#i am good at making dice i promise

[ataliagold]

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C: 2012

Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington has dyscalculia, Steve Harrington has self esteem issues, Steve Harrington needs a hug, fluff, light angst, DnD, Mike and Dustin are a little mean here

Notes: Just slowly posting some of my AO3 stuff here as well :) Title from Rattlesnake by Jack Van Cleaf.

___

Steve joining in on Eddie’s campaign was supposed to be a nice surprise for his boyfriend.

And it was; Eddie’s face had lit up with joy when Steve had walked in and sat down with the kids around the table. Steve had taken the dice Dustin had loaned him and lined them up in front of him, from the D4 (the funny triangle one) up to the D20 (the one with heaps of sides, Steve reminded himself.)

If he kept them in that order it would help him pick the right dice quickly, he’d decided.

Because he wanted this to go to perfectly.

Eddie had been asking him to join in on a game for months, but Steve had so far refused, only coming along sometimes to watch quietly. There were parts of it that piqued his interest – namely the combat and the creatures Eddie planted into the game, because some of them were so damn cool even if Steve wouldn’t readily admit it out loud. A small part of him, a much younger part that had loved fairy tales and stories about knights and dragons and sword fights before his father had confiscated those books, deeming them too childish, watched with a quiet giddiness as the kids battled all manner of beasts.

But much of the game was so complicated - there were so many numbers, and Steve had no idea how Eddie and the kids managed to keep track of everything, how they added dice values together so damn quickly and kept track of a seemingly endless list of stats and bonuses and modifiers, whatever the hell they were.

Eddie knew about his difficulty with numbers. He’d seen the way Steve had to count with his fingers, how it took him far too fucking long to do a simple equation, how he stood in Melvald’s staring at the price of something just trying to make the numbers make sense so they wouldn’t blow their grocery budget.

And Eddie was patient, always. But D&D was Eddie’s realm, his place to shine, and Steve was so worried about holding him back and ruining the game every time he had to pause to add two fucking dice together.

Finally, he’d caved. Secretly, with Dustin’s help, he’d put a character sheet together. He’d made a paladin because Dustin had told him it suited him. Steve made him strong and lawful good, just like the knights he used to read about as a little boy. Dustin had rolled his eyes a little at that but Steve had been quite proud of what he’d put together.

Plus, Dustin had promised to help him with the math.

But here Steve was, well over an hour into the campaign, and he was struggling.

Cheeks burning, he turned to Dustin yet again.

“Wait, which one am I rolling?” he whispered.

Dustin rolled his eyes. The kid had been patient at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.

Steve was beginning to wear thin.

“The D10, Steve,” Dustin hissed.

“Right,” Steve nodded, grabbing for one of the dice.

“That’s the D8, Steve,” Mike said wearily.

Steve’s cheeks flushed even hotter, and he grabbed the other dice, rolling it quickly.

“Ahhh...seven,” Steve announced.

“You slash at the goblin, your blade cutting deep into its chest, the creature gurgling and reeling backwards…” Eddie leant over the table, giving a dramatic recount of events.

Steve smiled, unable to help it. His boyfriend was having such a good time, and even if Steve wasn’t enjoying himself so much, well, that was ok. He could do this, for Eddie.

“…but it scrabbles back to its feet, weak but alive,” Eddie finishes.

Mike groaned and slapped the table.

“It has to be almost dead,” Lucas announced.

“Yeah, but there’s still four others,” Mike pointed out.

“This one must be on two hit points or less,” Will surmised.

How did he know that? Steve frowned, let the kids talk amongst themselves. His gaze wandered over to Eddie, watching him lean back in his chair, eyes shining. He shot a wink at Steve when he caught him looking, then frowned a little, obviously noticing Steve wasn’t looking all that comfortable.

You ok? He mouthed at him.

Steve nodded quickly.

But he felt small.

Grow the fuck up, you’re fine.

“…Steve!” Mike groaned.

Steve’s attention snapped back to the kids. “What?”

“Stop staring at Eddie and tell us how many hit points you’ve got left.”

“Um…” Steve glanced down at the piece of paper in front of him. He’d scribbled some numbers down like Dustin had told him to every time his character had taken damage, but there were a lot of numbers there and he wasn’t sure they all actually related to his hit points…

“Give it here,” Dustin snatched the paper from him impatiently, peering down at it.

Steve waited while Dustin assessed his work, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of being back in school, his teachers reading over his work with a disappointed shake of their heads.

“This can’t be right, Steve,” Dustin sighed. “It says you’re on twelve hit points…is that a twelve? Your writing’s messy.”

Steve nodded. “Yours isn’t much better, pea-brain,” he mumbled, just to shoot something back at the kid.

Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. “You must have less than that because of the damage you took in the last round. You’re probably down to…eight at the most, by now.”

“Just make it eight, then,” Steve grumbled.

“Eight it is, big boy,” Eddie agreed.

“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Mike huffed. “You actually have to keep track of this stuff Steve, there’s no point playing if you just make the numbers up.”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Will tried to intervene quietly. “It can just be eight.”

Dustin picked up his pencil, drawing some columns on Steve’s paper. “Ok, so just use this one column to keep track of damage, don’t write all over the page. There’s your total hit points at the top, and every time you take damage, write it down under there, ok? And then just take it off the total. Simple.”

Like it was that fucking easy. Maybe for them, it was. They didn’t get every number mixed up in their brain, they didn’t stare at a single digit trying to put some numeric value behind it and coming up with zilch.

Dustin was trying to help, Steve knew. But his tone of voice was so fucking condescending that it had Steve squirming in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him.

“Come sit by me, Stevie, I’ll help you keep track.” Eddie said gently.

“You’ll just go easy on him, and that’s not fair!” Mike whined.

“Can it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped at him.

“Just because he can’t do basic math.”

“Right, you get to roll with disadvantage now, just for that,” Eddie told him smugly.

Mike was retorting with something, but Steve didn’t hear it.

His pulse was thumping in his ears, his cheeks on fire. The years were stripped from him, the sensitive child he’d tucked away inside a long time ago forced to the surface.

“Look, just carry on without me,” Steve muttered, and stood up quick enough that his chair scraped on the floor.

“Steve -” Dustin started, but Steve was finished, striding towards the stairs and blinking back tears.

He wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids, not over a fucking game, not over something his boyfriend loved so much.

But they were coming faster than he could blink them back as he headed out of Mike’s stuffy basement and out to the driveway, the cold night air caressing his flushed face.

This was supposed to have been a treat for Eddie. It was supposed to be fun, and Steve had ruined the night by being fucking stupid.

A tear tracked down his cheek , Steve losing the battle against them. He’d just drive home, he decided. Steve had come straight from work that day, so Eddie had come separately in his van, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

And then they could finish their game in peace, without having to treat Steve like a five-year-old.

He was getting in the driver’s seat when Eddie ran to him, both hands reaching for him.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured softly.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, dragging his sleeve across his face, smudging the tears there.

“Why? The kids were being assholes, I’ve already yelled at them.”

Steve shook his head. “I was just slowing everyone down, they were getting frustrated, I get it.”

“No, sweetheart, they were being rude,” Eddie corrected him. “Especially Wheeler.” Eddie brushed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks, crouching down beside the open driver’s door. “I’ve told them to pull their heads in. Do you…do you want to come back inside?”

“Eds…” Steve leant into his hands a little. “I’m no good at it. I really wanted to try, for you, and I’m so sorry I ruined it, but there’s too many numbers and I can’t keep track of everything and it takes me so fucking long and it’s embarrassing because I can’t even keep up with a bunch of kids, and I just feel like I’m back at school again.”

Eddie cupped his cheeks again, tilting Steve’s head to look at him. “Hey. You haven’t ruined anything, they did. I’m so happy you came along tonight, because I know you did it for me. But look, D&D doesn’t have to be your thing -”

“But -”

“It doesn’t,” Eddie cut in. “Just like…your balls in laundry basket games aren’t mine. But I like hanging around while you and Wayne watch them, and I love how excited you get about it, and how you sit there with that fucking pretty smile…”

Steve huffed out a small laugh, and Eddie grabbed his wrist to press a kiss to the inside of it.

“But I don’t know what’s going on most of the time,” Eddie continued. “It makes you happy, and that’s enough for me. So, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play D&D just for me if it’s not something you enjoy. It’s more than enough that you listen to my ideas, that you help me write -”

“I don’t really,” Steve said quietly.

“You do! Or have you forgotten who came up with that fucking amazing twist with the elven prince?”

“I got it from a movie,” Steve argued.

“So? I didn’t think of it, and it had the little shrimps completely stumped.”

Steve managed a small smile. “I do like some of the stories,” he admitted quietly. “But I think…I just wanna go home, ok? You can carry on.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m gonna get them to pack up in there. I’ll drop them home, then follow you back, ok?”

“Steve?” came Dustin’s voice from behind Eddie, small and hesitant.

Steve quickly straightened up in his seat, wiping a hand across his face.

“Yeah, buddy?” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

“I’m…I’m sorry. That we weren’t more patient. It’s ok if you struggle with numbers, and we should’ve helped more.”

“It’s ok, Dusty,��� Steve told him.

Eddie frowned, reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Dustin. “It isn’t ok,” he argued. “But it was nice of you to apologize.”

Dustin nodded. “If you want to try again sometime, I promise I’ll help more. I…I really liked having you play.”

“Thanks,” Steve managed.

“Tell Wheeler to start crafting his apology too,” Eddie said firmly, still cradling Steve’s hand in his own. “Otherwise he’s rolling with disadvantage for the whole next session.”

Dustin’s eyes widened a little before he nodded.

After packing up, the kids waited sheepishly by Eddie’s van. Eddie stayed crouched next to Steve a moment longer.

“Go home, get comfy on the couch, and pick out any movie you want to watch, ok?” Eddie murmured to him. “When I get home I’m gonna order us some pizza, and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, understand?”

Steve laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

___

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Girls Night

“You owe me 200!”

“Fine! Just take all my money!”

You laughed, throwing the paper money at her and taking a sip of your wine. It was safe to say that you sucked at playing Monopoly. Ellie had ownership of all the railroads and utilities, Abby had at least 2 hotels on each of her properties, and Alex spent most of her time in jail.

It still wasn’t a match for you, who had 25 dollars to your name, 2 properties that only generated around 30.00 total in rent, and would miss the free parking space every chance you got. When your time came and you rolled the cursed dice, the Monopoly Gods decided to end your pathetic gaming reign by putting you in jail.

“Alright, well I’m out,” you stated defeatedly, taking a long sip of wine as your confirmation.

“Aw, it’s alright Y/N. Maybe you’ll do better the next game!” Abby tried but you shook your head with a quickness.

“Absolutely not. Not only is this game rigged to make me realize how terrible of a homeowner I am, but it lasts forever! Alex knows, she’s been in jail for the last three turns.”

“Hey, I don’t mind it. I just collect all my rent money while I’m in here,” Alex retorted.

You laughed as you heard the front door open and saw Jethro walk in with a grocery bag and a bottle of whiskey. You got up from your spot immediately, happy to see him home finally and walked over as he set the stuff down on the kitchen counter. He had let the team go home earlier in the night but told you he needed to stay behind to do some paperwork on their latest case. Abby was the first one to suggest the girls game night and it didn’t take much convincing of Ellie or Alex when the promise of wine, snacks, and a warm fire were included.

“Hey hun. You just missed my embarrassing defeat in Monopoly. Remind me to never play this game with your team again, they’re entirely too good. And I think Abby’s been hiding all the good chance cards up her sleeve.”

He chuckled as you gave him a welcome home kiss and started noisily poking around in the goods he had brought home.

“Ooh. Chips, dip and whiskey? You trying to butter me up sir?”

He smiled and pried the bottle from your hands. “Whiskeys mine. And it sounds to me like you’re already buttered up,” he teased softly, not wanting his special agents to hear your two’s playful PDA. With another small kiss, he walked out to the group of girls and surveyed the real estate war.

“Doing well Abbs. Bishop, I like your strategy. And Quinn, stop hiding in jail.”

“I’m not hiding! I’m just taking my time,” she defended as everyone laughed.

“I’ll be downstairs if you girls need me. Good night.”

They called out their farewells as he made his way into his little woodworking dungeon and you took your spot back, bringing the new snacks with you.

“Alright Banker Abby. I need a loan,” you pleaded.

————

The clock read 11 pm once the girls left and you cleaned up your game space. In the end, it was Ellie who won, most likely due to her incredible NSA analysis skills and you had ended up with at least more than the small loan Banker Abby gave you. Once you put all the furniture back and glassware in the dishwasher, you made your way downstairs to see Jethro.

There was light country music and a muted tv playing as you watched him slowly move the sandpaper over his newest project. He had finished the boat a while back and offered to build you some beautiful planter boxes for the garden you wanted to start once spring came around.

It was always a treat for you when you watched him work. His movements were smooth and calculated, knowing just how much pressure to apply or what angle to use and seeing him wearing his tool belt and covered in sawdust just did it for you.

“You gonna stand there all night?” he called out with a smirk.

Walking over, you hopped up on one of the counters and took a small sip of his mason jar whiskey, slightly cringing at the taste.

“You know who would be really great for Ellie? Nick. I think their different personalities would really even each other out.”

“Rule number 12, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. Since when do any of his subordinates follow it, including himself. You knew all about his past with the director and Sloan, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Rule number 83. Don’t be a hypocrite,” you quipped, making up your own rule.

He gave you the look that you see from him to his team all the time but it didn’t work on you so you just smiled cheekily back at him. He stopped sanding and came over, taking the glass from your hands and finishing the awful brown liquor, your arms snaking around his neck. He smelt like a lumbermill mixed with a distillery and you loved it. You loved it even more when you pulled him in for a kiss and tasted the leftover vapors of his whiskey on his tongue. The effect of drinking your 3 glasses of wine had you feeling warm and fuzzy and made Jethro’s touch electric.

When you two pulled away, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “Let’s go to bed.”

Not needing any convincing, you nodded and he helped you down, taking off his toolbelt and carelessly dropping it on one of the tables before following you back upstairs.

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

How they make Breakfast

In response to @gothicchippy , how the people of the Hellsing Organisation and Father Anderson make breakfast! Let me know if there should be a part two!

Requested: I am going to tsay that's a yes

Warnings: Mentions of blood, blood drinking, killing people, and the mention of scars

Characters: Father Anderson, Alucard, Sir integra, Seras, Walter, Pip Bernadotte

Father Anderson:

Seeing as he seems to take care of the children back at the orpahange in Italy, it seems like he would be well versed in some good breakfast making. He would let you help make breakfast and his specialt is an italian breakfast which is simple and consists of yogurt which he would take teh time to make himself, jam and bread and fluffy fresh baked criossants. He lets you help out and will try a breakfast that you might have in mind. He keeps it light and healthy for the kids making sure they are taken care of and raised healthy. He has quite the skill in the kitchen and often times he lets you relax with him ot trace the scrs on his hands as he waits for somthing to cook or bake.

Alucard:

A morning with him isn’t rare though don’t expect it to be bathed in sunlight and giggles. The last time Alucard had human food was…a long time to best put it. He never had to cook anything because his food of choice is blood and Walter took care of all the cooking for the Hellsings. Instead you take it upon yourself to cook instead, though he is never far from you offering to help we’re he can. He’ll crack eggs or toast bread, but after the first few times of trying this little endeavor you learned not to let him man the spices.

Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing

She spends her days holed up in her office most time taking care of her work and looking at the papers she is being sent. Reports from all over the UK of many new young kings appear and in quick succession. Typically she could manage at least toast and Walter always made her tea, but lately even that is left wasted at the table as she works into the late hours. Without much luck and knowing you’re u favorable of her less than healthy eating habits, Walter asks you to coax her into eating breakfast. And you happily oblige, opting for a less American options, you took to fried mushroom, bacon, sausage, and nook and cranny. It was funny, she had no idea how to cook but the moment she was convinced to have breakfast with you and you asked her to cook she smiled and confident as ever she said,

“If I can’t learn how to cook for you, then I can’t call myself your lover now can I?”

With the assistance of Walter you end up at the desired breakfast and enjoy it on the terrace.

Seras

As part of trying to keep her humanity, Seras makes it a point to cook you breakfast almost every morning. Oftentimes you wake up to a bit of juice with some eggs and bacon or the very common beans and toast. When Seras isn’t out working and manages to stay up enough for you two to make breakfast. With a bit of convincing and a promise to clean anything used, she was able to get the kitchen every once in a while, with this she takes you into the kitchen and of course, you help prepare. Washing your hands consists of soap ending up in someone's hair or on their clothes and plenty of goofing around, after, she’ll bring out the sausage, eggs, potatoes, and cabbage and let you take care of the cooking while she peels the potatoes and dices them up. When everything is complete the two of you will sit down in her room and eat chatting about what you had ready for the day while she whines about Alucard or talks about the mission from the previous night. It’s pleasant and pretty sweet as she compliments you on how you can cook. As you eat, she sometimes wishes that she could to, that it didn’t have to be blood.

Walter

Being the top butler in the Hellsing manor, Walter has no trouble making a wonderful breakfast and is capable of making food from around the world. His memory may be a little behind him but he is still capable of making breakfast. He prefers to make the breakfast himself and will often serve you whatever he had made for Sir Integra that morning but if you request something different he is more than happy to oblige. He makes you bubble and squeak most mornings because it is simple enough to make and retains heat more so even if you wake up late it’s warm enough for you to enjoy it. On the chances where Sir Integra is out for the morning or someone else, Alucard, has taken care of serving her breakfast, he will take the time to teach you how to make a light pastry for breakfast.

Pip isn’t one for extravagant meals or something expensive, he’s still a mercenary. However, he does have a taste for the more expensive tasting things so in true french fashion he opts for a light pastry instead. If he is strapped for time then a bit of baguette and some fruit jelly works just fine for the both of you. Other times, if you and him are feeling especially patient you manage to properly make a pastry , while waiting, Pip will pull you into a dance leading you around the kitchen or tell you jokes or stories from his time some years ago overseas. It always comes out a little under or over done, not that the two of you mind.

@gothicchippy

[utilitycaster]

Level 10!

You may or may not know the drill:

Corrections about actually wrong items or major omissions are welcome. "Um, actually"-ing because I did not list every single spell or feat available or speculate the exact same things you did is not.

Because the cast usually does a brief video shortly before the episode for level-ups now (as they did today!), rather than announcing it at the end of an episode, this includes speculation and a bit of editorializing on my thoughts for the next few levels. This isn't necessarily meant to be accurate to what the cast will do, so don't quote me on it - it's just my thoughts on what I think might make sense or will be interesting. Those thoughts may very well change significantly as the story continues.

Anyway, level 10: it's a subclass-centric level for most of the players.

Chetney: His rogue level means he's blood hunter 9, which means Grim Psychometry, the coolest ability, which grants advantage on knowledge checks surrounding tragic or dark histories, with the potential for the DM to grant visions. Looking forward: assuming Chet keeps moving forward with blood hunter, L10 is a big one for him, as his speed increases by 5 feet, he gets another blood curse, and he gains a +3 (INT modifier) to all physical saves.

Laudna: She took a level in sorcerer, so she gets another sorcery point and another spell, this time up to 4th level; I drafted this post a while back and forgot to check the spell list for sorcerer so you're invited go nuts on your spell thoughts in the notes! Looking forward: Look. I've covered my mechanical concerns about this multiclass. Personally, had I been playing a character with this build from level 3 in a party with another sorcerer, I'd have stopped at 3 sorcerer levels and leveled exclusively in warlock. However, she's now 7 levels into sorcerer and so stopping that to go warlock will probably hamstring her mechanically, especially since the 6th level Undead feature is not terribly impressive. I think one last warlock level might be good for the ASI and the known spell, since warlocks have a more interesting spell list, and it makes narrative sense at this point now that Delilah is reawakened, but then I'd probably continue to take the rest in sorcerer. I AM very interested in how Laudna will deal with Delilah since I don't see her getting another undead patron to replace her, but that's so speculative that I'll hold off until something changes.

FCG: FCG gets a new cantrip, a new 5th level spell slot, and the ability to roll for divine intervention, which promises to be a fucking trip (complimentary). Looking forward: 6th level cleric spells, which he'll get at level 11, have a lot of bangers, but I am personally most invested in FCG's Heroes' Feast.

Fearne: with a 9th level in druid she gets access to 5th level spells, and her circle spells are Mass Cure Wounds and Flame Strike, both of which are excellent. As always for druid levels, Little Mister's HP goes up by 5. Looking forward: I'm assuming Fearne's continuing with druid levels, and if so, the level 10 feature of Cauterizing Flames allows her to use the death of a creature (enemy, ally, or bystander) to create a spectral flame that can either heal or harm others who enter that space. This is amazing and I'm excited.

Imogen: At level 10, she gains another cantrip and another metamagic option. I personally think subtle spell is the best one (and given the Vanguard's tendency to collar mages they dislike, could be huge if they come into conflict), but quickened, which Laudna has, can also be clutch. Looking forward: Chain Lightning does seem like an apt spell for her to take, but personally I'd love True Seeing as more interesting and higher utility while still thematic.

Orym: At level 10, he learns two more maneuvers, and his superiority dice become d10s. There are a ton of maneuvers and I will freely admit I don't know them all, but I do like the idea of Commander's Strike (let Ashton and Chet do more damage), Distracting Strike, or Maneuvering attack. Looking forward: Level 11 grants Orym three attacks per turn, which is really the most fun fighter feature.

Ashton: Level 10 is a path feature level, and we don't know the details of their subclass, so it's up in the air! I'm excited to see what it is. Looking forward: level 11 grants relentless rage; if he drops to 0 HP while raging (for the record Ashton has only gone out 3 times; two were during the Otohan fight and one in the Ratanish fight) he can make a con save to remain conscious.

[yuukienstarsera]

Knights with a Idol S/O (part 1)

Knights (separately) Leo x gn reader, Izumi x gn reader Fluff, Little angst,  idol stuff. Warnings: Anxiety thoughts (Izumi), nicknames, kisses, 

This is the first part, the second is part here!☆

You belong to a new group under ES Square, you were already in a relationship with him when you debuted…

Leo Tsukinaga 

At the beginning

He was so hyped up when you debut, he attended your concert, and he was the first in the line, screaming the song.

I really believe that he copy and paste the link of your debut song to all the contacts that he had in hold hands.

He will give you advice about how is alright to take the brakes once in a while.

He will make sure to be friends (or leave a good impression) with all your bandmates. 

How he shows his love (in public, in private, etc.)

He won't stop talking about you.(he talks a lot about the things he loves)

Messages and calls in your free time, even between your activities, I believe that he would make time to do that.

When neither of you has idol activities, you would have dates in his room watching videos and documentaries about aliens, spending time together. (Natsume is so done with you two)

Kisses on the forehead and cheeks (Quick little kisses on the cheek in public) and a lot of hugs! 

Communication is the key, Leo will make sure to have it! 

I believe that one of his love languages is dedicating his songs to you. 

“I promise you this, my dear” and with that “Silent Oath” by Knights finishes.

When you and he are in the same concert he would go to the dressing room you are in and would give you encouragement 

“You will shine like you always do!” ”You have nothing to worry about, they gonna love you, but not as much I do!” “Show them your beautiful and powerful voice”

Another love language that he had is writing songs for you! if your group chooses one of the songs that he writes, he will say it to his fans.

How rumors start

Has I said before, he would say to his fans “By the way I write a song for (insert group name), they are very talented! I was really happy when they told me that they choose my song”

When he said that, all of his fans were a little suspicious about it, why does he have such interest in that group? That is how the rumors begin.

Another thing that caught the fan's attention was your actions.

On variety shows you would answer things like “Actually, my favorite song is (insert a knights song) because their voices are so beautiful” “I usually spend my free days with Leo-kun, we had a lot of fun!” “On my debut days, I always remember having a lovely supporter, thanks to them i keep going until today”

How the fans know about your relationship

Knights won an award, so they diced that Tsukasa and Leo would give the thanks speech to their fans.

Everything was going normal until Leo finished with “I wanna thank our princess for all the support that they gave us,  I wanna give a special thank to  (your name) for always supporting knights, but above all, for being my inspiration “ and with that, all the world knows that you and Leo were in a relationship 

“I´m sorry, I shouldn´t have done that,” he said with tears in his eyes.

“Don´t worry love, I am thankful to be in your life ” you whipped his tears with your hands, grabbing him by his cheeks.

“You are not angry with me?” he asked looking at your eyes, see those beautiful green eyes happy again was the only thing that really matters to you.

“If I was you in that situation, I would do the same, or even worse, I would scream that I love you, aliens would know at that moment that we are in love” Both of you laugh when you said the last thing

“I love you dear” he saw your lips, he always does it when he wants a kiss.

���I love you more, Can I kiss you?” you said while you approached even more.

“Of course” he murmurs, his lips were soft.

You had your world in your hands.

Izumi Sena

At the beginning

Unfortanetaly, He was in Florence by the time you debuted, but after your concert finished, he would call you to say that he was watching you online and all the moments that had him fall in love more with you.

I believe that he has a lot of merch about you in his room, Shu probably has complained about it.

He will give you advice like is alright to do work perfectly, but will be occasions when you can't do that, is important that even if you get frustrated about it, don't give up, you are gonna be alright, you are human after all, take a break, and keep it going.

If one of your bandmates gets too close, he would tell you that he is jealous about it (please he needs a lot of words of affirmation).

How he shows his love (in public, in private, etc.)

One of his love languages is gift-making knit things for you! You already had a whole closet with the things that he made.

He would check on you via messages,  he makes sure that you eat all your meals, and you are restringing well, etc.

When both of you had free time, you spent time together on dates outside ( like going to the beach, aquarium, looking at the stars) and inside (watching movies together, taking coffee while you catch up).

He is more to give hugs than kisses, in private we would love to kiss you on your cheeks (he gives you kisses on your hands when you are in public, he is very professional when both of you had worked together )

Izumi spent a lot of time working as a model, but when you need it he always is there for you.

“Izumi, don't you have work today?” “I reschedule it, have you eaten? get up, we are going to the cafeteria”

When both of you are on the stage, he will give little glances, only to make sure that you are alright.

Has I said before, he always does little things that prove that he loves you, for example, opening the door for you, carrying your things, ordering food for you, and retouching your make-up, etc.

How rumors start

It was his actions that betrayed him, he always makes sure that you are safe, little actions like holding your hand when both of you are getting down the stage, how he gives you attention when you speak on the microphone, etc.

Fancams of you and Izumi smiling at each other went viral, and soon both of you began to have worked as models for different campaigns (both of you were happy about it).

The connection that both have could be seen through the camera lenses, they invite you to a variety show.

How the fans know about your relationship.

In the variety show that you were invited to, you said it unconsciously, you found out when you saw the episode on the TV, fortunately, Izumi was with you at the time. 

In the episode, both of you were doing an activity that was a little dangerous and you said “Be careful love”, Izumi responded  “Don't worry, we are gonna win this”, and both of you know that this is only going to confirm the dating rumors.

“Are you scared?” he asked, you were in total shock, how could you say it so naturally? What is gonna happened next? Anxious thoughts were running wild in your mind.

“Love, look, everything will be alright, don't worry” you don't even notice when he approached until he was hugging you.

“I´m sorry” tears start to fall while hugging Izumi.

“What are you apologizing for? I couldn't be more proud that I have you as my partner, that we love each other” he murmurs in your ear “Besides, we are pretty obvious, and the media love us, so relax, believe in me that everything is gonna be alright” he whipped your tears.

“Gosh I love you so much, you know that?”

“Yeah, Who doesn't love me?”

“You are ruining the mood, love”

“I´m ruining it?” he said caressing your cheek with his hand while he approached to kiss you.

“Sometimes I hate you” you murmur into his lips.

[petrifiedforests]

*rushes in so fast that nearly falls over* 🎲 + Fox/Wolffe? Please? :3c

Hi! Maybe you still remember prompting me in *checks calendar* May? Thank you for the prompt!

The dice have spoken and chosen 'A firm kiss' from this list.

"What," Fox glared at his vod who had the audacity to roll his eyes at him.

"I'm just saying, fancy food and drinks,  music, dancing, there's worse jobs out there." Wolffe pushed off the wall of the Corries' mess and gave him a slow, long look, his eyes wandering across his exposed body.

Fox suppressed a shudder. "Don't," he said shortly. There was nothing good about the natborn war effort galas and being shown around like the best piece of life stock at the auction. Their greys did fuck all to stop the subtle and not so subtle touches, no bucket to stop the air kisses and no filters for the cloying perfumes. Duty was duty and these things gave them bacta, rations and the occasional treat for the front liners. That didn't mean they were enjoyable.

To his credit, Wolffe shortly looked contrite. Fox let out a long breath and pinched his forehead, grimacing slightly. He really didn't want to spend Wolffe's shore leave fighting about this shit again, the precious few hours he managed to wrangle between his shifts too valuable to waste them on petty fighting.

He didn't ask to get this post, none of them had a say in it and yeah, it sucked to be grounded but there was nothing anyone could do about it and to think differently was delusion. The natborns wanted the clone with the best scores here instead on the front where he'd be the most useful, the natborns got him right here.

"I didn't come here at ass o'clock in the morning to argue, Fox," Wolffe echoed his thoughts a moment later.

"What did you come here for then?" Fox couldn't help but challenge, tipping his chin up.

He knew damn well what Wolffe was after, why he had cornered him on his caf run instead of waiting for him in his quarters. But he just had to take a dig at his Corries, didn't he. So Fox had absolutely no qualms in making him spell out that he was hoping for some time together in the bunk. Or the closet. Or his office. 

Wolffe's eye twitched in a way that said that he knew exactly what Fox was playing at and he gained a lovely twist around his mouth when Fox smirked at him.

"I am here," Wolffe enunciated carefully, taking measured steps towards Fox, "because Thorn called me."

"That little bastard is on cleaning duty until the war ends," Fox replied caustically, eyeing Wolffe's approach. That prowl promised very good things but now he really couldn't give in easily since Thorn sicced Wolffe on him specifically. 

Wolffe stopped in front of him, broad shoulders looming over Fox. Fox reminded himself that they were the same height and pulled himself up. Snorting, Wolffe rolled his eyes and reached out, grabbing Fox by the hair and reeling him in. He crushed their lips together hard enough to leave bruises, the pull of his hands forcing a whimper out of Fox as he fell into the sensation. His arms came up to scrabble futilely at Wolffe's shoulders as he slumped into his hold.

Force be damned, this was so much better than the air kisses. 

Fuck Thorn for selling him out though.

[something-tofightfor]

Just Too Good To Be Gone Masterlist

(Joel Miller x female reader insert)

UPDATED 12/7/2023

(Header made by the incredibly talented @stealyourblorbos​)

Just Too Good To Be Gone Playlist:

Listen on Spotify

Detailed info/warnings on individual update pages

Tag list sign up link in bio

While I’m imagining Pedro Pascal as the Joel in these stories, I’m sticking with a few game-canon things.

The outbreak takes place in 2013.

Joel was 29 in 2013, and so in the “present” (when he’s with Reader), he’s 49-50

This series was started BEFORE the Remake came out. Joel’s canonical birthday according to that is 9/26/1981 - HOWEVER I am keeping that he was born in 1984 (like we all thought for almost a decade) just because I’ve gone too far to change it now.

While she isn’t explicitly given a birthday or any physical characteristics, the reader insert was 22-23 at the time of the outbreak - so it’s a 6-7 year age difference between her and Joel.

There will be spoilers from both games in this series.

Story is listed in chronological order on this masterlist, BUT I am still filling things in as I go - so it is not complete.

NSFW/Smut will be marked with an *

- Spring/Summer 2034: 

A Detour in Your New Life - Coming Soon

Still Chasing For That Feeling  (2.1k)

Waiting For This Sky To Fall (11.1k)

Everything’s Changing Now

Part 1: Let It In  (‘Cause I Want You So) (10.3k)

Part 2: We Could Live Like Kings (If We Take A Risk)* (12.5k)

Harder To Find What’s Right (5.2k)

Promise Not To Stop When I Say When (11.3k)

- Autumn 2034

Help Me Get Away From Myself

The Cabins / The Whiskey - (small batch)

Part 1: You Let Me Complicate You (7.9k)

Part 2: The Only Thing That Works For Me* (14.7k)

Everybody’s Waiting For The Next Surprise

Part 1: Take A Chance And Roll The Dice (11.9k) Part 2: This is Halloween* (15.6k)

- Winter 2034/2035

Your Eyes Outshine The Town (9.6k)

- Spring 2035 

You’re Tellin’ Me Something Real (6.3k)

Can’t Swallow What I’m Thinkin’ (5.3k)

Found My Place in The Sun (936 words)

- Summer 2035

Some Things Are Meant To Be (7.8k)

Lessons You Learn From A Past You Can’t Change

Part 1: Constants Like Gravity, Heartbreak and Shame (10.1k)

Part 2: Nothing To Lose Is A Path You Can Choose* (10.6k)

 - Autumn 2035

We’ll Feel It All Tonight * (16.3k)

No One Sings Like You Anymore - Coming Soon

- Winter 2035

More Than You Could Ever Know (5.3k)

- Spring 2036

Make This Old Heart Give In* (14.7k)

Joel at the wedding (art by @/stealyourblorbos)

Summer 2036

Burdened Black Heart - Coming Soon

 - Summer 2037

The Colors I See* (3.8k)

Spring 2038

All I Ever Needed* (12.3k)

Astoria Hot Springs

Men Who Are Fighting To Be Warm (Joel Miller NSFW Alphabet)* (11.8k)

Extras:

Trick or Treat Joel Commission from @valkblue​

Bound to the Smuggler - a birthday surprise by @stealyourblorbos​

Joel and Reader’s love languages (answered ask!)

Joel and JJ (And Ellie and Dina) (answer based on picture ask)

Joel and flower crowns (answered ask!)

Just Too Good To Be Gone Banners (all made by @stealyourblorbos and they are too pretty to not show off!)

Original / Alternate A / Alternate B /

[swallowtailed]

palisade 62 / finalisade side b track 6

on palisade!

one thing about fatt, they can stick a landing. more specifically austin and jack by their powers combined can stick a fucking landing. tbh let me talk about the outro first, actually:

stunning final track. loved hearing it morph from the palisade theme into other tunes.

a joy to hear from parti one last time!! probably my favorite npc of this season.

and to lift back out into the frame of perfect imperfect as hosted by layer luxurious (broadcasting from the planet of palisade, which is a lovely touch)—it’s my audio drama past coming out, but i do so love a diegetic radio show. we were promised that we would hear the end of the perfect millennium! and we did! satisfying.

i wasn’t sold on the plot of this sortie, but janine brought it home—has been bringing it home all arc. her work in this finale has been really, really cool. super solid science fiction. going from questlandia back into armor astir felt like an odd zigzag—much like dipping into and back out of the mirage—but the thread of blossoming sentiences was very strong.

(would like to take time to dig into the thematic structure of this season, now that it's over, but for now i am just pointing at it)

god, just knowing that brnine survived, and continued the fight… that's a win. closing on them bantering with thisbe was, i agree, the perfect final image.

brnine’s gravity clock changing to “thisbe is an important part of my life”... thisbe saying they’re a good captain and asking to watch a movie, and brnine immediately teasing her… they’re friends ;-;

also—season about grief—it was jokes, but thisbe saying “i was stating a fact, i wasn’t mourning” and brnine replying “sounded like mourning to me”, and ending palisade on that exchange… a good note of closure on that theme, i felt.

there’s been a lot of excellent character work this season—brnine, thisbe, cori, figure, jesset, and august all stand out to me. i’m trying not to make this post too long but man. genuinely incredible stuff.

perennial blooming again with thisbe’s gift of the pollen was really lovely. as was all the imagery in that scene

thisbe throwing sixes to speak with perennial was so Dice Game. one last little bit of serendipity for the road.

also thisbe being integrated with various different ways of being is very “it’s not a field it’s a garden” to me

i am looking forward to seeing how they treat this new phase of the divine cycle, because a transformation like that of the divine arbor would be devastating to a lot of lifeways & ecologies. it is far from the only time this has happened in the divine cycle! but it’s a great chance to concretize that. kudzu and other invasive species were raised in a previous ep; i’m also reminded of area x from jeff vandermeer’s annihilation. what i would like to see: a focus on new social forms, cf scavengers reign. fatt typically does not dig into ecologies, land relationships, etc, but perhaps they will look more in that direction in the divine arbor’s new world? who knows. either way i’m gonna be sitting here talking about ecological readings because unfortunately i do think it’s important and relevant lmao. (while i’m talking on the season scale, this is something i really want to see in sangfielle as well. which is a setting that even more deserves some time spent on the land.)

cori’s scene with elle was great. her storyline this season has been so fun—losing none of the bravado, but coming more into herself. i thought she was gonna give elle some of her blood but a ritual knife is probably a better gift.

can’t wait to see where they’re at next divine cycle season!!

“if only you could get five more minutes” made me laugh

glad that levi made it out! starcrossed is a wild name for a team led by a guy who kicked off his career by defeating the fear of death—kinda thumbing his nose at fate—but it seems like he’s pulling it off so far.

can local plant-based organizing be a viable alternative to galactic capitalism? i sure fuckin hope so!!

leap vanishing with present would have been extremely space opera

perennial blue ribbon…

i did overall really enjoy this season. i think it’s their best yet, for character work and executing on big ideas. a sharper take on twilight mirage. it’s dense but it has momentum. they really do get better every season imo... like my season ranking does kinda just go directly up in chronological order

god. palisade.

stay tuned~

(also, while we’re here, thanks for reading! this is something like the sixtieth of these weekly palisade ep posts, which is wild. it’s been a weird year and a half, personally—a lot of time in motion—but tuning into palisade every week and then thinking and discussing together has been really fun. so shoutouts!)

[gildedkrone]

The Sun and The Moon

Relationships: Ghost x GN Reader Synopsis: You break all of your promises by dying and Simon loses it. A/N: Angsty hurt no comfort for those who want to see Ghost suffer. Master List

“Simon, what are you doing?”

The man has his arms wrapped around your torso. His head is buried into your nape and his breaths are warm tingles on the neck. You set the knife down to turn around and look at your lover. He responds by loosening his hug but never truly letting go.

“Hugging you,” he replies as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You laugh, a crystal sound on his ears and weary heart. He tightens his embrace to pull you in close to him and you smell the scent of his aftershave. In the privacy of your home, he opted for a simple balaclava instead of the usual skull mask.

“Did something bring this on?” You mumble against his cheek and he shakes his head.

“Just needed to feel you.”

He melts into your returned embrace and you whisper sweet nothings into his ears.

---

Gunshots are coming from left and right. You are hunkered down beside a desk for cover and counting your munitions.

Most of your rounds are depleted and there are only eight remaining.

---

“Ghost, you need to let me finish cooking dinner.” You gently tug his hands to request for him to do so.

He grumbles something non coherent and shakes his head. In response to your attempt to break his embrace, he tightens his arms and you are fully pressed against him. You are close enough to feel the heat of his body emanating through his clothes—a large grey hoodie you gifted him for Christmas with the print best boyfriend ever. He blushed something fierce when he first received it, but it soon very quickly became his favourite sweater.

It went with him everywhere and Simon nearly throttled Soap when he spilt something onto it. Fortunately, the stain was easily removed and the sergeant made off without a scratch. Profuse apologies from him are a funny memory to look back on.

You caress his cheek gently and he leans into your touch. Soft Ghost is rare to come by and who were you to deny your heart? He is, by all means, a big friendly teddy bear when you got to know him. Soft touches on your body and the playful glances are things he reserved for you solely. A privilege, the altar of your hips in hands gentle as wind.

“Simon, did something happen?” His eyelids flutter open at the mention of his name.

“The mission next week. The one with Shadow company.” Oh. Was he worried about the mission you were assigned to with Graves and his men?

“What about them?” His eyes are darting around and he struggles with how to express himself. How to make you listen and agree with him.

“Don’t go.”

“What? Simon, is this a joke?” You attempt to diffuse the tension in between you and him. He doesn’t seem to be joking and his eyes are set in a firm, unyielding look.

---

“Bravo zero six to command, how copy?” You yell into the radio among the chaos unfolding around you.

“Anyone? How copy?”

Silence hung from the line.

---

“Sweetheart, I—I don’t have a good feeling on Graves. I don’t want you all alone with him.” Was Simon jealous of Graves? He finally relents and lets you escape his hug.

“Simon, I didn’t know you were jealous, my sweet lad.” You joke and return to dicing the potatoes into cubes. He stays by your side and observes you making dinner.

“Graves knows that I am practically your fiancé. He won’t try anything funny and if he does,” he squeaks (he didn’t) when you sneak a kiss, “I’ll break his fingers.”

“Love, I—”

“Simon. Trust me, okay?” You grab his hand. His hand is calloused and you give it a firm reassuring squeeze, hoping the meaning reaches him. “It will be alright. The marines will be there as well and the op isn’t anything I haven’t handled before.”

He raises your hand from your waist to his chest. Palm covering yours presses it against his skin and you feel it. The chaotic beating of his heart, the way it beats for you. All for you, unspoken words hanging between you both.

“I don’t like it.”

“Me neither. But it’s the General’s orders so its not like we have a say in this either.”

---

Silence reestablishes its hold in the warehouse and you watch a marine drop onto the floor. Blood trickles from a spot in his flank and the marine falls, unmoving. His rifle falls beside him and a Shadow soldier shoots again.

You grip your rifle tighter and breathe deeply.

---

“Look at me.” He follows your order and focuses his gaze on you. The mighty Ghost, fully compliant with the orders of a sergeant makes you smile.

“I know that you don’t like this and I don’t too.” He balaclava shifts and but you cut him off. “But this is the last mission. Once I am done with this, I will be able to stay with you in the UK.”

Deep down, he knows about this as well. The carrot the SAS dangled over your head to take advantage of your skills and capabilities. Being a former hostile combatant defected to SAS soldier, your freedom was written in contracts signed eons ago.

Twenty high-risk operations in exchange for an immigrant visa that guaranteed long term stay in the UK.

Simon had found about them when you started becoming something more than just friends. Until now, you have completed nineteen missions satisfying the criteria.

“Just one more. Then I will get my visa and I’ll be able to stay here with you for as long as we want.” I’ll be free to go anywhere with you.

Your name rolls off his tongue in velvet honey and wine, “Don’t like this. I hate every aspect of this.”

“Don’t hate it so much, love. If it weren’t for Laswell, I wouldn’t even be here and alive. It’s the price I pay to be living and here with you.”

And I will never regret, ever, paying this price. For you, it’s all worth it.

---

The Shadow’s rifle impacts your helmet and if it weren’t for the two of them holding your arms up, you would have crumpled to the floor.

Their commander walks forward.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

---

“Once I am done with this mission, we can retire.”

“We can get that motorcycle you really wanted and we can decorate your flat.”

“Maybe get a cat as well.

“Dog, love. Riley’s looking for a home.”

“Then we need a room for the dog too. And a new house.”

You go over the schematics for the place Simon identified to be suitable for housing you, him, and Riley. It’s bigger than his current flat in London in a lovely neighbourhood north of London.

You show him the mock up of the space you had created and he leans in for a closer look.

“Looks good, love.”

“You say that for everything I do, brat.”

“I only tell the truth.”

Simon returns to his crossword puzzle and the room is comfortably silent.

“I can’t wait.”

You look at him, softness in your eyes rivalling clouds. “I can’t wait for us to start a new life together. Away from all the violence and bloodshed.”

He nods and you continue, “Can’t wait to finally get married to my fiancé.”

“I—That sounds amazing, love.”

“And I will get to do all of that with you.”

---

Graves tilts your head up and tsks.

“Look, you can either tell me where the missile is, or, I can make you tell me.”

His hand brushes against the metal sun with your dog tags.

“You won’t like it when I force you, sweetheart.”

---

Simon sneaks up from behind and you nearly jump at the sight of him in your mirror.

“Simon!” He chuckles and you give his shoulder a gentle punch. “Give me some warning, next time!”

“What’s the fun in that?” You pout and he sighs in affection. His pulls your close and presses kisses to your face. It’s ticklish and you shriek in mock protest and he is laughing in good natured fun.

“Got you something, love.”

Oh?

You watch his hand disappear into his pocket and retrieves a box. He nudges you to open it and you do. Inside the box, two metal ornaments. One resembles a sun and the other, a moon. He smiles at your gasp at the sight.

“These are beautiful, Simon.”

The sun is painted in an iridescent orange spilling into gold and red with filigrees of silver etches into the edges. The moon is an impossibly deep black embossed with gold filigrees. His hand picks up the sun.

“This is for you, love.” He gently affixes the sun to your dog tags and the moon to his own. He brings the two ornaments close together and they meld together in a magnetic clink. The lines and edges blur together and the sun and moon, unified in one.

You and Simon. Two halves of a whole. You are his sun and he, your moon. Symbolic is the meaning of the trinkets and you rest your head against his. His large hand cradles the trinkets and without him, you wouldn’t be whole.

“These—” His heart is thumping wildly and the words are hard to come by.

“These are my mother’s. S-she wanted me to share them with someone I deemed important.”

“Oh, Simon, I—”

“You are important to me.” He struggles for words. “The most important thing in my life.”

“I want to share them with you. To show you how much you mean to me.”

Tears of your heart are glistening from your eyes and he isn’t faring much better. He raises his balaclava to his nose and you smash your lips against his. He tastes of the freedom in the summer air of late July and his hands came to rest on your hips.

“Simon, you didn’t have to do this. I, I will always lo—”

“I know. This is just my turn to love you, love,” his words are harsh by the sheer emotion running between you and him.

---

The moon isn’t here and Graves tuts in disappointment.

“Look, sergeant, we don’t have all fucking day and I run a tight ship. Where. Is. The. Missile?”

Cuts and bruises litter your upper body, courtesy of the Shadows.

“Won’t talk? Round two, boys.”

One of the Shadows behind Graves walks forward with his knife. Your eyes are steel in the blade.

---

D-day is eventually here. The alarm wakes you and you roll lazily over to shut it off. Simon grumbles something and his hands seek out your body. He fingers brush across your flank and he is instantly holding on like a child to a teddy bear. The bed is warm and you are tempted to go back to sleep with him.

“Simon, I need to get to work.” You try to get him to relax his grip.

“Five … five more minutes.”

“I can’t. I need to be at the hangar in an hour and I still need to get ready.”

“Fuckin’ Price and the wankers for—”

The kiss muffles his words and brown eyes blearily open to the world. It distracts him enough to create enough of a chance for you to slip out of his grasp. He mutters something about the uncomfortable bedding and retreats to the toilet. You change into the combat uniform and use the toilet once Simon is done. When you are out, he is in a tactical jacket and camo pants.

He drags out a chair before the table with a mirror.

“Sit here.” You oblige and see him rummaging through his drawer.

He returns with a brush and eye black. He unscrews the cap and instructs you to lean your head black and close your eyes. Fingers gently press onto your face and you remain perfectly still, soldier discipline and all. His ministrations are gently and thorough and fingers are replaced with a brush moving across your skin.

You sneak open an eye to see Simon in full concentration mode, eyes focused solely on your face. He stopped sleeping with the balaclava a few months ago after confiding in you just how uncomfortable it was. So you wake every morning to Simon and all of his features. Adonis look held by a face sculpted by the Gods to reflect the beauty of man. He is, for the lack of words, insanely and undoubtedly handsome and you cherish just how lucky you are to see him.

“Thought I said eyes closed, sergeant.”

“Hmm, couldn’t resist looking at you. You are just too handsome for the world, Simon.”

Pink dusts his cheeks in smatterings and drapes him in youth. Without his mask, his expressions are on full display and the upturn of the edges of his mouth and the blush on his face. Simon is everything you could ask for and he finishes up your war makeup with the last strokes.

“Give ‘em hell, love.”

“You bet your arse I will. They don’t call us the 141 for nothing.”

He gives your forehead a quick kiss.

“When you return, we will celebrate.” You agree with him.

---

“Sergeant, why the fuck won’t you cooperate!”

You jerk when Graves’ hand leaves a deep red imprint in your face. Pain blossoms from the impact area and it’s a dull sensation compared to the torture his men had inflicted on you over the past hour? Hours?

Time is a blur and you have no way of knowing. You can only hope that the 141 figures out that something is wrong somehow.

---

He thunders down the hallways of the base; boots slamming against the floor. The other soldiers stay out of the reaper’s way and the door to the control room slams open. He steps out to get dinner rations and the dreaded message arrives.

Price and the American commanders look at him.

“Lieutenant, you have no—”

“Shut the hell up. Where is my sergeant?”

Deep sucks of breath and Price intervenes before the American Major is on the receiving end of a punch.

“Ghost, we are re-establishing contact. Hold on—”

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

“Shadow Commander Graves! Explain yourself right now.” The Major beats Price to the mic.

“Major Williams, there has been a change of plans. We have new orders to take the missile by force and the other soldiers on the mission have been dismissed.”

“Graves! What are—”

“General Shepherd sends his regards. If you have any problems, you can take it up with him.”

Sounds of struggling and yelling. Then, another voice.

“Ghost! Graves—fuck!—The others are all dead! The Shadows are taking the missile!” Followed by sounds of fighting and conflict.

He recognises the voice to be yours. Your name slips pass his iron jaw as he yells into his radio. Decorum is the last thing on his mind and your callsign is discarded.

“You need to strike this location! Graves is—” A sharp grunt and Ghost panics.

“Fucking grade A shit. Stay fucking down!” The sounds of yelling comes through choppy and broken by static.

“Your fucking sergeant gave me a black eye! That’s fucking it. I’ve fucking had it.”

All the stares from the people in the room but he doesn’t give a toss. Not when your life is on the line.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch them!”

---

“Don’t you dare fucking touch them!”

That’s Ghost’s voice. You have to get up from the floor and do something. The wound in your flank is aching fierce and nausea washes over you in waves. Moving into a kneel takes all of your mental faculties. You reach for the handgun in your thigh holster and a hand backhands you into a sprawl onto your back.

Arms drag you into a kneel and you stare down the barrel of the gun. Graves is behind the gun and looking worse for wear. A bruised lip and a black eye where you punched him. The sun ornament is burning up into lines of time ending in now.

“Any last words, sergeant?”

“Leave them alone! You touch them and I—”

You use the last reserves of your strength to bid your last goodbye to him. “Simon, I—I lo—”

Graves’ doesn’t wait for you to finish.

---

The line clicked dead and dread was all he could feel. His desperate calls for any response fell on silence. The world had shut him out and the radio ceased to transmit. Graves was no longer reachable and rogue. Price had his face in his hands and the Major opted to leave the room.

The gunshot was deafening, more so than usual. Graves wouldn’t even allow him the dignity of hearing your final words. He shouldn’t have ever agreed to let you leave. And now, all he reaped was guilt and regret. Heaps of it.

---

The sun ornament was still on the body.

He dreaded this, going to the mortuary when the bodies were recovered. Mission twenty. Just when you were about to free of the contract imposed years ago, fate had to strike you down and take you away from him.

All that was left was the moon. Alone in its splendour never as bright as when it was with the sun. The rest of the 141 steered clear of him and his hand found yours.

“Wake up, please. Love. Please, don’t leave me here …”

Tears of too late dripped onto the body below. Before he left, the dog tags were added to his own and the sun ornament with it.

“You wanted a yard right? A place where you could plant tulips and roses? Love, come back to me. You promised and we … we haven’t even gotten married yet.”

Price joined Ghost.

“They aren’t coming back, Simon.”

That was what truly broke him, knowing the rest of his time walking on this earth, he would be alone.

His companion, a distant memory, and a visage of brighter times.

---

The reaper dances.

They say that if one chances upon the cemetery outside a military base in the outskirts of London, they can catch the sight of a man dancing with another person. Dressed out in their splendorous wedding attire and in the arms of a man with a skull mask dancing through the fields of lilies and lavender. A wedding that never occurred and never to occur.

A dead person and the skull man on the fields of forgotten time stained with the red of countless Shadow soldiers laying around the couple.

Ever as beautiful as the day they died, in the arms of their lover for eons to come. The reaper weeps for nobody but the person in their arms. Eventually, to ashes and dust they become and the sun and moon are all but a story people tell their children.

If lucky, one of them may even find the ornaments in the story.

---

Let’s be lucky people, you and me.

You make me lucky, love. As lucky as a man like me can ever be.

[fiovske]

Do you have any recs for other non-DnD game systems? I've only ever played 5e, and I'm a little intimidated to get into other systems, but I also want to branch out and get away from WOTC's bullshit.

Sure thing! I am also including a link to the itch.io pages since that's where i get most of these games!

Blades In The Dark: i'm mentioning this first bc the rules are very easy to grasp and if you're looking for a setting that has a touch of ghosts and steampunk, this game is the perfect gateway to that! it's the best for a heist i have found and the game mechanics and names are so soo sick here's just a slice from their itch.io page:

personally i find the setting and the stress mechanic very cool, because it takes into account the mental toil that an action can have and i find games with inbuilt consequence mechanics very compelling! it introduced the concept of clocks to me and i am obsessed.

a) adjacent to Blades, are all Forged In The Dark Games which are third-party blades games, and the most notable of them is Scum and Villiany which is space-western setting and also my favorite and if you're looking to play a game in the breadth of star-wars like interplanetary politics and everything, i highly recommend this game! b) if you're looking for a Blades game with mechanics to suit something more royalty-adjacent, with court-politics and agendas and masquerade parties and all, like say d20's court of fey and flowers vibe then i recommend Court Of Blades! I havent gotten around to playing this yet but it looks really promising and i soo badly want to play a game in this setting!

2. The Ground Itself : this is a world-building game. focused on one single place over time and how it changes and how it's people change, the events of this game can be spaced out from a week to several millennia depending on the rolls of ur dice or your choices! i have found that this game serves very well as say, a session zero game also, for setting up a place before you play in it, and not only a very fun session of making a place together for your party to play in, but also not leaving all the work to the gm! so it's a win win situation!

tbh, all games by everest pipkin are very good! i wanna get my hands on world ending game as well bc it is a game about giving your campaign, your world-building and your characters the perfect send-off.

3. Wanderhome : if you're looking for something ghibli-esque (this is the closest i can come to defining this game thru popular media) then i highly recommend wanderhome! it's got a very cozy pastoral vibe to it and the art is really beautiful and you get to pick from a range of animal-folk to play as it's very cool!

also honorable mentions,

a) Sleepaway is a game by the same creator in which ur a camp counsellor to a bunch of misfits and horror stories around campfires ensue! b) Yazeba's Bed & Breakfast which is an upcoming game which you can still back and it looks really interesting so i'd recommend checking it out as well!

4. Lancer: this game has mechs it has space-battles and you get to be a pilot in a future set years in the future and a thousand directions to take ur campaign in! he relationship between pilot and mech is smth that can be so personal.....

i wanna play lancer sometime it has very cool mech designs and it has very much piqued my interest, if i find ppl who wanna play lancer w me im 🏃🏃!

5. Heart The City Beneath : honestly, one of my fave settings of all time, it has strong horror components so mind the cws! but the classes and the game mechanics are very intuitive and overall it helps you not only build a character that feels natural and organic, but since this is a horror setting, things do not have happy endings... however it will ensure that your characters have a well-built journey whose ends will be terrifying and magnificent.

I got introduced to the fallout mechanic through this game and oooo how i love it, it's the perfect blend of your actions have consequences + every consequence is interesting and will affect your character deeply and emotionally, which is <33

this list got too long so i will just mention some more here:

the quiet year (very good map-making game, for before the frost shepherds arrive in winter.)

beam saber (forged in the dark game that deserves its on mention! austin ramsey's games i highly recommend!)

thirsty sword lesbians (ecactly what it says on the tin, i wanna check this game out also)

lotr's one ring rpg (this one is the closest substitute to classic d&d bc lets be real. tolkien is where d&d got it's shit from. and i have heard good things abt this game even tho i've never had the chance to play it)

mothership rpg (space horror whose build mechanics are very easy and user-friendly and i've had a LOT of fun with this!)

orbital (one very beautifully written rpg about life in space and it's only 32 pages but well-worth the time, highly recommend)

that's all i can give off the top of my head, i might've missed a few but these are strong standouts, so i hope u find at least one to your liking!

[the-official-account]

Do you love detective stories but hate cops?

Do you love gay detective stories and hate capitalism?

Like disabled main characters who's disability actually comes up?

Like characters of color but not in the mood for stories on racism?

Tempted by the thought of romance at ages of 30+?

Does the idea of stories so queer you'll hesitate before calling any character a "man" or a "woman" make you think "Ah, yes pronoun shenanigans, just like my discord used to make"

And you into an abundance of strong, diverse female and nonbinary characters?

Do you fight for women's wrongs?

I know rep-only recommendations can be annoying, but I'm trying to grab your attention to promote some Indie media. Luckily, though, this post isn't rep-only!

To read my full reccomendation and review of Three of Hearts, click below. ♦️♥️♣️♠️

And if you aren't in the mood for a new thing right now, consider reblogging! Maybe even ping a friend who might be into this! You love supporting queer indie creators!

Note: I am not involved with the making of the show or the game space Kings. I just really like this podcast.

The story

♠️♣️♥️♦️Three of Hearts♦️♥️♣️♠️ centers on two paragovernmental agents in a fantasy, post-war, queernormative 1950s.

Roughly 20 years before the opening, a set of heroes purged magic from the world to turn the tide of the war. But scraps of this thaumaturgic energy still remain. S.U.I.T.S (securing unpredictable injurious thaumaturgic situations) is an agency founded to deal with everything left behind.

When two of the longest standing employees at S.U.I.T.S, Agent Vellum and Agent Felspar, are called onto a new case involving stone crops and a missing person, Felspar isn't surprised (Though Vellum, who's injury had him doing desk work most of his career, is). Things devolve quickly when the Agents realize this case comes from Felspar's home town of Cloven heart, an idyllic magical village that prefers to handle justice on it's own.

Answers yield only more questions, as the Agents realize almost everyone in town has something to hide, and Felspar isn't the only one whose past keeps catching up to him:

How much magic is still around? What's Vellum got sloshing around in there that people think is so juicy? What is Diamond, elven pop star and queer icon, doing in such a small town? Just how big is this case, and how can the Agents balance their legal responsibility, with promises they've made to Cloven Heart?

WHEN. WILL. THEY. JUST. KISS?

(if you're skeptical about central romances, I get it! See notes on aro/aceness and platonic relationships in the rep section for more info)

The combination of magic and newfangled war tech — think telegrams and radios — is somehow just as charming as a rotating cast of characters who will each stake their claim on your heart, but betrayal is imminent and mistrust is rife. The story strikes a wonderful balance between slice of life goodness, and edge-of-your-seat high drama, culminating In a show I highly recommend.

But are they just reskinned cops: my answer has got to be no. While they are technically law enforcement, the main two are entering a commune-like space, where that isn't so welcome. It's a situation they treat with caution and respect. The classic cop-plot of "Should I make myself judge, jury, and executioner because The Bad Guy™ deserves punishment" just isn't a problem. The justice system isn't perfect, in our world or the show's, and the story acknowledges that. But in a social, cultural way, they don't act like cops. They DO act like detectives. But the rules they choose to break and the ones they choose to follow will hopefully satisfy my fellow cop-haters who crave a good mystery

The format

♠️♣️♥️♦️Three of Hearts♦️♥️♣️♠️ is an Indie actual play — this is not DnD, hear me out — podcast in the game Space Kings. All the tension of dice rolls, without drawn out combat or clunkiness, it's a breeze of story-forward listening, even if you've never listened to actually play podcasts before!

If you've tried dnd actual plays, and haven't like the flow of them, I would recommend trying this. A few encounters that may feel random (though they're not) get the story kicked off at a fast pace, but it quickly settles into a story with a tight plot, great pacing, and impactful character development.

The use of a playing card deck to see the outcomes of risky actions means that no matter what happens, success or failure, the tension keeps rising. And the hosts do a wonderful job of explaining mechanics in the show, so it never interrupts the listening experience.

Actual-play connessuires who want to primarily see people playing a game might not be satisfied, as bonuses are given liberally, and I would describe the podcast as more story focused than game focused, But the risks are ALWAYS real, sometimes (often) with thrilling, shocking outcomes.

Also concerned AP listeners should know there's some chaos magic involved! I was surprised when it first came up, and doubtful about how it might affect the story, but it ended up weaving into the rest of the plot really well, and I feel neither like it had no affect, nor like it shook up everything the party was building in an unsatisfying way. Personally I would have preferred to go in knowing it was there, but I also don't think it's major enough to belong in the main synopsis. Now you know, though!

The hosts make a real effort to blend stats and story, and I think the pull it off wonderfully without spending too much time on mechanics. If you want to see that though, session 0 and other details are on the Patreon (where you get the same content no matter how much you pay, at a minimum of a dollar a month).

The pod has all the lighthearted fun and banter of a "friends around the table" show, but never once have I had that "oh my god, I'm not a part of your inside joke, shut up and play!" Feeling.

I think it's a delight for AP and non-AP fans alike.

The episodes: roughly 45- 75 minutes long, with a midtro and some post-end music scenes, so listen through the end music, or check that there isn't extra content by seeing how close the play head is when the end music starts. It's not too long and quite pleasant in my opinion! The midtros always come at a nice moment to step back from the story, and are not too long and not irritating. I enjoyed listening to them! At some point, a midtro starts getting reused, and I was slightly disappointed I wasn't hearing new jokes every episode, but it's a small thing. I skip the repetitive ones with my 30 seconds forward button, and while I haven't timed the Intro, that's worked really well for me. I don't have to fiddle with my play head to make sure I don't skip forward too far. Super convient.

Trigger warnings: the show is pretty lighthearted! Listeners sensitive non-graphic mentions of needles, blood, and/or guns might want to skip on this one, but most episodes don't get heavy. The few that do have pre episodes notes that warn you things get dark, how they get dark, and how to skip the darkest bits. Personally, I listened through them and enjoyed those parts a lot! But if that's not your thing, I agree with the warning that they're very skippable, and I think trigger-sensitive listeners will be pleased. As an indie pod, there are no fan made, super specific lists of triggers. However, my DMs are always open if you have particular concerns, and I'll answer to the best of my ability.

I try to emphasize the balance between lightheartedness and drama, but if you mental health is sensitive to grim & dark media, i think this one is pretty safe. Please always exercise caution! But I'd describe 30♥️s as emotionally restful.

Transcripts: transcripts are in the works, but do not currently exist. Three of Hearts is a non-scripted show, so those are also unavailable

The rep

Don't you hate when someone raves about rep and you go in expecting something good and get like. One dog-boy described as having "chocolate colored skin"? Or when people make a "watch for rep" post and then mention like. Gay and maybe trans people and that's it, even when shows DO have disability and POC rep? Yeah that's not me. Here's the spoiler free rundown, race is at the bottom because I get into more detail with it, not because it isn't important:

Edit: For more on some of these topics from a hosts perspective, see the reblogged addition by @/citrusandsalt

MLM characters: Main characters, one confirmed bi the other unknown

Wlw characters: Reoccurring side characters (present or mentioned in every episode I think) Married. Orientation unspecified.

Enby love: LOTS. It's actually hard to really categorize mlm and wlw stuff because almost every character is nonbinary. Anyways— it's VERY queer

Women: I...I don't know exactly which characters are women 😂. But there are many feminine characters, and they're badass as fuck. Some are compassionate, some are cold, some are chaotic, most are a mix! The two main characters are...masculine...(I say with much hesitation) but you will not feel robbed for your woman-ly content.

Non-traditional family structures: All of the families in the story, pretty much, are non-traditional. Adoption is super common. (You want some wlw who just KEEP adopting kids? You got em) Found family is a MASSIVE force in the story. Also, It's a post-war story.........which is to say almost everyone's parents are dead.

Edit: an MC had poly parents, which may not be obvious but is true!

Polyamory: to my knowledge so far, there are polyam characters, and it is definitely present in the world! But no poly relationships in the forefront. I am about 2/3 through the current episodes, so there may be a present polyamorous relationship later, but also if I confirmed it that would be a spoiler. This may be that "playing it by ear" thing that happens with ttrpgs. I wouldn't listen for the hope of polyamory alone, but I don't tell you it's not there/won't happen.

Trans characters: almost all of them. Might think "oh there are only a few!" And you are wrong. You are so wrong.

Neopronoun users: yup! To my knowledge, minor characters. A handful who use at least he/she/they or they/them and may also use neos in a manner im forgetting

Plurality: no system characters yet, but the creators are friendly, I asked ;)

Platonic relationships: YES. As an aro person who hates so many romance tropes this one gets my stamp of approval. There's no real jealousy drama, exes who communicate and are supportive, and romance doesn't kill friendships. There's a central sibling relationship and non-familial platonic ones that have conflict, drama, resolutions, and a deeply satisfying significance in the story. If you don't like romance at all, this one might not be for you. If you just don't like stories exclusively about romance, I think you'll enjoy this. Genre wise, I'd definitely describe three of hearts as a mystery primarily with a strong romantic subplot, not a romance itself, and that comes through in player and character's additives and priorities.

Aro/ace characters: none confirmed yet to my knowledge. Romance is very central, sex is joked about on occasion but it isn't at the forefront of the story at all. There are many, single characters who are thriving.

Edit: Actually! There is one character who discusses demiromanticism in cannon that I forgot, and another confirmed out of cannon character who is ace. Both are non-main major characters!

Age diversity: the youngest characters in the show are older to middling teens, and the oldest are in their 400s. Okay but the oldest in human terms are roughly 60-70. The most common age range, and the ones the central characters are in, is 30-40. The second most common is that 60-70, then some ~40-50 folks here and there, with people in their 20s being probably the rarest (no named ones off the top of my head?) And there are a small number of teens. This is not a story about youth and youthful beauty. Generally, the older a character becomes the most bad ass/spooky powerful they are, and older characters are very involved in the plot.

Mental illness and neurodivergency: to my knowledge so far no characters are in cannon confirmed to have a specific mental illness or ND, though I wouldn't be surprised if it was part of a character or the main characters, and just hadn't come up. Listeners with cluster b or "scary" disorders, or with conditions that may cause them to lash out, will find satisfaction with how compassionately the narrative treats werefolk. To say more encounters spoilers. I would also say that depression, while the word isn't used and it is not central to the story, is present as a narrative force, and also treated wisely and with compassion. Still, as is usually for a good story, all of these bitches need therapy.

Disability: LOTS. There's a lot of "different, not broken" themes that disabled listeners are likely to love, but both of the main characters are disabled! One is a cane user, the other experiences migraines. These have a genuine, pressing, mechanical impact on the story. It's COMES UP. It's a real joy. For a magical world, there is no magical healing! Or there is, but it isn't a perfect solution, which in my opinion is just a magical version of real healing, though yours may differ! Also, there is a minor, reoccurring character who's a wheelchair user, and I think he's really fun.

Disfigurement: Excuse me if I am not prepared with the most sensitive way to speak about this, but I'm doing my best! There is a character with no eyes or nose, who is central and lovely. To my knowledge, there are no amputee characters or characters with limb differences (of the wheelchair user I'm not sure if it's specified whether or not he has legs). There is a character of questionable morality who has significant facial and bodily disfigurement. In as few spoilers as possible: this was not injury or genetic related. The disfigurement is treated with a firm compassion, and does not exist as a "this character is evil" signal. It's a long arc, but I imagine people who relate will be satisfied, though I cannot speak for anyone.

Characters of color: many! The main two are Hispanic and Asian. Terms like "dark skinned" are used for characters, but in the fantasy world race doesn't exactly translate, and I wouldn't call it "important" in this story. Read more about race below:

Fantasy racism: sort of! The word "race" is used to mean "humanoid species" and I know some folks don't like that? None of these fantasy races are oppressed, but specific people (Magic versus non-magic people) have conflict about that aspect of their identity, and policing is a related concern. I would place the allegory more in the space of transness and disability/neurodivergency if pressed to choose, but it doesn't feel like it's trying to tell a story about real-world oppression, primarily. I have more complicated thoughts on exactly what I'm trying to communicate here, but they involved some spoilers. DM me for more info!

Hosts/creator identity: out of three hosts, two are white, one is not! They are very queer, and disability is also...a thing! These are real life people, so I'm not going to get into detail, but check out their twitters plugged in the show for more on how they self-identify.

Okay but are they racist: Real talk! As a black person who thinks I keep my ears sharp, I would say no! Not at all! This is one of those situations where I was like "YOU'RE WHITE?" And shocked about it, (if you listened to TSCOSI, same vibe) which is a very good thing in my books. The hosts are open and sensitive, and I have no complaints, however, this is just one perspective! This isn't coincidental, race is an active consideration in how the story is told — just not a central theme.

Edit: One of the hosts, Essay (@/citrusandsalts) discussed more on hosts identities in a reblog! If this concerns you, and you want less of me walking on eggshells about other people's identities, read her addition too!

Edit 2: Jordan, the GM also has commented additions!

Minor but worth mentioning: A minor character has a name with what I believe is the Nahuatl "tl" sound in it, which is not pronounced correctly. It's a really hard sound! I can't really do it! But if that really irritates you this might not be the podcast for you.

People who might be interested in this post, as always let me know if you don't want to be pinged (I rarely ever do this) and it won't happen again: @citrusandsalt @fyeahaudiodrama @boombox-fuckboy

[sysmedsaresexist]

Hey we've been thinking about that "OSDD was a temporary diagnosis" post for a while and. it makes complete sense what you guys said but like. we can't get ANYONE to diagnose us as anything CDD, let alone anything that isn't going to give us the treatment equivalent of slapping a bandaid on a stab wound. Is there like, anywhere we could look further into P-DID/DID research on the subject? We're not comfortable moving off of the self diagnosis of OSDD-1b yet so we wanna be triple sure to get as much information as possible.

Thankies 💕💕💕

- 🐑 & 🌸 of the Constellation Collective

There's places all over to find that info, but I want to encourage you not to overthink it. You can dig deeper, you absolutely should, but the label... it doesn't matter. It's really, truly okay to get this one wrong and switch around between the labels or use them interchangeably. I promise. You don't need to be right, because you're right regardless (unless it's a misdiagnosis, but I'm going to talk about that at the end of this, because it's important).

I am diagnosed OSDD, but I call myself DID. It's easy, I understand that there's not that big of a difference, no one is going to yell at us (me or you) if it turns out that we have the other one. We're not misrepresenting ourselves. If it turns out I would only ever be diagnosed with OSDD, that doesn't mean I was wrong using the DID label, or that I was even mislabelling myself.

Whether you're diagnosed with DID or OSDD largely depends on where you live. I made a post about this a while back but I can't find it. The US is more likely to diagnose OSDD with minor amnesia than the UK. They're more likely to call minor amnesia DID (as they should). It's literally a dice throw, and not that important.

To quote my BFF, Colin Ross,

The dividing line between DID and most cases of dissociative disorder not otherwise specified is arbitrary [or OSDD]. Most cases of DDNOS are partial forms of DID which lack either clear switching of executive control, full amnesia barriers between identity states, or clear differentiation and structure of identity states. They are partial forms of DID with the same patterns of childhood trauma and co-morbidity.

Also this quote.

So on the one hand we have a vast swathe of people who are, or would be, diagnosed with OSDD as opposed to dissociative identity disorder but who show almost all of the symptoms of DID. Many people therefore see DID and OSDD as appearing on a spectrum, and prefer to conflate the two conditions so that DID/OSDD represents a range of dissociative experiences with more or less amnesia and greater or less elaboration and distinctive identity states or parts of the personality.

It is also what happens in practice: very few people would realistically distinguish between DID and OSDD.

And,

Both OSDD and DID are the result of the spontaneous action of the brain in response to trauma. Both contain different self-states, holding shards of memory and ‘unformulated experience’ (Stern, 1997). Both can be helped by similar approaches to therapy which encourage neuronal repair and result in brain growth such as increased hippocampal volume. Above all, all forms of dissociation need to be validated for their unique contribution to survival.

P-DID is a bit of a new one. Here's the ICD link to it, if you want to read more, but it's going to be the same as above. It's really not that important. Its main difference is that the system doesn't really switch, it's mostly intrusion (like feelings bleeding between alters and host).

These are really only useful for describing how your system generally functions.

Finally, misdiagnosis.

It's okay to be wrong completely. Maybe it's just BPD or OCD, autism, any of the number of disorders that come with identity confusion.

When someone self DX something like BPD and they finally get to therapy and find out it's literally ANYTHING else, we celebrate with them. Good job, you found answers! You're on the right path! You can get the right kind of help now. You did what you had to do in order to get by, and you did your best to try to understand yourself with the tools you had. The use of the first label wasn't malicious, you didn't hurt anyone by using it, and you probably got yourself pretty knowledgeable on the topic.

You are now a resource for those who are also trying to figure themselves out.

Who knows better what the difference between BPD and OSDD is than someone who tried out both and found the answer?

Being wrong doesn't mean you're bad, I don't know why we don't celebrate a misdiagnosis of DID like we do some others. We're all just trying to understand ourselves, and sometimes we're wrong. The point is that eventually we figure it out, and the journey there... recognizing a misdiagnosis is a GOOD part of your story, and it's an important story to share. You were still struggling, regardless of what label you used and what you're being diagnosed with.

Use the label that feels right to you. If you want to keep using OSDD, that's fine. You're describing how your system works right now, and that's perfect. Using DID or OSDD, you'll end up in the same place regardless-- hopefully this means with a good therapist who's going to take your symptoms seriously, but you're going to end up in that same chair no matter what label you're using.

I really hope this helped.

Also, I didn't really touch on it, but I'm sorry you're struggling to get a diagnosis. That must be incredibly frustrating. Don't give up. Unfortunately, the average is about 5 years for most. Keep advocating for yourself.

[satureja13]

A new episode of The Stables (our spin-off about the Boys' horses) took place! The last one is over a half year ago! And it's been a while since we had all the horses together in one place.

While Ji Ho took a swim in the river, Vlad was trying to stop him: "Be careful!" Tch, if Vlad really 'cared' about him, he wouldn't have ditched him for Kiyoshi! (Yes, you are so brave, Superhorse Yang Mal! Too bad they can't swim for real, but Valerian once ran in the ocean at Sulani the other day.)

When Ji Ho stepped out of the water, he couldn't believe his eyes! Kiyoshi was hitting on Jack and Saiwa and Jeb were kissing? He thought they were supposed to keep their distance to Lothario Kiyoshi! And why did Saiwa not stop Kiyoshi (to protect Jack from him, as promised) and gets so distracted by Jeb, who hurt him so much by cheating on him with Vlad?! Plus - he thought Jeb and Jack had something going on! Jeb even wanted to marry Jack!

"What are you all doing?!" Ji Ho yelled at them. Jack rose in shock: "What am I doing! Was he seducing me? Leave me alone, cheater! And what are you doing, Jeb? And you, making out with your ex, Saiwa. You told me it is over! Both of you! I was so close trusting you, Jeb!" Saiwa: "Oh no, what have I done! I'm so sorry, Jack. I was out of my mind. I failed you."

Jeb: "Saiwa, we need to talk..." Saiwa: "There's nothing more to say, Jeb."

'I don't wanna talk, about things we've gone through Though it's hurting me, now it's history I've played all my cards and that's what you've done too Nothing more to say, no more ace to play

I was in your arms, thinking I belonged there I figured it made sense, building me a fence Building me a home, thinking I'd be strong there But I was a fool, playing by the rules

The gods may throw a dice, their minds as cold as ice And someone way down here, loses someone dear But tell me, does she kiss, like I used to kiss you? Does it feel the same when she calls your name?

The judges will decide, the likes of me abide Spectators of the show, always staying low The game is on again, a lover or a friend A big thing or a small, the winner takes it all

I don't wanna talk, if it makes you feel sad And I understand, you've come to shake my hand I apologize, if it makes you feel bad Seeing me so tense, no self-confidence' ABBA - The Winner takes it All

Jack: "I think we need to talk, Jeb!"

They argued back and forth... (Isn't this amazing how much character and expressions the horses have? They are so well done <3)

Vlad said nothing, he just sighed. Did he held his hopes too high that Kiyoshi would choose him over all his other affairs? He must hurt too... And stupid Ji Ho still feels for Vlad, after all that has happened... He'd even begged Kiyoshi to not steal Vlad from him, in vain. And Ji Ho also knows how irresistable Kiyoshi is.

Jeb to Kiyoshi: "I told you to leave Jack alone and not to play with him!" Kiyoshi: "You're one to talk, you just hurt him more than I ever could."

Saiwa has enough of this charade: "We're leaving! Come on, Jack!" Kiyoshi to Jack: "Jack, come with me. I'll take good care of you." Jack: "What? No!" Jeb is leaving too, he needs time to think.

Even the birds are so done with them! hahaha

The Stables from the beginning -> here

[purrincess-chat]

In Breakable Heaven CH1

It's @ladrienjune yall!

And I know what you're all thinking

But I finally wrote something! One chapter of a thing. For now, but more will be coming, I promise! As I mentioned previously, I am moving for the next couple weeks, but I will hopefully have some down time to write here and there. I also still need to plan the ending for this fic, but shhhhh that's future Cat's problem ;) Anywho, here's the beginning of a Ladrien secret-dating adventure. Enjoy~

This chapter covers days 6, 7, and 8 (social media, jealousy, and biggest fan respectively).

Read on AO3

Rating: G

Summary:

When Adrien wins a contest on the Ladyblog, he catches the attention of Ladybug herself and scores more than just an opportunity to hang out with her. Caught in a fever dream high, the two lovebirds try to navigate their budding relationship away from the public eye and find that keeping secrets is a lot harder than they anticipated. Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, what doesn't kill them makes them want each other more, and they'll do whatever it takes to stay in breakable heaven.

Chapter 1

“You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes”

“Alright, Bugheads, now onto the big announcement! With summer holidays coming up, I thought it would be a fun time to host a little contest, and ask the question: How well you know our resident superheroine? I’ve created a quiz that only the most die-hard fans will be able to pass because the stakes on this one are high. The person with the highest score will get to spend an afternoon with Ladybug! And don’t worry, this was approved by the head bug herself! Details for entry are listed below. Best of luck to all of you, and don’t forget to stay connected!”  Alya’s cheery lilt ended on Adrien’s computer screen, and he leaned back in his chair.

“A whole afternoon with Ladybug?” He swooned.

“What’s the big deal? You already spend every afternoon with her.” Plagg hovered over Adrien’s head with a wedge of cheese.

“Yeah, when we’re fighting bad guys,” Adrien said pointedly. “She never wants to spend time with me outside of work. This could be my chance to finally see a movie with her.”

“What’s the appeal of seeing a movie anyway? You just sit next to each other in silence for several hours. The only plus is the buttery popcorn with its salty, crunchy, oily goodness...” Plagg shoved the cheese into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “On second thought, why don’t you and I go see a movie? I’m much better company.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and clicked the leaderboard in the comments of Alya’s post. Someone had already gotten a decently high score on the quiz, only a few points away from perfect. A few scrolls down, the same username popped up again, and Adrien’s grip tightened on his mouse.

ladybugsfuturebf: Good luck beating my score! Only Ladybug herself could score higher. Can’t wait to spend one-on-one time with her on our date!

“Who does this guy think he is? A date? Ladybug’s future boyfriend? Before me?” Adrien scoffed.

“Need I remind you, the contest is to win a chance to hang out with her, not date her,” Plagg said.

What kind of flowers do you think she likes? Oh, wait! I already answered that on the quiz! She’s gonna be so impressed she’ll forget all about Chat Noir.

Adrien’s teeth ground together. There was no way such a boastful, arrogant person was in the lead. And forget about him? Please, he was Ladybug’s best friend! No one knew her better than him. He could ace that quiz in no time.

“What are you doing?” Plagg sighed as Adrien clicked the entry form.

“Oh, come on, Plagg. I can’t let that guy win! If anyone is going to win a date with Ladybug, it’s me! I know her better than anyone,” Adrien said.

Plagg floated down in front of his face. “And you don’t think it’s going to be a problem if you get a perfect score? Let’s just broadcast to the world that you’re Chat Noir!”

“I’m not that dense, Plagg.” Adrien waved him out of the way. “I’ll sign up with a fake email and username. No one will ever know Adrien Agreste won.”

Pursing his lips, he tapped the keys of his keyboard in thought on the account creation screen. He needed something inconspicuous, but not too mysterious. Something that wouldn’t be surprising when Chat Noir revealed himself as the winner, but also, not something that would be a dead giveaway that it was him. He didn’t want Ladybug to disqualify him for cheating. Besides, he wasn’t really cheating. There were no rules that her best friend and partner couldn’t enter…

He’d keep it simple but on brand — thecatsmeow had a nice ring to it, and it was surprisingly not taken. Now that his account was squared away, he just had to pass the quiz. 40 questions? Piece of cake.

What is Ladybug’s favorite color? Easy, pink.

Favorite musical artist? Jagged Stone.

Eye color?

It was almost sad how easy the questions were, and before he knew it, he’d finished. Adrien sat back as the site tabulated his score, and Plagg came to a rest on the top of his chair. A perfect score flashed on the screen, and Adrien shot up with a whoop.

“Yes! Take that ladybugsfuturebf!” he cheered.

“Don’t you think Ladybug is going to be mad when she finds out you won?” Plagg asked.

“Oh, come on. If anything, this just proves how much I pay attention. She’ll be impressed that I know her so well,” he said. At Plagg’s skeptical expression, Adrien sat back down. “And she’s not going to have a choice because I won fair and square.”

“You’re delusional.” Plagg floated off.

Adrien shrugged it off, smiling at his username at the top of the leaderboard. He was finally going to get that movie date with Ladybug! Nothing was going to sour his mood.

***

The next day, Adrien arrived at school as usual, shutting the door to his silver town car without a second thought. After winning the date with Ladybug, he was on cloud nine, imaging how romantic it would be in the dark theater. Maybe he’d pick a horror movie and hold her when she got scared. Oh! And their hands could brush as they both reached for popcorn at the same time! Entering the contest was the best idea he’d ever had.

“There’s no way it’s not him. Chat Noir totally won the contest,” Alya said as he entered the classroom.

Adrien stopped in his tracks. Okay, maybe not his best idea, but it was fine because he used a fake account. There was no way they traced it back to him.

None of them paid him any mind as he took his seat beside Nino, who was tapping his chin in thought.

“But why would Chat Noir need to enter a contest to spend time with Ladybug. He spends like the most time with her out of everyone,” Nino said.

“It’s so obvious. He’s been trying to get her to go to the movies with him for like ever, and now she has to say yes,” Alya said.

“Shouldn’t that be against the rules or something?” Marinette asked. “I mean, they spend so much time together, of course he’d know all the answers.”

“I’m willing to allow it because I think it’s really funny, and I don’t mind being Chat Noir’s wing woman.” She shrugged.

“Alya!” Marinette gasped.

“What? I want them to get together. Sue me.” Alya giggled.

“Hey, didn’t all the contestants have to have valid accounts to enter? What’s the name on the email address for the username that won?” Nino asked.

Adrien stiffened.

“Way ahead of you,” Alya said. “I looked right after the results posted, but the email is registered to an obvious alias, which further proves that it’s Chat Noir. He wouldn’t use his real name. He may not always look it, but he’s a smart cat.”

He wasn’t sure if he should be offended by that statement or not.  

“Dang, would have been cool if we learned who he was,” Nino said.

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief when they let it drop. Everything was fine, and Alya wasn’t going to disqualify him. He could already taste the popcorn!

“Ya know,” it was Max who spoke up, having stopped midway up the stairs to his desk upon overhearing their conversation, “if you’re interested in knowing who the account really belongs to, I can track the IP address.”

Adrien’s heart shot up to his throat.

“Wait, for real?” Alya perked up.

“That would be totally awesome!” Nino added.

Maybe it would be fine. His father paid for crazy firewalls to protect his design secrets. No way anyone could get through them… Right?

“I recently upgraded Markov’s tracking capacity. I can crack a low-grade military firewall and find an address with pin-point accuracy,” Max said.

Most of the time, Adrien was amazed at Max’s genius, but today he was terrified of it. Plagg was right, entering the quiz was a surefire way to get him caught!

“Guys, that’s an invasion of privacy! Besides, don’t you think it will be dangerous if it is Chat Noir? I mean, exposing his identity will lead Hawkmoth right to his door. You’re practically handing him his Miraculous,” Marinette, his sweet pig-tailed savior, said.

Adrien cleared his throat and turned around, “Yeah, Marinette’s right. I think it will cause more trouble than it’s worth.” For him specifically.

“Chill out, I’m not going to post it online or anything. I just think if we knew who he was we could help him. I can be the girl on the ground, and I can also give him tips to fix his pitiful attempts at flirting with Ladybug,” Alya said.

Pitiful! Oh, she was definitely getting snubbed next time she asked for an interview.

“Alya, it’s dangerous and wrong. Even if he entered the contest for selfish reasons, that doesn’t mean you can invade his privacy like that.” Marinette chided. “Promise me you won’t look into it. It would put all of you and him in danger.”

Alya pursed her lips, exchanging glances with Max and Nino before slumping in her seat.

“Fine, I won’t look into it,” she said.

“Good,” Marinette said as Mlle. Bustier entered and called for everyone to find their seats.

Adrien turned back around, breathing out a ragged sigh. That was close, but it had all worked out in the end. He’d have to stop by the bakery later and buy a caseload of chouquettes to thank Marinette. Her level-head really saved his hide.

As the day wore on, Adrien pushed the morning’s conversation from his mind, though he had a feeling Plagg would give him an earful about it later. It would all be worth it when he and Ladybug finally went on their date. Could he get cherry blossoms this time of year? They were just barely out of season, but he could probably pull a few strings.

He pulled out his phone to check as he entered the library, and he’d almost found a promising listing when he rounded the corner and found Alya and Max crowded around a laptop at a table. Ducking back behind the bookshelf, he strained his ears to listen.

“His firewall is surprisingly good, it may take me a while to crack,” Max was saying.

“But you can definitely get around it?” Alya asked.

“Of course, what do you take me for?” Max scoffed.

They were going through with it after all! Adrien’s heart sped up, his palms growing shaky and sweaty. He should go over to their table and call them out for going back on their word, but would it be suspicious if he got onto them? Why would he be so bent on keeping Chat Noir’s identity secret unless he was Chat Noir? This was bad! What should he do?

Adrien bolted from the library, peering out over the railing at the courtyard below. Marinette was sketching quietly on a bench, and he raced to her side. She looked up at him with wide eyes, recoiling back with a nervous smile, probably in response to how desperate and deranged he looked, but there was no time to worry about that.

“Marinette, we have to stop Alya and Max. They’re in the library trying to crack Chat Noir’s firewall right now!” He panted.

“What?” She abandoned her sketchbook on the bench and took the lead back up the stairs to the library.

She burst through the doors and stormed over to their table, and Adrien did his best to look supportive but not too panicked. Alya winced when she saw them, and Marinette placed her hands on her hips.

“So, you were just going to go behind my back and do it anyways?” She scoffed.

“I’m sorry, girl! But think of how much good we could do if we could team up and help him!” Alya said.

“Think of how much danger you’re putting yourselves in! If Hawkmoth finds out you know his identity, he’ll come after you and your families. What if one of you gets akumatized? You could get hurt. Chat Noir could get hurt or worse!” Marinette said.

“She’s right. You guys shouldn’t go through with this,” Adrien added.

“I’m almost through the firewall,” Max said.

“Call it off, Max!” Marinette ordered.

“Keep going! We’re so close!” Alya pleaded. She turned to Marinette and pressed her palms together. “Look, I know it’s risky, but what if we can help take down Hawkmoth? That’s worth the risk, right?”

“It’s not our job! We don’t have superpowers, and it can put us and the people we love in danger!” Marinette placed her hands on Alya’s shoulders. “Please, stop.”

“Girl, I know you’re scared for me, but I promise I’ll be careful. ‘All that’s necessary for the triumph of evil-”

“That doesn’t apply here!” Marinette shook her head.

“I made it through the firewall!” Max said. “A few more seconds, and I can tell you exactly where he lives.”

Marinette and Alya were at a stand-off, and every clack of Max’s keyboard was a nail in Adrien’s coffin. He didn’t have a choice, but if they were going to find out it was him, he was going to do whatever it took to convince them he wasn’t Chat Noir. He just hoped Ladybug didn’t think he was a total freak afterward.

“It’s me!” He blurted. When Marinette and Alya turned to him with quirked brows, he let out a sigh. “I’m the one who won the contest. I’m thecatsmeow.”

Max’s keyboard went silent, and he turned the screen to face them where Adrien’s home address was flashing. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Whoa, so you’re Chat Noir?” Alya grinned.

“No!” Adrien held up cautioning hands. “I’m just, uhh, I didn’t want my father to know I entered, so I used a fake profile. There’s no way he would have let me go if he knew about it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Marinette asked.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “I guess I was just embarrassed. I didn’t want any of you to think less of me.”

“I don’t think less of you!” Marinette assured him. “I-I mean, you won the contest fair and square, and you had every right to enter.”

Alya’s eyes narrowed, and Adrien shrank under her gaze.

“I’m still not entirely convinced. Ladybug and I made some of those questions crazy specific. How would you know she doesn’t like anchovies on her pizza, or that she likes lemon in her tea?” Alya crossed her arms over her chest.

“I… have a lot of money and free time.” He shrugged. “I got a bunch of drone cameras and spy equipment, and I watch her and Chat Noir all the time.” When everyone stared at him with wide eyes, he quickly added, “Not in a creepy way! I just admire her.”

“…You don’t know her identity, do you?” Marinette asked.

“No, of course not! I’d never do something like that.” Adrien shook his head. “I’m just…her biggest fan.”

Alya looked him up and down, her skeptical expression giving way to a smile. “You could have just said something. I mean, you know how freak-crazy I am about all of this. I would have understood.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just used to keeping a lot of my interests a secret because I have my father’s brand to consider — and my father to consider. If he knew what I was doing, he’d put an end to it immediately.” Adrien traced his thumb over his ring behind his back.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about us. Your secret’s safe.” Alya placed a hand on his shoulder with a wink. “Though, I may need to borrow your drone from time to time as payment.”

“Alya,” Marinette said in a warning tone.

“We’ll discuss the details later,” she said. “And if you ever want to talk Ladybug, I’m always here.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, letting his shoulders relax.

“Though, I am still a bit confused on your logic. I mean, you won the contest, so you were going to have to reveal it was you eventually to claim your prize. What was your plan there?” Alya quirked a brow.

“Uhh, wear a disguise?” Adrien said with a wince.

Alya threw her head back with a laugh. “Well, congrats on winning. I’ll pass the message on to Ladybug that you’re the winner, and we’ll arrange your prize soon.”

“Thanks,” Adrien said.

When the bell rang, Alya and Max packed up, and Adrien breathed a sigh of relief as they headed to their next class. That was way too close, but somehow, he’d managed to convince them. Plagg was going to scold him later.

Marinette fell into step beside him, tugging at her blazer.

“Um, congrats on winning,” she said. “I-I think it’s a good thing you won instead of some weirdo. I mean, if I was Ladybug, I’d be happy you won because it means we’d get to spend time together, and who wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”

Adrien smiled at her. “Thanks. I’m looking forward to hanging out with her. I admire her a lot,” he said. “And thanks for your help earlier.”

“N-n- Mmmhmm.” Marinette nodded.

She fell back to link up with Alya, and Adrien bit back a smile. It wasn’t exactly what he’d planned, but he still got to spend time with Ladybug either way. And who knew? Maybe there would be advantages to her going with Adrien Agreste instead of Chat Noir. At least this way, she couldn’t scold him. Besides, it didn’t matter to him which side she fell in love with, so long as it was him. He couldn’t wait for their date!

[kittymaine]

Five Idiots Look For a Cave - Chapter One

Summary: Laios and his sister Falin are hired to guard a wagon of provisions as it travels from the city of Neverwinter to the small frontier settlement of Phandalin. It seems like a dead easy job, but it quickly becomes more complicated when their employer is kidnapped by goblins, sending them on a wild goose chase across the most dangerous parts of the Sword Coast in search of him with a ragtag group of unlikely allies.

Or, I make the dunmeshi guys play through the Lost Mines of Phandelver, because why not.

A/N: This is such a weird project to tag and explain, but I'm going to try.

For those familiar with Delicious In Dungeon, but not Dungeons & Dragons: The Lost Mines of Phandelver is the scenario/campaign that's provided in the starter set that you can buy for Dungeons & Dragons. I've run this campaign a bunch of times during my years playing Dungeons & Dragons and I thought the characters of dunmeshi were just begging to be dropped into a D&D game. So, that's what I did. The plot of this story is the campaign, Lost Mines of Phandelver, and whenever the characters need to do something, I roll dice to see whether they can do it or not. Combat, investigation, everything. I am literally playing this game by myself and then converting it into a fic.

For those familiar with Dungeons & Dragons, but not Delicious In Dungeon: Delicious In Dungeon is an anime set in a fantasy world where dungeon diving is a well-known career choice. The setting and characters are such a good match to Dungeons & Dragons that I had to change very little to get the characters to fit into a Forgotten Realms setting.

All that to say, the story should be digestible by anyone, even if you're not familiar with both fandoms.

Also, just a warning that I don't really have an in depth plan for this story, so I'm going to add tags and relationships as I go. I really like Chilchuck/Laios and Falin/Marcille, so those are the two pairings most likely to be added, but no promises either way. I'll make sure to warn if I add anything at the beginning of each chapter.

Laios Touden and his sister Falin stood by while the wagon they had been paid to accompany was loaded up with supplies. Young men barely more than boys hauled barrels and burlap sacks of provisions up into the old warped bed of the wagon, more passing up shovels, pickaxes and crowbars. Laios counted about twelve sacks of flour, seven casks of salted pork, two kegs of strong ale, five lanterns, and a small barrel of oil.

It was early, just an hour before dawn, but the south gate out of the city of Neverwinter was already starting to bustle with traffic. Mostly it was wagons not unlike their own, though filled with produce and other products from the farms circling the city that served to feed the swollen populace within the city walls. From farther north the smell of baking bread and roasting meat signaled the beginning of breakfast for the many people packed in close behind thick the stone walls.

Laios was ready to leave the city. He had grown up in the far north, surrounded by rolling fields, freezing cold fjords, and winter lashed forests. He had lived in a lot of places since he had left his home, but cities were never his favorite. There were too many people, too close, all smelling and talking and leaving their things everywhere. He was looking forward to being outside the city walls for a while, but they had to wait until the wagon was full before they could leave.

“Toudens!” a boisterous voice called from the main thoroughfare.

Falin, standing beside him and watching the loading of the wagon with more interest than Laios, smiled and raised her hand at the call. Slower, Laios raised his hand as well, to wave to their most recent employer.

A dwarf with rust colored red hair and beard sitting atop a pretty dapple gray pony split from the little stream of people leaving the city through the south gate and came toward Laios and the steadily filling wagon. Following behind him was an older human man wearing chain mail and riding on a three quarter sized bay mare with another small dwarf with a thick black beard witting sideways on the horse’s haunches behind him.

“Mr. Rockseeker,” Laios greeted him as he pulled his horse up close. He didn’t step down to talk to Laios, but he didn’t begrudge him. Laios wondered how the dwarf had managed to get onto the horse in the first place.

“Please, call me Gundren,” Mr. Rockseeker said with a twinkling smile. His nose and cheeks were ruddy red above his red beard. “Mr. Rockseeker was my father.”

Laios stared at Gundren blankly until he heard Falin snort out a laugh and he realized that the nonsensical statement was a joke. He quickly barked a laugh out that felt false even to his ears. But, if Gundren noticed, it didn’t show on his face that Laios could tell.

“It looks like everyone is here, so I hope you don’t mind if I introduce you to my nephew-” Gundren started to say before being interrupted by Falin.

“Oh, actually! We’re still waiting for a friend of mine who offered to come along,” she explained with a pleasant smile.

Gundren’s face did something too complicated for Laios to follow. “A friend?” he asked uncertainly.

“Who’s everyone?” Laios asked, wondering if Gundren had meant him and Falin. He thought you usually would say ‘both’ instead of ‘everyone’ if you were just addressing two people, though he was no stranger to being wrong when it came to things like that.

“He means me,” a surly voice from near Laios’ hip grumbled, making him jump about a foot in the air and turn around.

Laios hadn’t heard anyone approach, but a halfling man with short brown hair peppered with a few fine gray hairs and big ears was standing right beside him, his arms folded in front of his chest. He had a soft looking green muffler looped around his neck and worn leather armor over a plain white shirt and dark pants. And, he apparently noticed Laios staring, as he threw a nasty look up at Laios after a few second of him looking a little too intently.

He was usually pretty bad at interpreting people’s expressions, but it was hard to misunderstand that kind of look.

Laios tuned back into Falin and Gundren’s conversation just in time to see them get interrupted by Marcille stumbling up to them, panting and bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Her long blonde hair was braided in a complicated style that left half of it piled on top of her head, and half it hanging long down her back and she was wearing a pretty blue dress that looked warm but a little impractical for hard travel. As well as her spell book and quarterstaff of course.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she gasped. “I told the innkeeper to wake me up, but she never came! I ran the whole” she paused to take another gasping breath, “way here!”

“I won’t be able to pay another person,” Grundren said to Laios, turning his back on the two women.

“Falin and I will split our pay with her. She’s a good friend of ours. She’s trustworthy,” Laios explained, he hoped sufficiently, for Gundren.

Gundren’s eyebrows did some wiggling, shadowing his small dark eyes for a moment, but then he sighed and his shoulders slumped, and the warm smile and the twinkling eyes were back as if they had never left.

“Well, that’s alright then. Anyway, I wanted to introduce you all to my nephew, Senshi,” he said, turning to gesture to the two men behind him. The human man had helped the dwarf off the tall horse and he was walking up to the small group. “He’ll be accompanying the rest of you on the wagon to Phandalin.”

A chorus of hellos in various levels of enthusiasm came from the small group gathered by the side of the wagon. Senshi looked a lot like Gundren, if the coloring was a lot darker and his face a lot less expressive. Senshi had a long thick wavy beard that matched his thick wavy hair and a slightly receding hairline. His eyebrows were thick and his eyes were small, dark and keen. It was hard to read Senshi’s expression. Laios suspected that was probably true even for people who weren’t him.

“With that, I’ll have to bid farewell,” Gundren said with a little half bow from the top of his pony. “I look forward to meeting with the rest of you in Phandalin.”

“We won’t be traveling together?” the halfling man spoke up. He looked uncertainly at Laios and the others, before turning a frustrated expression up at Gundren.

“It’s faster to travel by horse than by wagon and I have some business to finish up in Phandalin before you all get there. But, you all won’t be far behind me,” Gundren said, already turning his pony around. The human man was mounting his mare, as well, turning her nose toward the south gate. “Take good care of those supplies!” he called over his shoulder as he rejoined the press of people heading toward the walls of the city.

The five left behind awkwardly glanced around at each other. Laios, Falin and Marcille stood together, looking down at the two smaller men who would apparently be their traveling companions for the next two or three days.

While they had been talking, the last of the supplies had been loaded into the wagon and the men who had been doing the loading had left. There was nothing to keep them there but uncertainty about their new companions.

Finally, the halfling man broke the silence with a derisive sniff. “I’ll drive the wagon,” he said. “The rest of you can ride in the back until we get out of the crowd.”

With that, he stepped away from the others and jumped a little to reach the bench at the front of the wagon and confidently took the reins. He looked over his shoulder impatiently and the others took the hint.

“Uh, right. Thanks!” Laios said, probably way too late by the way that the halfling man sucked his teeth at Laios, but Falin always said better late than never.

His chain mail clinking, Laios climbed up into the wagon behind Marcille and Falin, who had already claimed the most comfortable spots on top of the flour sacks. He reached back behind him to help pull the dwarf man, Senshi, up into the wagon as well and got a friendly nod in thanks. Together, he and the other man had to make do trying to find a comfortable spot between the tools and barrels.

Once everyone had stopped shifting, the halfling man flicked the reins and the old horses hitched to the wagon started off, pulling the rattling wooden wheels across cobblestones out of Neverwinter and south along the well maintained High Road toward their destination.

---

They made camp the first night in a little windswept area off the left side of the road alongside a number of other travelers. Their campfires flickered orange in the moonlight, lighting up the worn cobblestones of the road even if it was too dark for anyone to keep moving. The air was brisk since the shoreline was close, close enough that you could hear the soft crashing of waves on the beach in the small silences between the campsites.

“I’m surprised they only gave us five ration packs each,” Marcille said into the silence as they all sat around the fire munching away at the hard bread, dried meat and sharp cheese that had been wrapped up in wax paper for them by the same store that had loaded the wagon up for Gundren.

“It shouldn’t take us more than two days to get to Phandalin,” Chilchuck answered her from around a mouthful of bread. Chilchuck Tims was the halfling man. After half a day of traveling by wagon, Laios had finally worked up the courage to ask and was pleasantly surprised when he answered.

“Still, tis foolish to not prepare for a longer trip. Who knows what trouble we may meet on the road,” the dwarf, Senshi, said as he looked down and rubbed the dried meat between his thick blunt fingers. Laios wondered if he was trying to soften it with his hands first. He wondered if it worked.

“Senshi is right,” Laios said after a second. “If it does end up taking us longer than two days to reach Phandalin, we’ll be in a real bind.”

“We’re not going to die if we have to go a day or two without food,” Chilchuck responded, but he looked a little unhappy at the thought.

Laios shared a look with Falin at that. He supposed that was true, but he had gone without eating before on expeditions that went wrong and it wasn’t something he wanted to repeat if he could help it.

“What made you take this job, Chilchuck?” Marcille asked after an awkward moment of silence. “You seemed surprised to see other people.”

Chilchuck frowned back at her. “What made you take this job?” he asked back.

Undeterred, Marcille answered, “Well, I didn’t really take it so much as I agreed to tag along.” Turning to Falin, she asked, “What made you guys take it?”

“Laios saw the job posting at the guild,” Falin explained as she broke off a piece of her cheese and offered it to Marcille who hummed happily as she popped it in her mouth. “He’s my brother and I often accompany him on jobs that take him out of the city.”

“Yep,” Laios added, thinking back. “Falin has saved my life more times than I could count. But, this job sounded easy and straight forward. ‘10 gold to escort provisions to Phandalin with option to make more. For reliable persons only.’ “ Laios recited from memory. “Seemed just like the thing for me and Falin.”

“Ye belong to an adventurer’s guild, then?” Senshi asked Laios with a raised eyebrow.

Laios wrinkled his nose as he realized that, even if it was true, saying he was part of the adventurer’s guild was probably a little misleading.

“I only just joined a month ago. I’m still pretty green. Easy jobs like this are the only ones I’m qualified for,” Laios said hesitantly.

“But, Laios is really amazing in a fight! That’s how he got into the guild, by proving himself in a tournament. He’ll climb the ranks in no time!” Falin added with an enthusiastic grin thrown in Laios’ direction. Even if the praise made him more self-conscious, it warmed something in his heart to have her support and encouragement.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck.

“And, you’re just tagging along?” Chilchuck asked Marcille, doubt thick in his tone.

“Uh, well,” Marcille fumbled, seeming a little taken off guard by the question.

“Marcille is a friend of mine from temple,” Falin jumped in to say. “She just moved to Neverwinter and we’ve been showing her around. We didn’t want to leave her alone in the city for however long the job took, so we invited her along.”

Marcille and Falin shared a speaking look, something that Laios could recognize from the outside but not totally understand. Sometimes it seemed like they could have whole conversations with just their faces, in a few brief seconds snatched between words. It seemed an impossible kind of skill, one that he envied and was a little mystified by.

“That’s right,” Marcille agreed, her nose and ears a shade pinker than they had been a moment ago. “But, you still haven’t answered my question. I understand why Mr. Rockseeker wanted someone like Laios to guard his provisions on the road to Phandalin, but I’m not really sure how you fit into this.” She gave Chilchuck a piercing look, one he returned with an unhappy twist of his lips.

But, after only a moment, he sighed and sagged back against the fallen log he had sat himself against.

“Me and Gundren go way back. We used to go dungeon diving together back when I was younger. He was always decent to me. All he told me was that he had some kind of crazy opportunity opening up in Phandalin that I would want to get in on and to meet him there by the gates. He didn’t mention I’d be riding in a wagon with a bunch of strangers while he went on ahead,” Chilchuck finished with a dirty look aimed at the dirt by his foot. Laios didn’t have to be good at understanding people to understand that Chilchuck probably wished he could aim that look at Gundren instead.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Marcille sighed.

“Aye, I’m sorry to hear that. My uncle isn’t always the most considerate. Especially when he’s on a job,” Senshi added with a sorrowful nod of his head.

Chilchuck waved his hand, as if he could swat the condolences offered to him out of the air. “Whatever,” he said. “What’s done is done. I owe you all an apology, anyway. I didn’t mean to take my bad mood out on all of you.”

“Well, it’s a bit understandable,” Falin offered with a smile.

“Yeah, we didn’t take it personally,” Laios said with a shrug. He had assumed that the behavior he’d seen so far had been Chilchuck’s normal personality. It was sort of nice to hear that it wasn’t.

“Gundren is your uncle, huh?” Laios asked, changing the focus to Senshi. “Is there anything you can tell us about him? I only got to speak to him a little bit before taking this job.”

“Aye, he is my uncle, though our family is large and he is one of five uncles of mine,” Senshi explained. “There’s not much I can tell you about him, unfortunately. He and two of my uncles do much treasure hunting in the mountains about Neverwinter. I suspect that’s how you came into contact with him?” Senshi asked Chilchuck.

“Yep,” Chilchuck said. “I’m a locksmith by trade, but I have a reputation for being skilled at disarming dwarvish traps. He hired me way back when I was just starting out and is half the reason I have that reputation.”

“Do you have an interest in treasure hunting, Senshi?” Falin asked curiously.

Senshi stared into their crackling fire, his usually expressionless face becoming sorrowful. “Nay, not I. Not anymore.”

Laios looked around at the others, hoping someone more skilled at talking would interrupt the sad lonesome silence that had descended over Senshi. Unfortunately, it looked like everyone else was casting around to each other for the same thing.

Luckily, it was Senshi himself who broke the long silence. “I suspect my uncle thinks me a bit of a layabout. I don’t do any of the traditional dwarven pursuits. Mining, blacksmithing, gold prospecting. I’m sure whatever job he wants me to help with it will be something like that.”

“And, what is it that you like to do, Senshi?” Falin asked gently.

Senshi looked up for the first time since he had started talking.

“Cooking,” he said decisively. “I love to cook.”

Falin clapped her hands in joy. “Oh that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“What do you like to cook most?” Marcille asked.

“Do you have a specialty?” Chilchuck asked with interest.

Laios smiled as the conversation lightened and turned lively as everyone talked and shared about food, their favorite foods, their family recipes, regional specialties they knew of.

It seemed like the ice had been broken and even if they weren’t friends they were well on their way to getting there.

---

The next morning they got an early start, eating their third ration for breakfast quickly before cleaning up the last embers of their campfire and packing up so they could get back on the road. They were not on the high road for long before they turned left onto a small dirt track with a simple sign marking it as the Triboar Trail.

It’s this road that they would take for the rest of the day and hopefully reach the small settlement town of Phandalin before nightfall.

Laios didn’t know much about the town of Phandalin. From what little he heard from other people in the guild, it was a tiny town just on the edge of the wilderness that was built on the remnants of another older settlement. It sat on the edge of the foothills of the Sword Mountains and was mostly populated by miners and the people who ran businesses that served them.

This part was the part of the journey that he had been hired for. The Triboar Trail was really that, just a worn down dirt trail leading off into untamed and largely uninhabited woods and meadows. All manner of creatures, bandits and beasts populated those lands and would have likely loved to get their hands on a wagon full of supplies like what they had.

A shiver of anticipation ran down Laios’ back as he imagined the types of monsters known to haunt the woods around them. There were stirges, of course, terrible little mosquito like creatures about the length of your arm that attacked suddenly and would try to drain their victims of blood. Ghouls could come out at night, ethereal specters of long dead travelers looking for warm bodies to possess. Ogres preferred the foothills, but they could wander close enough that running into one traveling afield for hunting wouldn’t be out of the question. Then there were goblins, orcs, owlbears! The list just went on.

Laios couldn’t suppress a whine of excitement at the thought. The sound, as quiet as it was, was still noticed by the halfling sitting beside him on the bench at the front of the wagon. Chilchuck jumped a little at the sound and gave Laios an uncertain look.

“Oh, uh,” Laios fumbled, trying to think of an explanation that didn’t include explaining that he was just excited to finally be entering monster country. “Just had a tickle in my throat,” he landed on lamely.

Chilchuck gave him a suspicious squint, but turned back to examining the road in front of them.

They continued on like that throughout the morning. Marcille and Falin occasionally walked beside the horses, the two old things walking slow enough that the women had no issues keeping up with them at a brisk walk. Senshi said his legs were too short to keep up and instead enjoyed relaxing on the flour sacks and making small talk.

It turned out that Senshi had traveled all over the world cooking and learning new cooking techniques. Marcille, the most well traveled of all of them, was especially impressed with him and got him to talking about all the far flung places he had visited.

Unfortunately for Laios, not a single monster accosted them that whole morning, even though both he and Chilchuck in front of the wagon were trying to keep a weather eye out for any movement in the brush on the sides of the road.

That is, until they reached a road block just before noon.

Just as they turned a bend in the road, they came upon a distressing sight. Two horses lying dead on their sides in the center of the road, numerous arrows pointing up out of their sides.

Chilchuck pulled the wagon to a stop as soon as they saw them and everyone stopped and stared.

“Those are Gundren and Sildar’s horses,” Senshi said slowly, looking at the two dead horses from between Chilchuck and Laios.

“Sildar?” Laios asked.

“The human man that was with Gundren yesterday morning. His bodyguard,” Senshi explained.

“I don’t like this. This feels like a set up,” Chilchuck whispered, furrowing his brow and barely raising his voice enough to be heard by the two men sitting right beside him.

“Even if we don’t trust it, we won’t be able to get the wagon past unless we move the horses,” Laios said with a thoughtful frown.

“Maybe you could use your magic to move them?” Falin asked Marcille.

Marcille fidgeted with her cape, tugging on the silky red ribbon at the front. “I couldn’t use mage hand to move them, they’re too heavy. I can only manage ten pounds at most.”

Laios sighed and jumped down from the wagon. “I’ll go investigate and try to move them. You guys take cover and let me know if you see anything, okay?”

Everyone nodded except Senshi who climbed down from the wagon, as well. “I’ll help ye,” he said gruffly. “Moving the horses will go faster if we work together.”

Chilchuck jumped back into the wagon and took cover behind a barrel, drawing his shortbow and knocking an arrow, his keen brown eyes scanning the thick foliage on either side of the road. Marcille also drew close the wagon, crouching down by a wheel and clenching her staff in both hands and looking a little seasick. Falin, however, stepped out front holding her mace menacingly in front of her, the sharp metal edges at the top glinting dangerously in the dappled light through the trees.

Laios tried to approach the horses cautiously, but his armor clicked and rang out as he walked. Senshi was quieter, but much slower. As they approached the horses, Laios agreed that they were the same ones he had seen Gundren and the human man riding yesterday morning. Even the tack on the horses was the same. Examining the blanket and saddle, Laios also noticed that the saddlebags of both horses were open, the insides looking dark and empty.

“I’ll take one set of legs, you take the other,” Senshi said, approaching the back legs of the pony.

“Wait, Senshi. Does it look like their saddlebags have been looted?” Laios asked, pointing at the bag he was looking at on the bay mare.

Senshi barely had time to make an inquisitive hum before the sound of a twig snapping behind him sent him and Laios turning just in time to see a small green creature sneaking through the underbrush with a small rudimentary bow drawn on them.

“LAIOS, LOOK OUT!” Falin shouted, pointing her mace at the goblin who had just startled them both.

Before either of them could react, an arrow was fired at them from the opposite side of the road, arching straight at Laios’ back. A flash of incredible burning pain lanced through his back, the pain so incredible that his vision fuzzed and blurred for a moment. He put his hand to his shoulder and felt hot blood against his fingertips, the soft wood of a small arrow sticking out of his back.

Beside him, Laios heard Senshi grunt and turned his head to see his new friend pierced through with an arrow, as well. Senshi was reaching out to touch a small arrow fletched in black feathers that was protruding from his upper arm, dribbling bright red blood.

“Laios!” Falin shouted again, her voice cracking on his name in a way that made his already racing heart stutter in his chest. Then, Falin quickly shouted a word that made Laios ears ring, her hand tracing a strange pattern in the air, before a flame-like radiance shot down from the sky at the goblin they had first seen.

Just as the light flickered in the air, Falin’s magic building above the goblin, the creature dodged to the side, missing the blast of sacred energy by a hair’s breadth.

The little green man growled, his voice high and stringent, making him sound like a saw working through a green piece of wood. Popping up from his rolling jump, he ran at Laios, a short chipped scimitar appearing in his long fingered hand.

Laios watched the blade come at him as if in slow motion, the goblin’s mouth fixed in a vicious snarl, his thin dark hair flying out behind his bulbous head. At the last second he leaned back out of the way of the strike and drew his own sword, his hand sure on the grip through hours and hours of training.

Behind the first goblin, yet another one appeared, this one also wielding a rusty damaged scimitar. It dodged around Laios, who was still engaged with the first goblin he had seen, and went straight for Senshi. Senshi, who had just yanked the arrow from his arm, threw up a hand desperately to protect himself from the attack, but still suffered a grievous wound across his arm that sprayed blood across the dirt road.

With a grunt, Senshi raised his greataxe high above his head. The goblin, still grinning in glee at landing a hit on the dwarf, didn’t see the axe coming until it cleaved his skull cleanly in half.

“Great job, Senshi,” Laios gasped, raising his own greatsword up at an angle to swipe at the goblin he was facing off with.

His own sword, heavier, longer and carefully maintained, carved through the small body and brittle bones of his attacker like a hot knife through butter. The goblin collapsed in a bloody heap with barely a whimper.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Laios could faintly hear Chilchuck saying from over by the wagon.

An arrow flew from the wagon where Chilchuck was hiding, fired into the bushes where the first two arrows had been shot from.

Laios barely had a moment to process that Chilchuck had joined the fight before another arrow flew, this one decidedly not from Chilchuck, and struck him right in the neck. Laios hit the ground in a spray of dirt, blood welling from his neck. In a matter of seconds his body began to feel cold, his eyesight blurry, his heart sluggish in his chest. He could hear people calling his name, but it all sounded far away.

Time became smeary around Laios. He could hear people shouting, see movement in what little he could still see, but the sound of his own struggling heartbeat took up most of his awareness. He could feel the blood pump out of his own body with each squeeze of his heart, smell the salty copper of his own life spilling out onto the uncaring forest floor.

Then, familiar hands are yanking the arrows out of his body. He could feel the flesh tear and give away under the new violence, but no pain came. He felt cold, so cold. Those same hands pressed tight against his back and a rush of warmth and pain pulsed through him, like unseen hands were yanking his flesh back in place, knitting the holes closed with fury, his body put back together none too gently, but put back together none the less.

Laios gasped as he opened his eyes and they focused on the scene around him. Falin was kneeling over him, her hands still stained with his blood, two bloody arrows discarded on the ground nearby. Senshi was laying on his back beside him in the blood soaked dirt, an arrow sticking out of his chest.

Struggling, still feeling dizzy from blood loss, Laios climbed back to his feet, picking his greatsword up off the ground.

“Thanks,” he whispered to Falin as he stood up between her and the two goblins still hiding in the brush.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said around teary eyes.

“You’ve got to get them out of cover!” Chilchuck shouted as he shot another arrow into the underbrush that the arrows were coming from, though from the sound he didn’t hit anything.

Another arrow flew out of the bushes, this time aimed right at Falin, but pinged the chain mail under her robe and fell uselessly to the ground by her feet.

“Ouch,” she grumbled, rubbing the spot on her chest.

“Did that thing just hit you in the boob?!” Marcille shrieked from near the wagon.

“Uh?” Falin responded uncertainly.

Marcille shouted something in a language that Laios didn’t understand and gestured with her staff. Three darts of light flew from her staff to the bushes, igniting them with pale blue light followed by a sound of agony and a wet thump as something hits the ground. Shortly after, the sound of fast footsteps receding into the woods could be heard.

“Whoa,” Laios said, his eyes huge as he turned back to look at a still panting Marcille, her staff still held out in front of her.

“Did the last one just run away?” Falin asked faintly.

“Forget that! Heal Senshi!” Chilchuck shouted, already crawling over the seat of the wagon and hurrying over to where Senshi was still laid out on his back.

“Oh! Right, of course!” Falin exclaimed, falling back to her knees and pulling the most recent arrow from where it had buried itself in Senshi’s chest. Falin spoke some strange words and traced a symbol on Senshi’s skin. A faint warm yellow glow emanated from her hands where she pressed them to Senshi’s torso and the wounds steadily closed, the blood marching backward back into his body as the puncture wounds pulled back together.

Senshi grunted, his unfocused eyes finally seeming to see them, tracking Falin and Laios and Chilchuck as he ran up to meet them, Marcille trailing behind.

“Did we find victory?” Senshi asked with a harsh groan as he pushed himself to sit up, Laios’ hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“We’re alive and they’re mostly not, but I don’t know if you’d call that victory,” Chilchuck said wryly.

“That was terrifying,” Marcille gasped with a hand to her chest. “Is this really what you two do for a living?” Marcille asked with a concerned look at Falin who only shrugged.

“Usually with less dying, but yeah mostly,” Laios said with a shrug of his own.

“Oh, my god,” Marcille breathed. “OH MY GOD!” she shouted after a second.

“Shush! Not so loud!” Chilchuck hissed at her. “Just because these goblins are dead doesn’t mean there’s not more hiding in the woods. We need to get out of here before the one that got away comes back with his friends.”

“But,” Laios said, sheathing his sword and turning to look at the dead horses still blocking the road. “If Gundren was caught in the same ambush we just were, then the goblins could be holding him hostage. We need to help him, right?” he asked, turning to the others.

“I agree. If Gundren is in trouble, we must help him,” Senshi said with a firm nod.

“I don’t think so!” Marcille exclaimed. “You two almost died and that was only four goblins! Now you want to stomp into their lair and what? Demand to speak to a manager? I don’t think that’s going to go over very well!”

“But, Marcille. The magic you just used was amazing! With you and Falin helping us, we’ll be able to save Gundren. I’m sure of it,” Laios said with a determined nod.

“Well… About that,” Falin said awkwardly. “That last healing spell kind of wiped me out. If someone gets hurt again, I won’t be able to heal them.”

“… Oh,” said Laios, caught flat footed by that thought.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Chilchuck sighed. “And, I’m too old to go charging into danger unprepared. The two of you aren’t all the way up to snuff either. Why don’t we take this wagon the rest of the way to Phandalin and then come back to investigate? At least that way our two mages will be at full power and you two will be back to full health.”

Laios looked down at the ground, at the two goblins crumbled and bleeding into the dirt, at the two horses still on their sides in the middle of the road. At the blood still crusted into his sword’s blade and his chain mail, still matted into Senshi’s beard and on Falin’s hands and knees.

“Okay,” he said finally. “You’re right. Let’s to Phandalin and come back tomorrow.”

There were mumbles of agreement as Chilchuck, Marcille and Falin went back to the wagon and Laios and Senshi turned back to their original goal of dragging the horses off the road.

“Do you truly think the goblins took my uncle?” Senshi asked as they stood up from pulling the second horse off the road.

“I do,” Laios said. “Horses have a lot more value to goblins than humans or dwarves do. They use them as pack animals and sometimes eat them. If the goblins shot your uncle’s horse, then they wanted him in particular. And, if they wanted him for some reason, then there’s a good chance he’s still alive wherever they’re hiding him.”

Senshi gave Laios a long calculating look before nodding slowly. “Thank you, Laios,” he said gruffly, before turning and walking back to the wagon.

Laios scratched his head for a moment, not sure what he did to deserve thanks. Whatever the reason, at least Senshi seemed reassured.

[lestappenforever]

Sequel to "Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes)" Sneak Peek

I promised you all a wedding sequel to "Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes)", and I am thrilled to announce that it is very close to being finished. So, in true Mona fashion, please enjoy a little sneak peek of the sequel that is currently untitled:

---

When Max doesn’t return after ten minutes, Charles gets to his feet and goes looking for him. 

He finds Max standing by the open door leading out into the courtyard, phone in hand by his thigh, watching the heavy rain fall onto the stones and grass outside. 

Charles walks up behind him, wrapping his arms around Max’s waist from behind. Max lets out a sigh at the contact, leaning back against Charles. 

“He’s not coming, is he?” Charles asks softly. Max shakes his head.

Inviting Jos had been a gamble, they both knew as much. Not only had it taken Max months to decide whether or not he wanted to extend an invitation to his father, but when he had finally decided he wanted his father to be there, it had been a battle trying to get the man to RSVP. There had been so many excuses, none of which had been even remotely good, as to why Jos Verstappen couldn’t let them know whether he’d be able to come to the wedding or not. Eventually, they’d decided to stop waiting for an answer and reserved a seat for him anyway. The last time Max had spoken to him two weeks ago, it had sounded like Jos would be attending. And now, less than forty-eight hours before the wedding, he had changed his mind.

“I’m sorry, chéri,” Charles says, tightening his hold around Max. 

“It’s fine,” Max shrugs, leaning his head to the side. It’s a lie, Charles knows, because in that exact moment, Max’s heart no doubt feels as heavy as the rain outside. “I’m an idiot for thinking he was actually going to show up.”

“He’s your father, Max. Thinking he was going to show up to your wedding is the very least you should expect from him,” Charles immediately argues. 

Max makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. Then, he turns his head to look at Charles over his shoulder. “At least the people who truly matter will be there.”

Charles offers him a small, slightly sad smile. “True.”

Max presses a kiss to his lips and gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s soft music coming from the lounge behind them, accompanied by the soft murmurs and laughter of their family and friends. Deciding that seeing his fiancé sad so close to their wedding day simply isn’t acceptable, Charles releases his hold on Max and grabs his hand instead.

“Come on,” Charles says, as he steps past the Dutchman and through the door. 

Max gives him a puzzled look. “It’s raining.”

“I’m aware.”

“So where are we going?” 

Charles tugs at Max’s hand again until the other man steps outside with him. They’re still shielded under the terrace above for the time being. Charles turns to face Max properly.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, and Max has the audacity to pretend like he has to think about it. 

Charles glares at him. Max laughs, and it’s a truly beautiful sound.

“Of course I do,” he eventually says, and that’s all Charles needs to drag Max from under the safety of the terrace and out into the pouring rain. 

They step over the carefully trimmed low hedges and onto one of the grass patches, where Charles pulls Max close and places a hand on his waist, his other holding Max’s tightly between them. Max is looking at him as if Charles has lost his mind, but he’s smiling, which is exactly what Charles is trying to achieve. Max places his free hand on Charles’ shoulder, and then the Monégasque starts moving them slowly in time with the soft music that’s only barely audible from inside. 

The rain is turning Max’s blond hair dark, and there are raindrops dripping from both their chins as they move together in a slow, slightly uncoordinated waltz in the rain. It’s not enough to completely ease the pain of Max’s father refusing to come to his wedding, but it’s enough to make it feel a little less crushing. 

Above them, on the terrace, Daniel has snuck out with his phone and is taking a ridiculous amount of pictures and videos of Max and Charles dancing in the rain, two days before their wedding