his, the touch jolting something within you. “I’m sure you can find other uses for it, Bub,” you said, but the words came out softer than you intended, almost like a promise.
For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand lingered near yours, his dark eyes searching your face, as if he was waiting for something—waiting for you to break the silence. The air between you felt heavy, charged, like the moment could tip in any direction. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breath coming a little too fast. You were standing so close now, the night’s sounds fading into the background. 
Your lips parted, wanting to say something, anything—but the words caught in your throat. Maybe this was your chance. Maybe you could make sure things weren’t as weird as you imagined it to be. Or maybe you could take that small step forward, close the gap between you, and see where it led.
But instead, you took a step back. 
“Thanks for the morale boost! Gonna go beg Ruffilo to play something less whiny and horny now!”
The moment stretched, taut and unspoken, as you turned away, nerves rattling inside you. You felt him watching you as you sauntered off, the weight of his gaze burning into your back, the unspoken tension still thick in the air.
Deflect! Deflect! Deflect!
But as you walked away, your heart still pounding, you knew the moment between you wasn’t over. Not really. It lingered, hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. And you couldn’t help but wonder if next time, you’d have the courage to step into it.
。⋆༺♱༻⋆。
Nick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he watched your denim skirt ride up slightly with each step you took away. He swallowed hard, the familiar pang of frustration settling in his chest. Admiring you from afar had become second nature to him, an unspoken routine he’d never quite managed to shake.
You perplexed him, right down to his core.
Every time he felt he was getting closer to understanding you, to unraveling the mystery of what made you so magnetic—you were gone. Slipping through his fingers just as quickly as you’d come into focus.
It had been that way since Matt and your friend first introduced you all those years ago. At first, he found your quietness cute—a stark contrast to the loud energy of your other friends. But as you started coming around more, he saw there was so much more beneath the surface. The dry wit, the easy charm you showed only to those closest to you, the way you seemed to light up in the right company. And then there was the obvious—he had been attracted to you from the moment he laid eyes on you.
But the more you intrigued him, the further away you seemed to drift, casting him aside without even realizing it. It gnawed at him, deeper than he liked to admit. Nick Folio wasn’t used to this—he could get anyone to open up, to be themselves around him with little effort. But you? You were a challenge he couldn’t crack, and it was driving him crazy.
It baffled him how Matt had convinced you to be roommates in the first place. Living together hadn’t helped his case at all—if anything, it made things worse. Since the moment he’d walked in on you listening to your smut audiobook, he could feel the shift, how you’d started shutting him out. He wasn’t oblivious to the way you avoided him now, keeping your distance, as though that moment had broken some invisible line between you.
But it hadn’t, not for him. If anything, he loved that glimpse of who you were outside the parties and hangouts. Seeing you comfortable, in your own space, high out of your mind, letting your guard down enough to geek out over something you clearly enjoyed.
Did you think it made him see you differently? Did you think that knowing your private little quirks would change how he felt?
If anything, it made perfect sense. A girl like you, attractive, smart, with a mind that clearly wandered far beyond the surface—you were bound to have something like that. Hell, now he understood why your nose was always buried in your Kindle. He’d probably be the same way if he had something that compelling.
He had hoped the blunt he’d offered earlier would serve as an olive branch, something to ease the tension between you. But now, watching you skitter away, retreating from him again, he wasn’t so sure.
“There’s the kingpin,” Noah grinned lazily, coming up beside him clapping him on the shoulder as Matt trailed behind.
Nick tried to muster a smile, but it was clear something was weighing on him, his usual carefree demeanor dulled by the conflict that tugged at him deep inside.
“What’s wrong Folio?” Matt was the first to ask.
“Nothing, just clearing my mind a bit.” He lied.
“Yeah, okay.” Noah snorted, trying to tug the mask on top of his head down. He was clearly tipsy, enjoying himself. “If you don’t want to talk about it, whatever—but I know what will really help clear your mind.” The lazy grin turned sinister.
The drummer merely raised his eyebrow waiting for an answer.
“Manhunt—slasher style.”
。⋆༺♱༻⋆。
Would it really be a slasher-themed birthday party if Noah hadn’t forced the remaining guests into a game of manhunt, despite how dark it was and how most people were borderline drunk? No, only Noah would think this was still a good idea. You didn’t mind, though. It distracted you from your exchange with Nick—finding hiding spots, giggling quietly, getting chased, and chasing your friends around. It felt cathartic, especially in your tipsy, cross-faded state.
Noah was too far gone to establish real ground rules anyway. The only rule was that nobody hid past the brush of the woods, and he was always the seeker. Brush, cabin, shed, backyard—fair game for your large group of friends. It was the third and final round now, and most of you were out of breath, legs aching, too close to rolling an ankle in the dark. The adrenaline was wearing thin, and the nostalgia for childhood games had run its course. You were all gonna feel the aftermath of this in the morning.
“Once you're found, head to the fire pit, pop a squat, and call it quits for the LOVE of god,” Matt groaned, hands on his hips, out of breath.
With all the cabin’s lights off, the vast space was hard to navigate. Maybe calling it a cabin was underselling it. This was a huge luxury lodge, a weekend splurge to comfortably fit the group with several bedrooms and rooms to hide in. You’d found a bedroom on the second floor at the end of the hall, away from everyone else, deciding to hide alone instead of pairing up like some of the others. You didn’t want to change your spot like you had the other two rounds you played outside. This was it, and you’d let whoever come to you to find you.
You weren’t sure who’d claimed the room earlier in the night when everyone arrived, but it didn’t matter now. The large bed in the center had ample space underneath for you to squeeze under. The bed skirt fell perfectly, hiding you completely as you curled up, knees pressed against your chest, mouth against the sleeve of your knitted sweater to stifle any sound.
Your heart pounded as you heard the seekers stomping clumsily through the halls, doors creaking open, followed by screeches of defeat from your friends as they were found. Finally, Noah and Davis's triumphant laughter echoed through the house, growing distant as they led the captured outside.
For a moment, you thought you were safe. You let out the breath you'd been holding, relaxing slightly. The steady thrum of your heartbeat began to slow, and you debated slipping out the back door to claim victory, imagining the disappointed faces of Noah, Davis, and the rest when you emerged triumphant telling them to suck it.
But then you heard it—a single set of footsteps at the end of the hall. You froze. Your pulse roared in your ears as a familiar laugh echoed down the corridor.
“You guys suck at this game!” Nick’s voice rang out, smug and teasing. Faint bickering followed from outside, Noah and Davis shouting back that they were done, ready to drink by the fire.
Nick scoffed. “Fuckin’ amateurs didn’t even check my room. There’s still people hiding!”
You tensed, silently praying, Please, don’t be in his room. Please, don’t let this be his room.
But your luck had run out. You heard the door handle turn with an agonizing slowness, the door creaking open.
“Bryan, I swear, if you’re making out with your girlfriend in my room instead of hiding—” Nick’s voice trailed off as he stepped inside. You could hear his confusion as he scanned the seemingly empty room. It was his room, of course. The one place you’d somehow ended up hiding.
You bit your lip, heart pounding in your chest as he walked around. His footsteps were soft, deliberate. The room was dark, but you could see the faint glow of his phone’s flashlight as he swept it around, peeking under the desk, inside drawers—absurd places no one could possibly fit.
You started to hope he might give up. His footsteps retreated toward the door, and you exhaled softly, relaxing ever so slightly, your body tense from being curled up so tightly.
But then you heard the closet door swing open with a creak. “Got you!” he shouted abruptly, his voice playful. You jumped, your head hitting the wall behind you with a soft thud. You bit down harder on your sleeve to stifle any sound, praying he hadn’t noticed.
The door closed again, and there was a long silence. Then his voice dropped lower, a teasing edge creeping into it.
“I knew there was a little mouse in here.”
Your eyes flew open in shock, blood rushing to your face. No way. Was it just coincidence? Or had he somehow found out—about the pet names in your books, about your... tastes? Did he find your Goodreads somehow?! You screwed your eyes shut tighter, wishing you could disappear.
Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed your ankle and yanked you out from under the bed. You shrieked as you tumbled out, blinking into the blinding light of Nick’s phone. He was doubled over, laughing, thankfully with no Ghostface mask on.
“Where the hell did you get that from?!” you demanded, fed up, voice hushed but furious.
He was still chuckling, genuinely confused. “Get what from?”
“‘Little mouse?’” you hissed, jabbing a finger into his bare chest since he discarded his shirt after the first round. “What the hell is that?”
He raised his hands in surrender, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t know! It just seemed fitting.”
“You didn’t snoop through my bookshelf?” you accused, heart racing for entirely different reasons now.
His brow furrowed. “Why would I go through your bookshelf? Where’s this coming from?”
“You know where!”
“I don’t, though!” His voice softened, growing more serious. “You really think I would go through your stuff?”
You hesitated, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I don’t know... you caught me listening to my smut—”
Nick had the audacity to huff a laugh, and it sent your blood boiling all over again.
“It’s not funny, Nick!” You glared at him, horrified by how quickly this night was spiraling out of control. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go tonight.
“It’s not,” he agreed, but his grin remained. “But it kind of is. Because that just confirmed everything I thought.”
You crossed your arms, defensive. “What did you think?”
“That you got weird about me seeing you... be yourself.”
You scoffed. “I did not.” You did.
He said your name quietly, and it made you look at him, caught by the softness in his voice. “I don’t care that you were geeking out over some dirty audiobook. I thought it was cute.”
“I was not.” Your face burned. “And it’s not cute.”
“What would you call it then? Fangirling?”
You grimaced, crossing your arms tighter. “No.”
Nick exhaled, leaning against the desk. “Look, I’m not trying to make this a thing. Relax, okay?”
But relaxing was impossible with him standing there, shirtless, casual like he hadn’t just crawled into your head. He was so nonchalant, while you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something far more dangerous.
Finally, he turned on the lamp in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he gestured to the bed. “Can we sit? I’m not trying to argue, and my legs are tired.”
You stared at him, defiant for a moment longer, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed. He rolled the desk chair up to you, knees nearly brushing, close enough that the warmth of his skin made the air between you thrum.
“You’re a brat, you know that?” he teased, his voice low.
“I’m not a brat,” you muttered, looking down at your lap, “I’m just... embarrassed.”
The silence stretched between you, heavy, until Nick broke it with a sigh. “I said the wrong thing. But I called it cute because... let’s face it, I know you, but I don’t *know* you.”
You glanced up at him through your lashes, his face softer now. The tension in his shoulders had eased, and his eyes held something you couldn’t quite name.
“I could say the same,” you admitted quietly.
“Yeah, but I’m a simple guy.” Chortling to himself. “Half my body shows almost all my special interests.” He gestured to his tattoos, the ones you’d seen countless times but never really looked at until now, trying to avoid finding yet another reason to be drawn to him. “You? You’re a mystery to me. I’ve known you for years, and lived with you for months, but I’ve never seen you just... let your guard down. Sure, in rare passing moments that I wished I could see more of, because I love seeing you light up when you talk.”
Your heart twisted at his words, warmth creeping up your chest, but before you could respond, he added, teasing, “Now I know you’re the quiet girl who secretly geeks out over porn—”
“Nick!” You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands, the heat on your cheeks unbearable.
Nick laughed softly, tugging your hands away from your face, his grip warm and grounding as his thumbs traced gentle patterns over your knuckles. "Relax, relax, it's our secret," he murmured, his voice softening into something almost tender.
Your heart raced, pulse quickening as the air between you thickened with unspoken tension. His laughter faded into a quiet intensity, and for a moment, the space between you felt charged, like you were both standing at the edge of something neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.
"I like it... that we have a secret just between us," he confessed, his voice quiet and uncertain, as if he wasn't sure how you'd react.
His words hung in the air, and you froze for a beat, the weight of them sinking in and nearly taking your breath away. When you looked up at him, his brown eyes-usually playful-were filled with something deeper.
There was a warmth there, an affection that made your stomach flip as you watched him nervously lick his lips.
Your face felt hot, and you weren't used to being in such an intimate moment with him, your hands still held in his. But despite the closeness, you weren't uncomfortable. If anything, you realized how close the two of you actually were when his eyes dropped to your lips, and your pulse fluttered even faster.
When he started to lean in, your body moved instinctively, meeting him halfway. His lips brushed against yours-soft, tentative, and a little chapped from the night's activities, but sweeter than you could have imagined. The faint taste of jungle juice lingered on both your mouths, and his hands stayed gently on yours, as if he was afraid to push further.
Hesitant, like he thought you'd pull away any second.
But you didn't want to run this time.
The kiss, as surprising as it was, had a way of grounding you-settling the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling in your mind.
You found yourself pulling your hands free from his and sliding one up to the nape of his neck, your fingers grazing the buzzed part of his hair, while the other rested on his shoulder, gently tugging him closer. Your touch seemed to ease his hesitation, and he responded with a firmer grip on your waist, his hands warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss.
The tension of the past weeks, all the uncertainty and confusion, melted away in his touch. His lips fit perfectly against yours, and as he grew more confident, the kiss became less restrained, his hand gripping your waist tighter as he gently guided you back onto the mattress. You both smiled into the kiss, the weight of his body pressing down on you, though he propped an arm by your head to keep from crushing you entirely.
In that moment, with the world outside fading away, you were in a kind of bliss you hadn't felt in so long. The feel of his lips, his warmth, the way his tongue softly brushed against yours-it was all-consuming, and you could have stayed there all night, wrapped up in him.
"Did Y/N kill you, Nick?!" Noah's drunken laughter rang through the wooden door, followed by the sound of Davis and one of your friends giggling along with him. The sudden intrusion startled you both, and you froze, your breath catching as the door handle rattled.
Nick groaned quietly, reluctantly pulling away from you, the absence of his touch making you ache in a way you hadn't expected. You quickly sat up, trying to smooth your hair and fix your sweater, your cheeks still flushed as you glanced over at him. He, on the other hand, seemed unbothered, walking casually to the desk to grab the half-smoked blunt from earlier before making his way to the door.
"We were just deciding if we wanted to finish this," Nick said coolly, holding up the blunt as he opened the door, playing it off like the two of you hadn't been making out just moments ago. His calm demeanor caught you off guard, while you were sure guilt was written all over your face-your hair messy, your cheeks still warm, and your sweater slightly askew as much as you made yourself presentable.
Your friend peered over Nick's shoulder with a playful smirk, narrowing her eyes at you.
"Without us? How rude. You're now officially obligated to share-let's go."
Nick shot you a sheepish smile before offering his hand, extending it toward you as the others started to head back down the hall, unaware of what had just transpired between the two of you.
You hesitated for a second, your heart still racing, before taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. The moment might have been interrupted, but the charged energy between you was far from gone.
The universe did have a painfully sick sense of humor after all.
。⋆༺♱༻⋆。
A/n: pls lmk your thoughts as writing this I had so many ideas of how I wanted this to go, and the ending was weaker than intended but this is what I got after being up for over 24 hours 🤷🏼‍♀️ but I will be writing a part two 👹
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operationslipperypuppet · 1 year ago
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1: Baggin’ it with Balnor: Loud Libraries, Questionable Drug PSAs, and Staying Fit w/ Pendergreens (NADDPOD Aug 5, 2020)
2: Clash of the Corn Cuties (Fantasy High, Ep. 2)
3: “…AS ANY OF YOU” Blast from the Passed (Fantasy High: Sophomore Year, Ep. 15)
4: (finishes with “Only thing that could take us out was a trip to the zoo.”) Rolling up the Hill (A Starstruck Odyssey, Ep. 2)
5: (he misspoke, had to walk back everything, and didn’t remember what it was from. this was after 10 unrelated off topic minutes on the Flintstones.) D&D Court: Bonus Cases - King Robert Can Klump (w/ Ally Beardsley) (NADDPOD Short Rest Jun 24, 2022) [this is a Patreon-exclusive but it’s so unhinged i needed to include it]
6: (including writing a letter to his former wife and expecting her to read it while he watches, then ending the conversation with this song) Leap of Faith (Neverafter, Ep. 15)
7: Everyone else gave a number that was less than 5. Murph thought they were all crazy for saying numbers so low. He said sixteen. Hearthside Chat Q&A: What’s Your Clown Tolerance? (NADDPOD Short Rest, Oct 1, 2021) [this is also a Patreon-exclusive and it’s soooo goddamn ridiculous]
8: Cult of the Trident, thinking a child was named Nana, there’s literally too much to name Trinyvale x Bahumia Mini Arc: Eps. 1-3 (NADDPOD Feb 10, 17, & 24, 2023)
9: Donkey Kong One-Shot: A Bananksgiving Special (NADDPOD, Nov 27, 2019)
10: I’m literally so sorry there are so many moments, the man is insane. if you choose this, tell us what moment, and include the episode title/source/date so we can all enjoy the unhinged moment.
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ultimateinferno · 1 year ago
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In the episode Blast from the Passed, they laugh so hard from Murph Murphing a roll that they broke a stitch from top surgery, so the actual possibility of Ally being on something is relatively high.
we talk a lot about kristen using a ribbon to try to fly out of a tower (grappling hook whatever) but thats not half as insane as what she does right after when brennan says "okay. you are lying on the ground with broken bones after falling out of ten stories. you have three hit points. what is your action?" and ally, unprompted and insane, manages to choke out "i cast zone of truth". tears are streaming down my face.
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jadelion · 7 months ago
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All Fabadine moments in Fantasy High Sophomore Year:
(Freshman Year)
Fantasy High LIVE in Brooklyn:
Fabian asks Adaine if she's as freaky as her sister.
Fantasy High LIVE at RTX Austin:
Adaine is the only one to ask where Fabian is.
Episode 1 - Sophomores Start:
Adaine and Fabian text eachother about not being sure if taking Ragh is a good idea.
Episode 2 - Mirror Madness:
Fabian offers to give Adaine a knife.
Episode 4 - Heartache On the Celestine Sea:
Fabian and Adaine try to explain rich people things to the rest of the group.
Fabian is unsure about the idea of sleeping in the van, but when Adaine expresses excitement he says okay.
Episode 5 - Leviathan Rock City:
Adaine backs Fabian up when the pirates don't think he's very piratey.
Episode 7 - The Friendship Section:
Adaine gives Fabian Boggy to help comfort him about the events of the previous night.
Adaine is very concerned for Fabian.
Adaine: "You have so much more than just being your father's son."
Adaine: "None of us are friends with you because you're Bill Seacaster's son. We're friends with you because you're Fabian."
Honestly, Adaine does most of the work of trying to build Fabian back up.
Adaine takes Fabian's eyepatch out of his pocket and puts it on him.
Episode 10 - The Dangerous Mind of Aelwyn Abernant:
Adaine gives Fabian Fandrangor.
Episode 12 - Crustaceans & Crushes:
Both Adaine and Fabian prefer blini and caviar to crab nachos.
Episode 13 - Hellbound:
Adaine joins Fabian on the Hangman as they prepare to enter Hell.
Episode 14 - Daddies & Demons:
Fabian is disappointed about not being able to tease Ayda. Adaine responds with that it will still be fun to tease Fig, he agrees.
Episode 15 - Blast From the Passed:
When Johnny Spells and his gang challenge Fabian to a dance fight Adaine uses mending to make his sheet really beautiful.
Fabian thanks Adaine after she throws Johnny Spells off the ship.
Posh squad.
Episode 17 - The Forest of the Nightmare King:
After Gorgug lightly makes fun of Fabian's battle sheet and he gets annoyed by it Adaine says that she likes the sheet.
Episode 19 - Spring Break! I Believe In You! (Part 1):
Adaine asks Fabian to come with her to go get Aelwyn. He agrees.
If you have anything I missed tell me and I'll add it!
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18catsreading · 1 year ago
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Gilear: captain Seacaster my name is Gilear Faeth, is there a safe place to hide?
Cap Seacaster: hahaha, for the honorless dog that fucked my wife? No. [Brennan]: and shoots Gilear in the chest
Fig: what?? No!!
Fabian: Papa!
...
Zac: did Gilear level up with us?
Brennan: [sounding outraged] no!
...
Emily: is he fully dead?
Brennan: fully dead he took 20+ points of damage
Riz: You can't just kill Gilear Captain Seacaster
Cap Seacaster: why? Fabian killed me and no one's mad about that
Fabian: Papa. You've clearly gone full demon and that's fine.
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simply-whump · 1 year ago
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Tale of the Nine-Tailed 1938 ( 구미호뎐 1938) - Whump List
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Whumpee : Lee Yeon played by Lee Dong Wook, Lee Rang played by Kim Bum and Cheon Moo Young played by Ryu Kyung Soo
Synopsis : An unexpected case leads Lee Yeon back in time to 1938, where he reencounters Ryu Hong Joo. Once a guardian spirit of the mountain in the west, she's now the owner of a high-end restaurant in the capital city of Gyeongseong. He also meets his younger brother Lee Rang. Meanwhile, another former guardian spirit and ex-friend Cheon Moo Young has become hostile. Lee Yeon struggles to return to the present, to his loved one. (MDL)
Genres : Historical, Romance, Fantasy
Warning! Possible spoilers below!
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Lee Yeon
Ep 1 : Tied with a rope, at gunpoint (semi-comedic), frees himself, shot, falls to the ground, gets back up unscathed, shot again multiple times — Shot at with some sort of  bazooka, blasted through a shed, shot at — Thrown away by an explosion blast — Drugged, vision blurry, passes out— Wakes up tied up — Lets himself get stabbed by an axe — Worried for Rang — Fighting, choked — Fighting, thrown against a tree, sliding down
 Ep 2 : Punched — Fighting, choked
Ep 3 : Has a nightmare (is actually attacked by some sort of monster) — Suddenly becomes blind, attacked, protected — Wearing a blindfold — Pinned to a couch — Attacked, fighting while blind, side cut —Shot at, arm cut, leg cut, arm cut again, leg pierced by an arrow, falling to the ground, in pain, pulls the arrow out — Eyes bleeding, in pain, can finally see again
Ep 4 : Fighting Moo Young, stopping a blade with his bare hand
Ep 5 : None
Ep 6 : Fighting Moo Young, stabbed (more like impaled) by a sword, sword pulled out violently, bleeding from the mouth, barely standing, groaning in pain, collapses unconscious — In bed unconscious, healed with magic — Drugged?, wakes up tied with a rope
Ep 7 : Choked — Cut by a sword, grabs a sword with his bare hand, choked 
Ep 8 : None
Ep 9 : Fighting Moo Young — Surrounded by poisonous gas
Ep 10 : Gets his body switched with an old man
Ep 11 : Real body stabbed — Gets switched back to the right body, collapses on one knee — Collapses exhausted — Bandaged wound starts bleeding, realises he is in an illusion — Hypnotised — Hit on his wound, crying out in pain — Wincing in pain, holding his wound — Carried — Worried for Moo Young, crying, emotional 
Ep 12 : Fighting, in an explosion, coughing, choked with magic — Teary eyed, hugging his brother
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Lee Rang
Ep 1 : Tied to a pole — Gets stabbed in the back, bleeding from the mouth, collapses, concern for him, passes out in his brother’s arms — Carried unconscious — Unconscious in bed, dying — Wakes up as a ghost ?! — Unconscious body taken hostage
Ep 2 : Fighting 
Ep 3 : Hit by a dart, passes out — Tied up in a well with water slowly rising, struggling — Still struggling inside the well, helping someone while almost drowning — Underwater, unconscious, drowning, given air (you know how) — Wakes up, coughing water
Ep 4 : In bed, looked after
Ep 5 : Shot at, cut by a sword
EP 6 : None
Ep 7 : Attacked by a very powerful monster — Cut and stabbed with knifes by an enemy he can’t see, bleeding from the mouth, keeps getting cut — Saved
Ep 8 : Depressed, emotional, crying — Betting his lifespan, losing, has less than a day to live, weak, concern for him — Very weak, collapses
Ep 9 : None
Ep 10 : Surrounded by monsters — Worried for someone — Fighting monsters, struggling, scratched and bitten, poisoned 
Ep 11 : Poisoned, worried for someone, concern for him, drinks the antidote — Worried for someone, screaming, blaming himself, crying
Ep 12 : Worried for someone — Fighting, getting thrown around and beaten up, concern for him, choked, stepped on, remembering traumatic past, worried for someone, collapses on one knee after using a lot of power — Crying, hugging his brother
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Cheon Moo Young
Ep 1 : Beaten up (brief)
Ep 2 : None
Ep 3 : Stuck by lightning, collapses
Ep 4 : Fighting Lee Yeon — In pain, showed that part of his body is made of stone
Ep 5 : Suddenly in pain, collapses, grabbing his chest
Ep 6 : Fighting Lee Yeon, stabbed with a sword — Drugged?, wakes up tied with a rope
Ep 7 : Emotional, angry — Cut by a sword, stabbed, sword twisted, choked 
Ep 9 : Fighting Lee Yeon — Surrounded by poisonous gas
Ep 10 : Poisoned, spitting blood — Unsteady, collapses — Weak, given the antidote
Ep 11 : Frozen, unfreezes himself, fighting, thrown around, worried for someone, squeezed, screaming in pain, bleeding from the mouth, restrained, collapses — Asleep in bed — Choked — Walking very unsteadily, heavily wounded, collapses, found, concern for him, passes out — Unconscious, treated — Wakes up — Emotional, crying, heart stopped, collapses, dying, found, concern for him, dies
Ep 12 : Revealed that he was actually saved and survived
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Bonus whumpee: Yoo Jae Yoo played by Han Gyu Won
Ep 12 : Imprisoned as a hostage — Hit, slapped, manhandled — Injected with a dangerous poison, tied with ropes to a tree, hostage, tortured to make him scream, screaming in agony, concern for him, untied, screaming in pain, attacking a loved one against his will (controled by the poison), momentarily regains his clarity, in pain, stabs himself to stop himself, lots of concern for him — Dying, concern for him — Still dying, concern for him, saved
>> More Whump Lists
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vladdyissues · 9 months ago
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What do you think about au where Danny and Vlad are both teens? I know, there're some variants of this (from Friend From the Other Side to Vlad-befriended-with-Danny-only-for-his-hot-mom), so, I'd like to hear your version.
I actually really like this idea and had a blast drawing it for last year's Pompep Week prompt "Both Teens" (see below)
I'd planned on writing a short fic to go along with it when it came time to post everything on AO3, but I never managed to get too far. That WIP takes place in Danny's timeline (2004), where Vlad is a new kid in class. The working title is The New Kid (lol), which you can see here on my WIP "sort of" masterlist. And since no one asked about that one for the WIP game, here's a snippet:
“What’s your name?”
The boy hesitated. “Vlad.”
Danny’s heart sank. This kid was bully fodder for sure. “Wow. Uh, that’s—”
“Yes, I’m American. Yes, I was born in this country and speak English. No, I’m not a vampire,” the boy named Vlad snapped. 
Danny backpedaled. “It’s okay. I was gonna say it’s a pretty cool name.”
Vlad stared, head cocked and one eye narrowed.
“Yeah. Names that start with V are cool. Valentine, Vincent…”
“You must like Final Fantasy 7.”
After a startled pause, Danny laughed. “Yeah, I walked into that one, didn’t I? What about you? You play video games?”
“A little. Mostly arcade stuff. I’m pretty good at Mortal Kombat.”
Probably poor, Danny decided. “There’s an arcade here in town. I mean, if you don’t already know. They’ve got some good deals if you play by the hour.” He almost offered to meet up there sometime, then he realized he hadn’t even introduced himself. “Um, I’m Danny. Danny Fenton.” He pointed. “Those are my friends, Sam and Tucker. We were wondering if you wanna come sit with us.”
Vlad seemed tempted but cautious. “Really?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, they’re cool. Besides, you’re fresh meat sitting out here by yourself. The jocks’ll destroy you if they catch wind. C’mon, safety in numbers.”
“I’m not afraid of anyone.”
“Oh, you will be, trust me. Dash Baxter thinks it’s his personal duty to welcome every new student to Casper High by giving them a super wedgie, and you don’t even wanna see what he’s like when he’s in a bad mood.”
“Wow. Guy sounds like a fucking troglodyte.”
The smoothness with which the F-bomb was delivered stunned Danny for a few seconds. But then he smiled, invigorated by the sharp, cynical intellect he’d just discovered. “A total fucking troglodyte.”
A beat passed, then Vlad shouldered his backpack and gathered his lunch.
While I mostly prefer older Vlad and younger Danny because of the uneven power dynamic, it's fun to level the playing field every now and then and let them be the same age.
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asexual-disaster · 11 months ago
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So previously I’d only watched season 1 and maybe 8 episodes of season 2 of fantasy high. So this is my first time watching it fully and I just finished ‘blast from the passed’ and when I tell you I SCREAMED AND THE ENDING
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crystalninjaphoenix · 1 month ago
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A Respite
Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Forty-Two
A JSE Fanfic
The chapter's on the shorter side this week. For me, at least, haha. It's only about 5000 words. I've been busy doing seasonal Halloween stuff. Honestly there wasn't much to cover in this chapter, anyway. After the revelation about the spirit, the guys regroup, getting more information from the ghost of King Sam. They camp for the night, and Chase tries to visit Jack in his dreams again, while Jackie expresses some worries he's been having. And yeah. It's a fairly simple chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it regardless ^-^
Previous Part | | From the Start | More AU | Read on AO3: CrystalNinjaPhoenix
Taglist: @brokentimewatch
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chase sat on the edge of the steep, cliff-like hill, looking down into the blasted heath, staring at the cabin and the strange trees in the center. It was hard to believe what they’d learned in there. He looked down at the mask in his hand, tilting it back and forth, watching the golden glitter sparkle in the light. He’d just finished telling the others everything that the Horned Elder One had conveyed to him. Everything about the true origin of the spirit who’d been possessing the King.
“This is... so hard to believe,” Jackie said, leaning back against a tree, his arms folded. “How could none of us have heard of this before?”
“Well, there’s that magic causing the spirit’s identity to be unspeakable,” Marvin said. He was also sitting on the ground, with Draco in his lap, purring. “That’s the reason.”
“No, I know that,” Jackie said. “I know that. In my thoughts, I know that. But it’s hard to accept. King Sam is a legend. His stories have been repeated for ages, over and over! Everyone knows about King Sam.” He glanced at the ghost standing nearby. “Uh...”
King Sam smiled slightly. {Thank you. It’s very interesting to know that I’m still held in such high regard.}
“Of course you are,” Jackie said, awkwardly reassuring him.
What’s your point, Jackie? Jameson asked. Surely you’re not having such a hard time grasping the concept of this strange magic. Even if we’ve never heard of it before, it seems easy enough to figure out. Nobody could say anything about Sam’s brother before now.
“Well I just... I think there would have been some signs, wouldn’t there?” Jackie asked. “We have tapestries of King Samuel, but none of his brother?”
“Perhaps...” Henrik, pacing back and forth, spoke slowly. “Perhaps there are some signs of him, but not many. After all, Samuel lived long ago. Before the alphabet from the east had fully taken hold. So there would not be many writings about him. And in terms of art, well, again, it was a long time ago. Things do not last that long. All the tapestries and songs we have about King Samuel now are based on legends that were passed down from mouth to mouth, over generations.”
Chase looked over at Sam. “Can you... try to explain?”
Sam hesitated. {I can try, but I cannot promise how clear or easy it will be to understand. The unspeakable still has a hold on me.}
“Why?” Jackie asked. “The rest of us can say Aneirin’s name!”
{One thing at a time, please.} Sam held up a hand. {Let’s start with why none of you knew it. I think Henrik’s explanation is pretty accurate. After all... stories change within just a few weeks. Is it hard to believe that some things could be forgotten over hundreds of years?}
“I can understand that,” Marvin said, nodding. “But I’m curious. What... caused this unspeakable magic? Did Aneirin cast it himself? Did the Elders do it? Did you do it, or did you just try to say your brother’s name one day and found you couldn’t?”
{The Elders did not do it,} Sam confirmed. {And neither did I. Either it was a natural reaction from the world, or it was intentionally done.}
“Why would this Aneirin want to be unspeakable?” Henrik wondered.
Probably because it would be easier to operate in secret, Jameson said. He looked at Sam. Was it... like how Marvin said, then? You just one day were unable to mention him?
Sam nodded slowly. {I once tried to speak to a friend of mine about... about the matter. But my throat closed up. And everyone else was the same. Weavers who tried to make tapestries found their fingers stilling. When we began to try and write things with this new alphabet thing, feeling that records would be important, we could not chisel in the letters that spelled... certain things. We talked around the subject. We all knew what we meant, exchanging specific looks. But over time... it became less important. The world moved on. And I could not tell new people I’d met about certain things. And so, the memory died quickly.}
“That’s... that’s sad,” Chase whispered. “To be forgotten so soon.”
“Hey, this spirit is possessing the King!” Jackie said. “He’s done so many terrible things while possessing him! I’ve seen warriors harass farmsfolk to pay taxes that they can’t afford, encouraged by direct orders from the King. He’s trying to build a navy! Probably to sail off and declare war on other kingdoms. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”
Chase’s head snapped up to look at him. “I know! I saw him try to kill Sam! His own flesh and blood. Clearly, a man like that, and a man who went to such lengths to get power, does not deserve sympathy.” He sighed. “Still... it’s a terrible thing. And in the end, it’s hurt us more than helped us, hasn’t it? After all, maybe if we knew about Sam’s traitor brother, something would’ve been different.”
Jameson shrugged. I think we wouldn’t have expected the spirit to be him, anyway. Who would expect that?
Marvin nodded slowly. “While people can become ghosts, possessive spirits are different things. And even if people could become possessive spirits, those types of spirits can’t cast spells like the King could. That lightning that Chase and Jameson said he threw at them. And magic doorways. I think we can confidently conclude that the magic doorway that sent the warriors to Wyvernlair was done by this Aneirin.”
Jackie pointed at him. “Okay, that brings me back to a question I asked earlier. Why can we say Aneirin’s name but King Sam cannot?”
Sam shrugged. {Perhaps the Elders were able to cut through that magic for you. Or perhaps it is weaker now than it used to be when it had a hold on the rest of us. Perhaps it is both, combined.}
Chase stared off into the distance, once again looking at the cabin. “It wouldn’t be the first time magic hasn’t affected me. The King tried to command me once, with enchantment. He wasn’t able to.”
{I know that that, for sure, is because of the Horned Elder One,} Sam said. {They’ve paid close attention to you. Chosen you to help. And as someone chosen by the guardian of wild, uncontrollable places... well, naturally, you can’t be controlled.}
Chase blinked. He looked back down at his mask. It still felt strange that one of the Elders chose him for this. They clearly thought he could do it. But...
Well... he hoped that he wouldn’t let them down.
Some time passed in silence. Then Henrik cleared his throat. “Well. Now that we know all that we came here to know... do we just trek back through the Wyldwood?”
Jackie pursed his lips. “That dullahan might still be in the area. I don’t know if we should leave in this direction. Maybe we cross this heath and get up at the opposite end so we can circle around it by a wide berth.”
“We only have half a day of daylight left,” Chase said. “And we... I-I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t think I’m going to be... fully alert while walking. My mind is definitely going to be stuck on this subject. And if the Wyldwood has proven anything, it’s that you need to be alert.”
Are you saying we camp for the rest of the day? Jameson asked.
“Yes. And leave early in the morning.”
Marvin frowned. “I have no objections to that. Well... I have one objection. Can we not camp in this... clearing? It makes me uneasy.”
“Oh yea, I was thinking we’d stay on the edge like we are now,” Chase said. “I don’t want to go back down there, either.”
“Let’s circle around it, then.” Jackie pushed away from the tree. “King Samuel, will you be... coming with us?”
{I can walk to your new camp with you, if that’s what you mean,} Sam said. {But if you’re asking me to follow you on your journey, I cannot.}
“Are you bound to this location?” Marvin asks.
{In a way—}
“Can we walk and talk?” Jackie interrupted—then immediately looked like he regretted that. “Uh, my apologies, King.”
Sam laughed. The sound rang in their thoughts like the memory of wind chimes. {Don’t be so formal, Jackie. Just calling me Sam is fine. I’m no longer the King. A dead man can’t rule over anything, regardless of if he possesses the living.}
Chase got to his feet. “You’re right. That’s not his right anymore, no matter what he thinks he deserves.” He sighed. “Alright. Let’s find a place to camp. Continue what you were saying, Sam. Something about being bound here?”
The group started to walk. Sam followed alongside them, his feet not quite touching the ground. {I suppose I am bound to this location, in a way. But not for reasons you think. You see, the longer a ghost exists, the weaker it gets. I am, as you all have notes, a very old ghost of a man who died long ago. I am thus, very weak. It is difficult for me to... be present. To take form and reach out to you all.}
Marvin nodded along. “Let me guess. Something about the Wyldwood makes you stronger?”
{The Wyldlands are places where magic pools. And magic does indeed make ghosts stronger. But even then, I am such an old spirit that I cannot move far beyond the center of the Wyldwood, where the magic is strongest.}
“We are near the center of the Wyldwood...” Henrik breathed. He looked down into the blasted heath. “That is why that dark deed was done here, then. But in turn, it has left a scar near the heart of this place.”
Marvin growled. “This Aneirin is a real bastard.”
{I can agree with that statement,} Sam said. 
Even though he is your brother? Jameson asked.
“His brother who tried to kill him,” Chase emphasized.
Sam laughed again. {Honestly, Chase, though that is true, I was once more sad than angry about it. Even when I died. It is only now that I know about... about the terrible deed that was done, that my anger has eclipsed the sadness.}
Jackie sighed. “I guess that makes sense. He was still your family.”
“Family can be bastards,” Marvin muttered. “Even siblings.”
Jackie nodded. And after a moment’s hesitation, he reached out and put a hand on Marvin’s shoulder. Marvin did not shake it off.
Henrik coughed. “So... what is it like being a ghost? It must be terribly boring.”
{Boredom is an emotion for the living,} Sam said. {Though I used to get bored very easily, I no longer do. In fact, now that you all have come up with names for some of people’s mental strangeness, I do wonder if my boredom was a symptom of... What do you call it?... Something about distraction.}
“Impulsive distraction?” Jackie asked. “That’s what I have. I can’t imagine not being bored at the first sign of nothing happening.”
“You would be able to cope with the boredom better if you actually took a mind soother,” Henrik muttered.
Sam chuckled. {Yes, that. Though we did not have mind soothers when I was alive. But even knowing a name for it would have reassured me.}
Jameson looked at him curiously. If you’re stuck in the Wyldwood, how do you even know about things like mind soothers?
“Do you know it magically?” Marvin asked.
{Well, I used to be able to move across the whole kingdom as a spirit. No one could ever see or hear me, but I was able to watch and learn a lot.} Sam paused. {The same is true for certain people.}
“Aneirin,” Chase mumbled. “How else would he have known about Jack if he wasn’t watching the royal line in some way?” He shuddered. “A silent presence stalking you down, and your children, and their children, and waiting for one to pounce and... Th-that’s unnerving.”
“Quite unnerving,” Henrik agreed, eyes darting to the side for a moment.
{These are the sort of deeds that turn sadness to anger,} Sam said. 
The group didn’t go all the way to the other side of the clearing, but rather stopped about a quarter of the way around. They found a spot where the trees weren’t so thick and decided that this was a good place to set up camp. Draco settled down in a gap between tree roots and closed his eyes, taking a nap as the humans put out their bedrolls. Sam watched, standing on the edge of the clearing.
“Are you going to stand there protecting us?” Chase asked jokingly.
{If that’s what you wish,} Sam said calmly. 
“Oh I-I mean you don’t have to—”
{Chase, a ghost might not get bored, but I don’t have much else to do. There is no greater priority to me than your safety, and if me being here would help with that, I’ll stay.}
Chase blinked, then nodded. “Th-thank you.”
“Can a ghost do much to protect people?” Henrik wondered.
“He definitely did something to drive off that dullahan,” Marvin said.
“Yeah that sword may be ghostly but it worked enough for the headless bastard!” Jackie agreed.
You were able to cut down a monster with a ghostly blade? Jameson asked.
Sam shook his head. {The slices I managed to get were not enough to fell it.}
“That is still very interesting,” Henrik said.
“And impressive,” Chase added. “Have you... ever fought one of those before? Or are you just that skilled or lucky?”
{Yes, I fought one in a graveyard once, along with some comrades of mine. Fellow traveling companions, I’d gathered a small party by that time on my journey.}
Marvin’s eyes lit up. As did Jackie’s. “We’ve never heard that story before!” Marvin said.
“And I thought I’d heard just about every story about you!” Jackie fiddled with his cape excitedly. “Can you tell us about that?”
Sam blinked, then smiled. {Of course. And you tell me some of the stories you all have, too. I’m sure there’s a lot I haven’t learned about you and the Masked Phantoms.}
As the rest of the day passed, the group sat in a circle, exchanging stories, until eventually they had to eat, digging into their rations for the first time in a while. The strange magic of the Wyldwood had kept them from getting hungry, but now they were near that circle of dead earth, a dead spot in the magic, so they once again felt the rumblings of hunger. After that, they all agreed it was best to try and rest so they could leave early.
Or... try to rest, at least. Because two people found themselves awake as time went on. Chase laid in his bedroll, staring up at the tree boughs, before eventually rolling over to look at where Sam was standing. One side of the camp was darker, as there weren’t any glowing plants over near the blasted heath. But despite standing in that shadowy part, Sam seemed to be outlined in a faint light. He was staring out towards the clearing, but he seemed to sense Chase looking at him, turning back around to look back at him in turn. {Need something?}
“Huh? N-no, I...” Chase looked over at the others, but didn’t see anyone moving. So he sat up, assuming they were asleep. “I’m thinking about Jack,” he whispered. “I haven’t had one of those magical dreams since entering the Wyldwood, and the last one I had was... I-I’m... I’m scared for him.”
Sam tilted his head, thoughtful. {I... understand your worry. I watched over him a little, while I could. He was... a bright, energetic child, and a good, kind man. He... doesn’t deserve any of this.} He made a sighing motion.
“...He’s your descendant, isn’t he?” Chase asked. “You, uh... He looks a lot like you.”
{I know. And I wonder if that’s another reason he was targeted.} Sam shook his head. {I hope I can help him.}
Chase blinked. He never imagined the first King of Glasúil would look so... vulnerable. So much like... like how Chase himself felt. “Yea... me too,” he said quietly. “Look. Do you, uh... do you have the power to... give me one of those draíslings?”
Sam shook his head {I can speak with you in your mind, but as weak as I am, my enchantment powers can’t do much more than that. But... the bridge is already established. Perhaps if you asked the Horned Elder One for help, they will guide you there tonight.}
“...you mean, pray to them?” Chase blinked. “Huh. How have I not thought of that yet?”
{Sometimes the simplest ideas evade us.} Sam smiled encouragingly. {It’s worth trying, isn’t it?}
“Yea, it is.” Chase nodded. He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Sam.” And he laid back down, closing his eyes, silently sending his thoughts into the air. Please, Horned Elder One... he needed to speak to Jack. He needed to check on him. He didn’t care if Aneirin would stab him in the dream again. He just... had to reassure him... that they knew the truth now...
Chase drifted off, but someone else stayed awake, listening to Chase’s breathing slow. Jackie stared out at the surrounding trees. He knew that Sam being here meant that they didn’t have to take shifts to keep guard, but it wouldn’t hurt to look out as well, right? He kept shifting direction slowly, turning back and forth, moving his bedroll ever so slightly occasionally so he could look everywhere. But he couldn’t wake up the others, so he had to be very quiet.
But evidently, he wasn’t quiet enough.
{Is there any particular reason you’re rolling around like a caterpillar?}
Jackie inhaled sharply at the voice in his mind. He rolled over again and found himself staring at a set of ghostly boots. Sam crouched down next to him, waving. “...hello,” Jackie said. “Good evening.”
{You’re really having trouble dropping the formalities, aren’t you?} Sam said.
“Well... you’re the first King!” Jackie sat up, careful to keep his voice down even as he wanted to get loud with excitement. “I grew up hearing stories about you from my mam. I loved hearing about your daring exploits. It... was one of the things that inspired me to be a warrior. To help people and do good, incredible things. Like you did.”
Sam shifted position, sitting instead of crouching. {I came from the same place you did, you know. Not literally. I hear you’re from the west-center farmlands, while I grew up on the island you now call Suilthair. But I mean... I grew up hearing stories and wanting to do incredible things, too. So out of any of us, you and I should be the ones who are least awkward around each other.”
Jackie laughed. “You would think that, wouldn’t you?” His eyes drifted over to the trees, scanning them instinctively. “But as similar as we are, you are... you are legendary. Strong. A protector of good. A leader who looks after people. Everything...” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “E-everything I... want to be.”
Sam tilted his head. {Do you not think you are a strong, protective leader?}
“No, I know I am,” Jackie said. “You’re just... more of it.”
{Well... believe me, I never fully felt like that,} Sam said gently. {Especially after the events you now know about. Something like that does a lot to shake your confidence in your skills.}
Jackie laughed. “I-I guess it would.” He fell silent, continuing to look at the trees, searching for motion.
{You can sleep, you know.} Sam’s voice sounded like a whisper, like a feather floating into Jackie’s mind. {I can watch over you.}
“...I know,” Jackie said reluctantly. “But... I...” He shook his head. “I-it would be better to have two people on watch, right?”
{Not when one of them is an unsleeping ghost and the other is going to soon be exhausted from lack of sleep and too much activity. It was a busy day for all of you.}
Jackie didn’t say anything. He pulled his knees close to him, taking the bedroll with him.
{...there is something bothering you.} It wasn’t a question.
“No,” Jackie denied. “I just... I want to stay on watch.”
{Why?} Sam asked.
“I... I-I just want to. It would be better. If I could help, I should.”
{Because you are the leader?} Sam asked. {The strong one? The protector of others?}
Jackie’s breath hitched. Tears sprung to his eyes, though he didn’t know why. “I... If I have the ability, I... I should, shouldn’t I?” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t... I don’t want anything to happen to them. Especially since I’m weaponless now. That damned dullahan’s axe broke both my swords. All I can really do for now is look out for threats.”
{You can rest,} Sam said quietly. {And be sure that you’re prepared to fight tomorrow.}
“Fight with what? As I said, I’ve lost my weapons.”
{I can help with that.}
Jackie’s head snapped towards him, confused. “Huh? You’re... you’re a ghost, though.”
Sam smiled. {You can say I have connections. But it’ll probably take a while. The night. So, that means that once you fall asleep, you’ll wake up to something new.}
“Hah. That’s the sort of thing my dad would say to me as a child, when I wanted to stay up before the spring equinox, so I could catch the Growing Elder delivering presents. He always said they wouldn’t leave them if they knew I was awake.”
{It’s good to see that tradition persists.} Sam smiled slightly. But then he looked serious. {Jackie... I said we are alike. And because I said that... I know that it’s very easy to put others over yourself. Not because you think low of yourself, but because that’s what you think you should do. As the strong one, the one who is able to keep them safe, you must keep them safe.}
The tears were in Jackie’s eyes again. He looked away.
{But if you push yourself when there is no danger, you will be unprepared for when there is true risk,} Sam continued. {You cannot stay awake all night every night. Please. Let me help you. Just get some sleep, okay?}
Jackie faced him again. One of the tears slipped out but he still smiled. “I... guess I can’t disobey a request from a legend. That’d feel disrespectful.”
Sam grinned. {Still with those formalities, hm?} He laughed quietly. {Get some rest. I’ll keep watch. But I’ll also make sure your swords are replaced.}
“You can do that without leaving our sides?”
Sam nodded. {Magic is a fun thing, isn’t it?}
“It really is. Even if I don’t fully understand it.” Jackie stretched, then laid down again. He turned his eyes away from the trees and up at the branches stretching overhead. Then he snuggled down into the bedroll and closed his eyes.
Sam sat next to him for a moment more, making sure he fully fell asleep. Once he was sure he drifted off, he stood up and returned to the spot he was standing before, making sure that they were safe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chase’s praying must have paid off, because as he drifted off, he found himself in the draísling again. The hallway to the throne room, while recognizable, looked much worse for wear. The walls were darkened with dirt, and the stone bricks had cracked with age, mold lining the tapestries. The Horned Elder One wasn’t here, but they also weren’t here last time. But there was someone else here.
That man from last time blocked the way to the throne room. The man with green eyes, wearing dark leather armor over a green and black outfit, who looked a lot like Jack. As Chase stared at him, he felt that invisible force pushing him backwards. “You,” Chase breathed. “You’re him.”
Aneirin narrowed his eyes. “Get out of here. You don’t belong here.”
“And you do?” Chase asked. “This is Jack’s mind! You’re the intruder.”
Without even answering, Aneirin darted forward. Copper flashed through the air, but Chase was expecting it this time. He jumped back to avoid the slash—but then felt the world start to fade away. “No!” He shouted, focusing. Right, if he stepped backwards, he would wake up again. He needed to get past Aneirin.
Aneirin slashed at him, and Chase cried out, blocking the seax with his arm but feeling it slice through his skin. But wait—his skin wasn’t really there, was it? Why would a wound in a dream do much? Actually—why couldn’t he change this hallway? Just using his imagination? He’d been able to break Jack’s chains in the well just by thinking he could.
Another slash, but Chase imagined a shield, and suddenly there was a loud CLANG! as the blade hit a circle of metal on his arm instead of his chest. Aneirin’s eyes widened—was he surprised? Chase took the moment of hesitation to run to the side, right at one of the tapestries. There was a hidden tunnel behind there! He would make there be!
And there was. There was a tunnel, curving around, leading towards the throne room. Chase ran forward, while behind him, he heard Aneirin screech in anger.
He burst out of the tunnel halfway down the throne room. The whole room was slanted, a hill leading up to the dais, stairs after stairs after stairs. Chase ran, pushing himself as fast as he could towards the throne.
“Chase!” Aneirin’s voice screamed. “You’re going to die!”
Chase flinched, but hurried upwards anyway. He could feel wind pushing him backwards, Aneirin trying to expel him from the dream. He felt pain stab into his back, and cried out. Had Aneirin thrown a knife at him?! He started to glance back, but then the wind pushing him back grew stronger. No! He couldn’t stop for a single moment! He got close to the ground, grabbing onto the stairs for support. A knife flew through the air as he bent down, barely missing him. No time to worry about that! Keep going, keep going!
As he got closer to the top of this dais staircase, he noticed something. The throne was not... exposed. Instead, there were iron bars around it. A giant cage. But through the bars, he could see Jack curled up on the throne. “Jack!” He shouted.
Jack raised his head. That silencing mask was still on his face. Above them, his blue eyes went wide, desperate. Wet with tears.
“Jack, we’re coming!” Chase yelled. “We found something! We know something now! W-we can help you!”
Uncurling slightly, Jack started to reach out to him, the chains stopping him right before he was able to put his hands through the bars. Chase tried to reach out as well—
A scream pierced the air. Chase felt a hand on his shoulder: Aneirin. Before Chase could react, Aneirin pulled Chase off the staircase, sending him tumbling down, down, down. And Chase felt every impact, each one coming sooner as he picked up speed.
Until he stopped, falling flat on the ground. His whole body ached, and though Chase tried to remember that none of this was real, it was hard to keep that in mind when the pain felt so intense.
Aneirin appeared before him, glaring down at him. He crouched down by Chase. “This is my mind now,” he growled. “Your Jack will stay buried.”
Then he raised his seax and brought it down on Chase’s neck—
And Chase awoke, gasping in pain.
Morning had dawned on the Wyldwood. Bright sunlight shone through the tree branches. They must have slept a bit later than usual. As Chase looked around, he saw that the others were still sleeping. Sam’s ghost sat on the ground, facing the clearing instead of the group. He glanced back at Chase, concerned. {Are you alright?}
“Y-yea... I just... I...” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat. “Aneirin was... there. And... very insistent. On me... not being there.”
{...I’m sorry,} Sam said quietly.
“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Chase lied still, staring up at the trees.
Eventually, the others awoke, getting breakfast ready. Chase didn’t say anything about his dream.
Jackie was the first ready to start walking again, pacing anxiously as soon as he was done with breakfast and his bedroll was packed up. The others noticed this quickly. “Are you alright, Jackie?” Henrik asked.
“Yea.” Jackie nodded. “I’m just... ready to go. A bit worried about what we’ll face.”
Sam got to his feet. {Well, I have something for you that will help assuage those worries.} He held out his hands in front of him, palms up. Some silvery light glimmered above them. Curious, Jackie stepped closer. The light grew stronger, brighter. It flashed, and when it faded, two swords were lying across his hands. Jackie gasped. The blades and hilts of the swords were gleaming silver. {These blades should cut down spirits and magical creatures with ease,} Sam said.
“M-magical swords?!” Marvin stammered. “That’s—h-how did you get those?”
Sam smiled slightly. {I have my ways.}
“I... I w-wasn’t expecting... Are you sure, my King?” Jackie asked.
{I’m not a King anymore, remember?} Sam said. {And I’m very sure. These will be very helpful to you. They can also absorb various energies. Magic, but also lightning and fire. Doing this will allow you to use it against others during your next strikes.}
Jackie’s eyes lit up. “That’s... that’s amazing.” He reached out, hands trembling slightly, and took the swords. “They’re... lighter than I expected.” He slid one into the sheathe for his old sword, finding it fit perfectly. Then he gave the other a few experimental swings. “Oh. But there’s power behind this. I can feel it.” He sheathed the other sword and bowed deeply towards Sam. “Thank you, Sam. I-I’m honored. We’ll save the kingdom. I promise.”
Chase recalled his dream, and he nodded as well. “I promise, too.”
We won’t stop until that spirit is taken care of, Jameson said.
“And until Jack is free,” Henrik added.
Marvin simply nodded silently.
{I know you all will,} Sam said. {I believe you can do it. And so do the Elders.} He bowed to them. {I leave it in your hands.}
And with that, Sam faded away, leaving the others to their journey back. 
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