#targeted to the beautiful lady in my dms
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
perennialhedera · 11 days ago
Text
oh to be down on my knees looking up at her with my hands together and worshipping my goddess
men/minors dni!!!
22 notes · View notes
xmoriartea · 2 years ago
Text
Time for a Barovian Ball!
Tumblr media
art by sacrednanners @ TH
So to celebrate Burgomaster Ismark and the continued triumph of the Four Heroes of Vallaki, Lord Vasili von Holtz was throwing a ball! And as the tax collector of Lord Strahd - none of us fucking trusted him. Sure, we got all dressed up and ready for the black carriages that came to collect us and dozens of other citizens of Vallaki but we were ready to B R A W L and S T E A L—
And then... the Brides arrived.
DM @the-kiburi​ introduced these four fucking beautiful vampires entering the ball on behalf of Ravenloft and I became weak. And so did my very bi very poly death priestess who was in the process of denying she might have a feeling for Mina. So even while we were still planning to possibly do some crimes here... certain plans, like detecting OTHER undead, went... out the window. Because I saw 4 very lovely undead and decided I was going to get any information out of them I could. 
Tumblr media
Sure other possibly relevant characters were being introduced from around Barovia 
Tumblr media
BUT I WAS FOCUSED
Tumblr media
So the party kind of broke up in various ways for the evening. I had strongly set my eyes on the Brides, Tanner was focused on trying to find the thing we came to steal, 
Tumblr media
Arabelle was having her first ever date with +1 Rowan (look her lifes been shit, we wanted her to have a good night if she could), and Mina was torn between stress drinking and keeping an eye on everyone else
Tumblr media
(I repeat: God bless Faraga aka old lady 2)
But as the night progressed, things really went downhill for me as a person who cares only a normal amount about 4 npc vampires
Tumblr media
So while Tanner was figuring out about the small town artificer feud and started chatting up the councilwoman granddaughter of old lady 1 (and somehow inviting her into his fucking heist attempt??), I brought the ball aspect of the evening into play by approaching the little beskulled golden nightmare that is Volenta Popofsky
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And this soon became a multi-night event...
Tumblr media
We made some great jokes
Tumblr media
and some fucking horrendous ones 
Tumblr media
but I rescued the most emo of vampire poets from an old woman trying to seduce him and my night got infinitely better.
Tumblr media
Meanwhile, Tanner and Councilwoman Kalina were casually sneaking their way through von Holtz’s estate looking for somewhere a rich fuck would likely be keeping a dragon skull... and things took a turn.
Tumblr media
(Did I forget to mention he made TWO deals in the Amber Temple? Whoopsie)
Tumblr media
Is it really D&D if you haven’t casually done mental war crimes to your DM?
But Tanner managed to gEt RiD oF the guard and lead Kalina into a weird little magic hallway and no way anything bad happens there. Which means it’s a great time to flash back to Alkali and her vampire hunting seduction
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The whiplash between the two scenes was insane. When Alkali wasn’t wining and dining she was wining with Mina and talking about their Arabelle having a good night and it was a good time. Neither of them had any idea Tanner was doing goddamn crimes. So a good time.
Alkali was on constant look out for Strahd still because, you know, Ireena was here. And apparently having a great time dancing with von Holtz while her brother danced with my 4th and final target
Tumblr media
But we couldn’t do this all in 2 nights of gameplay and the turns kept coming
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Because hear me out. The Brides were the first vampires we met outside of Strahd who were not... monsters. They were monstrous, yes, but they were people. Charming, pleasant, a little bit too in love with a toxic husband, people. And if Alkali could be a homewrecker and get them to leave the toxic husband to create a better life for themselves without him and with her — that seems like a good idea, yeah?
Food for thought at least.
Tanner and Kalina got out of the weird nightmare puzzle room after locating the skull (but unable to get it cause its HUGE) and stealing a book from the library there. He was able to rejoin Alkali and Mina in their wine corner and a realization was had:
Tumblr media
So off to find Arabelle we went.
Tumblr media
Unfortunately, while Alkali and Mina were having that panic again. Tanner went off to go talk with edgelord von Holtz... and just... asked... for... the skull... To which von Holtz had had a counter offer:
Tumblr media
Tanner said no. Because if he didn’t. Alkali would be gutting some people. Though he made a wonderful point that did mostly soothe the angry fish
Tumblr media
And I presented my own counter offer to von Holtz by offering up my unique services as a death keeper
Tumblr media
No luck, but other successes were soon had
Tumblr media
Anastrasya was delightful and a little be vicious in a fun way and I’m here for it and ignore the fact I couldn’t properly count to four - it was late I swear
Tumblr media
And then some cleaning up was done when Tanner realized we were spending the night here
Tumblr media
He sent it to our merfolk prince friend Merrick and surely no way that goes weird, right?
But as everyone was settling in for the night...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
then they both stood there like “......... good talk love you bye” but that’s familial love bby and Alkali will love and support Arabelle regardless and also promise to snuff out a fire genasi if he did anything that upset her. Love.
L o v e... ?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
See. Alkali has been carrying this compass on her from one of her ship wrecks for ages. She got it off the first sailor she saw drown. Oddly... he was a sea elf. But he was on an Istishian ship, one that had stolen from Umberlee. And he drowned. And while a little bit wine drunk and a little bit sad... Mina told Alkali that the only reason she’d went on the mission for her temple to steal back the stolen relic.. was because her long lost brother had last been seen on that ship. Mina Lumenvroth... 
Alkali’s compass has the initials M. L. on it ... is this a guilt she feels perhaps?
But as far as spending the night went, it could of been worse.
Von Holtz wanted to chat with us come morning so all four of us + Rowan assembled in a side room off the main hall to meet with him and he, very obviously, doubled down on trying to convince Arabelle AND Rowan to spend time at the manor with him as collateral for lending us the skull.
We said no, again.
And then we REALLY said no when Alkali caught him in the act of charming Rowan and Arabelle to try and side with him. Arabelle managed to shake it off. Alkali charmed Rowan herself to break von Holtz’s charm - and then charmed von Holtz, threatening him against doing so again. It didn’t take, but he seemed greatly entertained by the attempt and allowed them to leave as the roads had been cleared.
Alkali OF COURSE had to make one last goodbye to the brides and Anastrasya may have gotten a little bold, but Alkali was into it
Tumblr media
Fun times, fun times. 
Tanner found out the book he stole was a tome that increases INT so the next days following the ball were... quiet? Tanner spent some absurd number of hours reading a book and Alkali scrounged up every bit of oil and incense she could to hallow the ground Ireena and Ismark were moving into in Vallaki. A totally normal thing to be doing and she absolutely flipped off the bats that flew overhead as she spent 24 hours straight ritually cleansing the property so Ireena could feel safe somewhere other than the church.
Strahd was not getting another bride.
And if she had her way would be getting divorced soon enough too.
9 notes · View notes
tigerkirby215 · 3 years ago
Text
5e Irelia, the Blade Dancer build (League of Legends)
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Jessica “OwleyCat” Oyhenart. Made for Riot Games.)
FINE I’LL MAKE IRELIA GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!
Irelia is my least favorite champion in League. She’s not my most banned (Shaco) nor is she the champion I complain the most about, but she is absolutely the champion that I look at and constantly think “this character actively ruins the game for me.” I’ll admit that Irelia’s role in the Sentinels of Light story was pretty interesting but you’re still not going to make me like Irelia, Riot!
I’m not going to bore everyone with a long-winded rant about my hatred for this character and how what I thought was going to be a nerf actually made her S tier (joy to the fucking world I now actually have to ban her) but I will say this: there are no champions who I won’t make a genuine build for if I take the time to make a proper blog post about them... Except Talon, but that’s because Talon has one of the most boring kits in the entirety of League of Legends.
GOALS
Step. Two. Whirl. Lift! - What? Do you think that a champion with literally unlimited dashes is unfair?
Perfection of form - We’ll also need to weave our blades around us like a dress, slicing at foes and protecting yourself in one fluent motion.
Remember the Placidium! - When in doubt just use more blades.
RACE
Irelia’s a human... but making humans all the time is boring. Irelia has an innate magic and I’d consider being in-tune with Ionia’s spirit a connection to the Fey. So I decided to make her an elf for the sake of this build, more particularly an Aereni High Elf from Eberron for the innate Expertise.
A regular High Elf works too if your DM doesn’t allow Eberron races; the only thing that really changes with the Aereni High Elf is that you get Expertise in a skill. Valenar elves are also cool for the Double Scimitar.
You can also make Irelia a human but there aren’t many feats I want for her except maybe Mobile, but I felt like being an elf was more fun to grab other feats.
As an elf you have +2 to your Dexterity score, Keen Senses for proficiency in the Perception skill (gotta watch those wards!), and the Fey Ancestry of Ionia grants you advantage against charms and immunity to being put to sleep magically. Instead of sleeping you can spend time in a Trance meditating to regain strength. You only need 4 hours in a trance to rest, and are fully aware of your surroundings while doing so.
As an Aereni Elf you get Expertise in one skill of your choice: we’ll be taking Performance because... well you are a dancer. As a High Elf you learn one Cantrip from the Wizard list, and we’ll actually be taking Prestidigitation to aid in our performances. Oh and you’d normally be increasing your Intelligence by 1 but we’ll instead be increasing your Wisdom because... well it fits Irelia more. (No big loss if you increase Intelligence instead though.) And you can learn one language of your choice: pick whatever you think would inspire fear into the heart of Noxians!
ABILITY SCORES
15; CHARISMA - A dancer is meant to be beautiful first and foremost.
14; DEXTERITY - Of course dancing takes nimbleness. "When no one's around, I dance for myself."
13; WISDOM - This is where the +1 from our race is going! Keep in-tune with the natural world and Ionia’s spirit.
12; CONSTITUTION - You are still a top laner with just... way too much sustain. (Feel free to swap this with Wisdom for more HP but less roleplay.)
10; INTELLIGENCE - Nature is an intelligence skill and military tactics are good to learn, but we simply need everything else more.
8; STRENGTH - You swing your blades with the rhythm of the natural order. Which is to say Riot doesn’t like buff ladies.
BACKGROUND
A dancer is a type of Entertainer. You get proficiency in Acrobatics but since you already have expertise in Performance feel free to grab Nature to become more in-tune with the world around you. You also get proficiency with a Disguise Kit and an instrument of your choice: pick whatever you think suits you and make your own Ionian war hero!
You feature By Popular Demand makes you known as both a dancer and a war leader! You can perform in exchange for a place to rest for you and your allies, and people will remember your dance and treat you with respect.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)
THE BUILD
LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1
What? Did you expect this to just be 20 levels of Swords Bard? Honestly Rogue serves as a better recreation of Irelia’s abilities, at least at early levels. That and I want proficiency in 4 skills, so take Insight, Persuasion, Intimidation, and Slight of Hand proficiency to lead and dance with grace. You also get Expertise in two of those skills: Acrobatics is a must but since we’ve already got proficiency in Performance you may as well grab Persuasion for good relations with Ionia’s people.
You also get Thieves’ Cant to speak in the way only other performers can understand, “performers” in this case being other Rogues. But of course the main skill you get is Sneak Attack, giving you an extra d6 of damage if you have advantage on your attack or an ally is near the enemy you’re attacking.
LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2
I always love when I get to recreate League of Legends dashes by just... letting you use the Dash action a lot. Second level Rogues can make Cunning Actions to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. Keep it simple stupid and weave around your foes on the battlefield.
LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3
Third level Rogues get to choose their Roguish Archetype, and to dance around the battlefield while slicing down foes the Swashbuckler is a great choice to keep your rhythm in check. Your Fancy Footwork will allow you to attack a foe before slipping away without provoking Opportunity Attacks while your Rakish Audacity will allow you to add your Charisma to your Initiative to always be the first on the front line.
Rakish Audacity also lets you Sneak Attack a foe who is alone on the battlefield as long as you don’t have disadvantage and they don’t have an ally within 5 feet, letting you hit them for an extra 2d6 with your blades.
Now may as well be a time to ask: Dual Wielding or single weapon? Since you’re not going to be getting a shield I’d say carrying two blades is worth it for the potential to deal more damage when needed. You can also use your Dual Wielding attack to activate Fancy Footwork more often to evade more enemies. Just be mindful of when Dashing or Dodging would be more useful.
LEVEL 4 - ROGUE 4
4th level Rogues get an Ability Score Improvement and Dexterity controls most of what we do right now, so a +2 to DEX would be beneficial.
LEVEL 5 - ROGUE 5
Normally I wouldn’t go out of my way to grab level 5 in Rogue just for the sake of Uncanny Dodge, but here’s the thing: it’s literally Irelia’s Defiant Dance! Take less damage from an attack you saw coming before striking back with your 3d6 Sneak Attack.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Michelle Hoefener. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 6 - BARD 1
Now it’s time for those 20 15 levels in Swords Bard! Multiclassing into Bard gives you proficiency with one musical instrument (pick your fancy) and one skill of your choice: I opted for Arcana because... well you’re fighting with magical floating blades. (Or at least you will be in due time.)
As a Bard you can inspire your allies as a Bonus Action thanks to Bardic Inspiration, letting them add a d6 to their Attack Rolls, Ability Checks, or Saving Throws. You have a maximum number of Inspiration die equal to your Charisma modifier, which come back after a Long Rest... for now.
But of course as a Bard you get Spellcasting! You learn two cantrips from the Bard list such as Message to communicate on the frontline, and Vicious Mockery which is sure what I fucking feel playing against an Irelia one-trick smurf account. You can also learn four leveled spells like Faerie Fire to mark your foes, Command to strike fear in the hearts of foes, Heroism to strike vigor in the hearts of allies, and Healing Word; because healing is always good to have.
LEVEL 7 - BARD 2
Second level Bards have dabbled in a little bit of everything: healing, damage, healing, mobility, healing, crowd control, oh and I think Irelia does need some more healing. Regardless Jack of All Trades will let you add half your proficiency bonus to any skill checks you aren’t already proficient in. (This also includes Initiative which is important to mention!)
If you use Tasha’s rules you can also grab Magical Inspiration to make your allies’ spells either heal more or do more damage thanks to your Inspiration. Oh and speaking of spells you can also grab Longstrider for more speed on the battlefield.
Oh and you get Song of Rest, the ability I always mock for scaling poorly. But it will help your allies recover after a hard battle!
LEVEL 8 - BARD 3
Irelia has many magical blades because she went to the College of Swords. Along with Bonus Proficiencies with Medium Armor and Scimitars (neither of which Rogues have for some reason) you can pick up a Fighting Style: I personally opted for Two-Weapon Fighting to get more attacks in but Dueling is also a perfectly fine.
Of course the main appeal of being a Blade Dancer is your Blade Flourish: When you attack on your turn you move 10 feet faster until the end of the turn, and if you hit you can use a Bardic Inspiration on a Blade Flourish:
Defensive Flourish lets you roll your Bardic Inspiration to add to your damage and AC.
Slashing Flourish lets you roll your Bardic Inspiration to add to your damage, and do that extra damage to any other creature of your choice (that you can see) within 5 feet of you.
Mobile Flourish lets you roll your Bardic Inspiration to add to (guess what) the damage. You can also push the target up to 5 feet away from you, plus a number of feet equal to the number you roll on that die. Immediately afterwards you can use your reaction to move up to your walking speed to an unoccupied space within 5 feet of the target. It’s not quite a Dash, but it’s certainly a Bladesurge!
You can only use one Blade Flourish per turn though. Additionally you get Expertise in two skills like Insight and Nature, to know the spirit of both people and the world around you. And finally you can learn a second level spell like Hold Person for a stun before you do your full combo.
LEVEL 9 - BARD 4
4th level Bards can grab something a little better than Flash; the Fey Teleportation feat! Along with a +1 to your Charisma you learn Sylvan, but most importantly you can cast Misty Step once per Short or Long Rest to get out of a dangerous situation! It unfortunately doesn’t add the spell to your spell list (like Fey Touched from Tasha’s Cauldron) but being able to regain your mobility spell after a Short Rest is extremely useful!
Speaking of spells you learn one more Bard spell, and one more cantrip! For your cantrip take Mage Hand to grab blades from afar, and for your leveled spell take Calm Emotions. It perhaps isn’t the most practical and there are certainly better options, but it’s fitting.
Tumblr media
(Artwork made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 10 - BARD 5
5th level Bards get a Font of Inspiration, letting their Bardic Inspiration charges come back after a Short Rest. That’s nice because your Bardic Inspiration (and Blade Flourish die) also increases to a d8.
You can also grab a third level spell like Hypnotic Pattern, to stun an entire army with your blades.
LEVEL 11 - BARD 6
6th level Bards can finally turn their Vampiric Scepter into Blade of the Ruined King, giving them some Attack Speed for an Extra Attack. You can still only use one Blade Flourish per turn, but at least now you can attack twice with your action or up to three times if you make a Two-Weapon Fighting attack.
You can also grab another spell but there’s not much I want from third level, so instead I’ll talk about Countercharm, which is dumb and bad. You spend an action to give yourself and nearby allies advantage against Charms and Fears. Or you could fight through the fear and slay your foes... or cast Heroism or Calm Emotions.
LEVEL 12 - BARD 7
7th level Bards can learn 4th level spells like Dimension Door to teleport into lane or back to base, and Freedom of Movement for some Tenacity.
LEVEL 13 - BARD 8
8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement. We’ve been investing more in Bard so more Charisma would be nice for more Blade Flourishes and better spellcasting.
You can also learn another spell but again: don’t really want anything, so we’re going to wait for...
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Jana Schirmer. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 14 - BARD 9
9th level Bards get to pretend that Song of Rest is a useful ability that scales well, especially when multiclassing. I mean, at least it’s a d8 now!
You also get 5th level spells like Animate Objects. Hey: it only took us 14 levels to get your blades! You can also grab Rary's Telepathic Bond (ty Tasha’s) to keep to team chat with everyone.
LEVEL 15 - BARD 10
10th level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: take Arcana to further your connection to Ionia, and Slight of Hand for the specific hand movements to manipulate your blades. You also see your Bardic Inspiration increase to a d10, which also means your Blade Flourishes deal a d10 of damage!
Additionally you get Magical Secrets from any class so you can use your unique brand of blade magic. And by far the most blade-like spell you can grab (at this level) is Steel Wind Strike, to dash through multiple foes for a big burst of damage!
Additionally we will be grabbing Blade of the Ruined King (finally) with Spirit Shroud; yes it’s a bit of a low-level spell but it serves as a great damage boost to your melee attacks and also keeps enemies close for you to fight them. And finally you get one more cantrip: Mending will help you keep your outfit in check.
Also if you want you can replace Message with Prestidigitation now that you have Rary’s Telepathic Bond.
LEVEL 16 - BARD 11
11th level Bards get 6th level spells: you can lean into your lessons as a dancer and take Otto's Irresistible Dance to force your foes to keep up with the rhythm or die trying. "Okay, I'm warmed up."
LEVEL 17 - BARD 12
12th level Bards don’t get extra spells, but they do get another Ability Score Improvement: more Charisma means more Bardic Inspiration die (for more Blade Flourishes), better spells, and more initiative so capping that out would give you more bang for your buck overall.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Art of Maki. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 18 - BARD 13
Hey remember when I said Song of Rest is a useful ability? Well it’s a d10 now!
At least you can learn Forcecage to take Noxians as prisoners of war to be properly judged... As long as they don’t have a filth bucket in their cell.
LEVEL 19 - BARD 14
14th level Swords Bards as masters of their blades, and can perform a Master’s Flourish using a d6 instead of one of their Bardic Inspiration.
You also get two more Magical Secrets, and hey we can finally grab your ult! Take Blade Barrier to cut the armies off with your Vanguard’s Edge. Alternatively if you need to go back to base take Word of Recall to recall back to your fountain. Which is to say: I had no other good spells to give you.
LEVEL 20 - BARD 15
15th level Bards see their Bardic Inspiration die (and their Blade Flourish die) increase to its maximum size of a d12! And you can cap off the build with an 8th level spell, but in all honesty there isn’t many spells I want from 8th level. So use that slot to upcast and take Hold Monster instead to finally be able to stun Wukong.
FINAL BUILD
PROS
Grace bends where strength breaks - You have a variety of ways to deal consistent damage between competency with swords, Blade Flourishes, and powerful spells.
I move to unsung melodies and unbeaten rhythms - +12 to initiative and the ability to move between enemies you attack freely means you’re guaranteed to be on the battlefield fast and able to put yourself in a position to fight with your allies.
Never stop learning; there's always a form you don't know - It was not my intention but turns out Bards and Rogues get a lot of skill proficiencies. +17 in Performance and Persuasion, +16 in Acrobatics and Slight of Hand, +14 in Insight, and +12 in Arcana and Nature. Not to mention Jack of All Trades helping you with all the skills you don’t have proficiency in.
CONS
Each form has a name known only to the wind - So your Dexterity isn’t maxed out, which means you’re a little lacking in both AC and hit chance. Honestly level 5 of Rogue isn’t that good, even if Uncanny Dodge works well as Defiant Dance. 4 / 16 would’ve been better for another ASI.
Stay ready, and there is no need to get ready - Most of your fun spells are accessed at a very high level, with your lower leveled spells dedicated more to utility. You’re a sword fighter first and foremost but seeing as your Charisma is maxed it would be good to use your high Charisma.
We are sharpest where we break! - Low DEX and no Shield (no Shield spell and two-weapon Fighting) means that your AC isn’t the most impressive. That along with 120 health means that a few bad hits can put you in the danger zone. Sure Uncanny Dodge gives you a reliable way to soak up damage but a good surprise hit will quickly put an end to you.
But you don’t need to worry about weaknesses when you’re probably smurfing anyways. Dash, dance, and decapitate foes in a graceful death of a thousand cuts. Keep your style and inspire the commonfolk to take up arms to protect their homeland. Just don’t get too out of line, or Riot might nerf your movement speed by 5.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)
28 notes · View notes
sophielovesbarnes · 5 years ago
Text
All or nothing, chapter two.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader
Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy and cursing.
Author note: Alright, here we are, hot out of the oven! Sorry if it took long, I got stuck on a scene but I finally broke the writer’s block and was able to finish this chapter, we will get to see a bit more of SPN on this chapter.
I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what do you think, dm me if you want to be tagged and remember requests are open.
Chapter one
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Chapter two
“Come on ladies! They are not called suicide running drills for nothing!” Your coach screams, you are beyond exhausted, your legs feel like they will give in, in any second now, you are covered in sweat from head to toe and your lungs feel like they are on fire. With the National competition getting closer every day your coach gets more demanding and the training sessions become more intense.
“So.” You manage to get out. “I don’t know if calling him is too straight forward.”
“Well.” Ingrid answers with her chest heaving. “It’s not like you have cared about that before.”
“Winchester! Fritz! If you are able to speak then you are not doing it right!” 
Ingrid smiles at you and then you both get back to running, an hour; that feels like an eternity later, you are under the shower letting the water wash away your exhaustion, you still have two classes left and you need to mentally prepare yourself for them. 
When you are changing into a pink dress Ingrid returns to the topic.
“So what are you going to do?” She asks while brushing her hair. “Are you gonna call the hot FBI agent?”
“I think I will.” You tie your hair up and close your locker. “There’s something really special about him, I just can’t put my finger in what.” 
“Aww little Y/N has a crush.”
“Shut it Ingrid, at least I’m doing something about mine.” You say teasingly.
“Hey I’m your base, you don’t wanna bother me.” You both look at each other with serious looks in your face and then burst into laughter. “No but seriously, tell me how it goes.” 
“Will do, bye babes.” You kiss her cheek and then leave the locker room. 
During class you are barely able to pay attention, when your psychodynamic teacher is talking about the five stages of psychosexual development and the fixations in the oral stage your mind is traveling far away, focused on soft brunet locks and shy smiles.
After school you go back to your apartment, you order chinese for dinner and when the food comes and you are so distracted you are almost sure you gave the delivery guy a 50 dollar bill and told him to keep the change, you eat absentmindedly and then head to your bathroom toying with your phone, after taking a bath you are on your bed, dressed with clean pajamas and your hair wrapped up with a towel, then you finally gather enough courage to make the call. 
The phone rings three times before he answers.
“Hello?” Your heart flutters at the sound of his voice. 
“Doctor Reid?”
“Who is this?” He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice.
“It’s Y/N Winchester.” You answer calmly .”You gave me your card at the FBI lecture at Louisville.” 
“Right, how- how may I help you?” He replies.
“I have a lot of questions, and you told me to call if I had them.” You take a deep breath and then say with a wide smile on your face. “But I thought it would be unfair to just ask without giving something in return, so what do you say about me buying you coffee tomorrow? If you’re still in town.” 
Silence.
You mentally slap yourself for being too straightforward, what made you think that he wants to go out with you? He most likely has a girlfriend and here you are throwing yourself to him? God, you are so stupid.
“I-I yeah, that would be…” You listen to him taking a deep breath and then he continues. “That would be nice.”
“Great! We should go to Quills, they make this mean peach- lavender lattes.”
“Sounds good.”
“Does four o’clock work for you?”
“Yeah, that’s okay.” 
“Hey pretty boy, who are you talking to?” Says a voice on the back, then the call ends.
You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, you have a date; well, meeting with doctor Reid, and you can barely hold your emotion. What are you gonna wear? What are you gonna say? Maybe this was a rash idea. 
The ring of your phone snaps your mind out of it, when you pick up you see your brother’s face and on the back you hear the sound of vomiting.
“I’m guessing Jo hasn’t passed the throwing up all the time fase.”
“At this point I am pretty sure she kind of hates me.” Says your Adam.
“I don’t kind of hate you Adam, I hate you, hate you.” You hear Jo say, then the sound of vomiting returns.
Jo’s pregnancy had caught everyone off guard, she and Adam were always fighting or calling each other names, but then at the New Year’s Eve party Ellen threw on the Roadhouse they both had too much to drink and the next thing you knew was that you were going to have another nephew or niece in nine months, there was a lot of crying and at some point Ellen threatened to cut your brother’s balls off, now she was just happy with the idea of having a grandchild. 
After the initial shock you were happy as well, this wasn’t your first nephew/niece though, Sam and Jessica had two beautiful daughters you adored, Dean had Ben; who was only a couple years younger than you, which was weird; and with Castiel, Dean had applied to be a foster parent, they now had a little boy; Leo, and were hoping to get another child.
You had such a beautiful family and were so grateful for it. 
“How are you baby sis?” Adam asks, ignoring Jo’s comment.
“I’m good, very tired, our coach is killing us, and I have a duckton of homework, but in general things are going great, what about you, how are things going on Kansas?”
“Things are good, the workshop is getting a lot of cars, Sam, Jess and the girls visit us every now and then, and Dean and Cas are all about Leo.”
“That’s gonna be you in a couple months you know? Have you thought of any names?”
“Jo likes William or Genevieve, I like Magnolia or Jebediah, Jo doesn’t like them so we have reached an impasse.” You see Jo exiting the bathroom and standing next to your brother.
“Those are old people’s names, tell him Y/N.” Jo says. “Tell him they are horrible names and we are not naming my child like an old person.”
“Our child” He corrects, “And they are good names Joanna.”
“I hate to not be on your side bro, but Jo is right, they are horrible.” You say.
“Thank you Y/N at least one Winchester is using her brain.” Adam rolls his eyes and you laugh.
“They are good names!” Adam insists.
“No they are not.”  You and Jo say at the same time, she was your best friend and somehow you were always in synchrony. 
“Now if you can’t reach an agreement Y/N is always a good option, it has character, it’s pretty, and let's be honest, the world could use another Y/N Winchester.”
“We don’t need another traitor.” Adam answers with false hurt. 
“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen Adam, you know what? Your baby wants an Oreo McFlurry.” 
“Five minutes ago you were throwing up and now you want a McFlurry?” 
“Yes, so better get on the road because they are going to close, don't do this for me Adam, do it for your baby.”
“So now it’s my baby?” They both start bickering and you swear they already act like a married couple, eventually Jo wins the discussion, because being honest there is no better argument than “I am carrying your baby” so Adam says his goodbyes and leaves grudgingly.  You and Jo stay talking for hours, it’s almost 3 am when you hang up, and you fall asleep right after.
When you wake up you feel well rested and you feel like you slept for so long, the sun comes bright through the window and your whole body feels relaxed, which is weird because you went to sleep really late last night, which gets you thinking that you never heard your alarm.
Wait.
You take your phone and press the side button, but the screen doesn’t turn on. 
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You didn’t charge your phone, so the battery is dead which means that you are probably very late, you look up at the watch that’s on the wall, which indicates that it is already 12:15 in the morning, you are definitely very late. 
You jump out of the bed and run to the bathroom, no time for showering, you brush your teeth and get dressed with a pair of jeans, plain white t-shirt and sneakers, you tie your hair on a high ponytail, take your bag and run to the kitchen, you grab a banana and a bottle of water and run out of your house. 
You race on the road and make it to school on record time, at this time of the day it is barely impossible to find a parking space that is empty, when you manage to park it’s almost one, you mentally curse, get out of the car and run to the classroom, this promises to be a hell of a day. 
*****
Spencer has never liked this kind of conferences, they bring him back to his college years, which are not something he likes to think about, he didn’t have the standar university experience, most of the time he was made fun of, being the target of stupid pranks or being just ignored by his classmates, so yeah, college wasn’t something he remembered fondly.
He was on edge until yesterday, when he saw you on the lecture; he had already seen you on the football field being thrown into the air and then landing perfectly with a magazine worthy smile, of course he thought you were pretty, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever landed eyes on, but you were also most likely the type of girl that only cared about vain things and would have never noticed him if you had been one of his classmates; he was proved wrong during the lecture.
You weren’t only pretty, you were also smart, probably the smartest girl in that classroom, you were informed and you clearly cared about the topic, and when the lecture ended you went to him, when all the girls went with Morgan or Rossi, you decided to go with him; he was in such a rush he even had the bravery to give you his card.
And then the impossible happened, you called him, and not only that, you asked him out and he hasn’t felt this nervous in ages.
“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice brings him back to the room, he and Rossi are looking at him with worry. “Everything alright pretty boy? You have been acting weirder than usual since yesterday.” 
“I am fine.” He answers almost automatically.
“Are you sure?” Rossi asks with an eyebrow raised. “We are worried about you kid.”
“Yeah.” He says. “Colleges just bring me to the edge.”
“Well, don’t worry about it pretty boy, we are just going to be here three more days and we are back to Quantico.”
“I know.” 
*****
The whole day you feel like you are running, you are late for class which gets you a reprimand from your teacher, which gets you late to your next class, which ends up getting you late to cheerleading practice. Your coach is so mad she has you running suicides and practicing toe touches until your legs feel like jello. 
“Point your toes Winchester! And smile, you have to sell it!”  She screams at you, everytime you jump you feel your muscles pull and your empty stomach hurls, you are almost sure that if you keep jumping you might throw up. 
When your coach finally lets you go it’s already 4:20, you mentally do the math, if you go to the locker rooms and shower you will be in the coffee shop at almost five o’clock, and agent Reid is probably already waiting for you, so you just grab your bag and run to your car mentally cursing yourself for not charging your phone. 
****
Spencer manages to escape Morgan and Rossi, avoiding their questions and he makes it to the coffee shop you indicated by 3:45, minutes go by tortuously, he sees people coming in and out from the coffee with cups on their hands, he sees people laughing and students dragging their feet, the exhaustion of exams and projects reflecting clearly on them, he gets a lot of looks and he starts to grow desperate, he calls you over and over but the calls go straight to voicemail.
By 4:30 he decides you stood him up, this was most likely a prank, how did he not notice? He was a grown ass man, an FBI agent, he was a profiler and still he fell for it. He feels terrible, how could he believe such a beautiful woman would ask him out and actually show up? He takes his bag and gets up from the chair, when he is leaving he sees a car parking and a y/h/c haired girl wearing a Cardinals hoodie and grey yoga pants getting down and running to the coffee shop. 
It was you, you didn’t stand him up, you were actually there, he can barely hold his emotion. 
“Doctor Reid.” You say, your forehead is covered in sweat and your chest is going up and down rapidly. “I am so, so, so, sorry, did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, my phone died, and my alarm never went off, and I’ve been late everywhere, and my practice lasted too long, and i didn’t have your card so I couldn’t call you from another phone, and I came here right out of my training, so I must smell like a monster and I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t wait for long.” He lies, and you smile at him, and he can swear it is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. “Should we order?” 
“Yeah, yeah.” You lead the way and stop at the bar. “Hey Lindsey.”
The redhead barista smiles at you and then you look at him and he notices how your y/e/c sparkle with the white lights of the coffee shop. 
“What do you want?” You ask.
“You said something about peach lattes?”
“Peach-lavender lattes, it sounds weird but they are great.” You reply, and by this point he’s sure he would believe if you said the moon was made of tofu. 
“I’ll have one.”
“Great, two large peach-lavender lattes and a bagel please, can I also borrow your charger?” Lindsay marks your order on the cash register and tells you the total, when Spencer takes out his wallet you stop him. “No, I said I was buying.”
“No, I insist.” 
“Doctor Reid, put your wallet down, I was terribly late and I said I was buying, you can pay the next time.” The fact that you imply that there might be a next time makes his heart flutter. 
“Alright.” He agrees, when you get your orders you sit on the table he was waiting on and there’s a moment of awkward silence he is not sure how to break. “So, so you said you had questions?”
“Yes, I do.” You take a sip from your coffee and then look at him, he is expecting questions about the FBI, but that’s not where you go. “You have three PhDs, three BAs and you are only thirty-four, how is that even possible? Are you like a genius?”
“I, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” You stare at him with your eyes wide open and a smile on your lips. “...yes, I’m a genius.”
“That’s… wow.” The conversation flows after that, he talks about some of the most interesting cases he has had, you intervene every now and then making questions or comments that always seem to go to the correct point, and he feels like he can speak freely with you.
“Well, the vast majority of unsubs with a similar MO aren’t driven by the killing, they are merely fascinated by the body parts, it’s like they psychologically exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion, it’s basically like the blueprint to create the perfect serial killer… I’m rambling aren’t I?”
“It’s okay, it’s fascinating, please go on.” You are one of the only persons he has ever met that reacts that way, most of the time he gets interrupted, he is about to start again when your phone rings, you take a look at the screen and then say. “Sorry I have to take this, it will be just a sec.”
He smiles and nods and you slide to answer. 
“What is the point of having an expensive phone if you never answer? Do you know how worried I was?”
“Hi Dean.” You reply, internally laughing at the overprotectiveness of your brother. 
“Don’t “hi Dean” me, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your texts?”
“I’m in a coffee shop, and my phone died last night and I couldn’t charge it until now.” 
“Who are you with?”
“I’m with a… friend.”
“Friend? Are you out with a boy? Who is he? Let me talk to him.”
“Stop being so jealous Dean.” 
“So you are with a boy.”
“I’m sorry I have to go, love you, bye.” You say and you don’t even give him time to protest before you hang up. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem.” He must have guessed you wouldn’t be single, he feels jealousy invading him, and he fiddled with his empty cup. “Was that your boyfriend?”
“Gross, no.” There’s a wave of relief when you answer that, and he probably shouldn’t feel it, he’s leaving in a few days, it’s not like there’s the possibility of a relationship. “It was my brother, he can get all Mama Bear when he is worried.”
“Oh, is he your only brother?”
“No, I have three, Dean, Sam and Adam, I am the youngest, like by far, Dean is 19 years older, Sam is 15 years older and Adam beats me by 8 years.”
“That’s a big difference.”
“Yeah, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers, from dad’s first marriage, their mother died when they were very young and dad took it very hard and started to move them around the country, that’s how he met my mom, he went to Minnesota they had a one night stand and she got pregnant, but she didn’t tell him about Adam until he was like six, then he went back to Windom, they fell in love, dad moved them to Kansas, he married my mom and then they had me, hence the age gap.” You explain. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“No, I’m an only child, I grew up with Doctor Who and Star Trek as my companions.”
“Doctor Who?”
“Yeah, it’s, it’s good.”
“I know, I’m not gonna act like I didn’t mourn for a week when Ten left Rose on the beach.”
“You like it?”
“I may look like your stereotype cheerleader, but I’m a huge geek, Dean and his best friend Charlie made sure of that.”
The conversation flows as freely as water after that, for some reason you find it easy to talk to him, you tell him so many things you haven’t even told Jo, you talk about everything, favorite holidays; yours is Christmas, his is Halloween; tv shows, characters. You delite with his rambling and pay attention to every word he says, when you finally realize it, the sky has turned dark and you are the last people in the coffee shop.
“I think we should probably let them close.” 
“Yeah, we should.” You both take your bags and stand up. “Hey, when are you leaving town?”
“On friday.”
“Let me make you dinner, I make a killer lasagna.” You look at him expecting an answer but he can barely say anything, he just had an amazing evening with a gorgeous girl who is now inviting him to her house, he should probably pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. “Spencer?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“It’s a date then.”
Tumblr media
238 notes · View notes
hecohansen31 · 5 years ago
Text
A Little Pick Me Up:
Fire & Reign! Michael Langdon+Reader
(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!
I do have to say that this little fic is extremely out of my comfort zone and much different from my usual writing so if you want to send me a feedback about it I will be extremly grateful and love you for ever, because I am low key scared of how this can be perceived and if I did a good job!
(My DMs and asks are always open, also guys: do you see my ask button? Because people have told me that they can’t see it, and I don’t know why...).
I started with the idea of a much sweeter idea, F&R! Michael comforitng you because of your assholes friends, but it slowly developped into something more dirty and I mean... Michael does do the comforting but... be warned... that’s what I am trying to say...
AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED AND WANT MORE! (I honestly had fun, but I don’t know if I will ever get a similar idea in the future).
SUMMARY: You are in need of a little “pick-me-up” after your friends ruin the night, and an handsome strange might be what you might be indeed needing.
WORDS: 4,3 K
WARNINGS: Hard Unprotected (Stay Safe Lovely, and use condoms) Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Fingering, Choking and Degradation through harsh names and insults. Also use of dirty and vulgar terms.
Tumblr media
Her night had been distastefully bad, but it hadn’t hit its worst yet.
Still she had had to have a little break from her assholish friends.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like her friends: they were her friends because when they had met, she had honestly loved them (also all the other best friends had been taken…) but slowly she had grown and their interests hadn’t matched anymore.
She didn’t want to seem presumptuous, but she had felt like she had always tried her best to succeed, never being simply satisfied by arriving but shooting for the stars, whereas her friends had simply chosen the easiest way.
And worst of all, they didn’t understand those who had a different vision from them: she had been constantly bugged on being single, not in a relationship, not wanting to start a family and living her best life.
It just seemed difficult for them to fathom that her life could be perfect that way and at first they had taken away her self-esteem.
But then she had learnt that they weren’t worth the loss of her last  precious brain cells and she had tried her best to avoid them.
But her friends had insisted so much, saying that she wasn’t going out anymore so much that they all forgot how she looked like (she had said they had social media for that, but swiftly she had discovered it was easier to give up than to fight with them).
In the end she had fallen in the vicious circle of going back to her friends and she had spent exactly only five minutes and she was already annoyed by the entire atmosphere, choosing to go outside to be able to breath properly ad not surrounded by the smoke of cigarettes and lousy laughs, also to check her phone, since her friends labelled as antisocial, her checking her phone.
She had actually been expecting an important answer to a message, but her phoned showed still no notification, so she just decided to enjoy for a bit more the chance to breath regularly and not through her nose, before going back inside, adjusting slowly her hair.
And meanwhile she did this, she accidentally stumbled against a tall surface, much warmer than she had expected, immediately realizing that she had gone against a human body.
A very handsome body, she had reasoned, as soon as she had looked up, meeting beautiful azure eyes, shining even in the dark fall night, a thrill of definitely-not-because-of-the-cold-air appearing under her skin, reaching her hand, which trembled lightly.
He had the same constitution of statue sculpted by Fidia, with perfectly balanced elegant traits.
Each completely full of expression and elegance that made her immediately blush, under such a watchful gaze, making it all seem so unimportant to him, as if she wasn’t nothing than an annoying breath of wind on his face.
-… mind where you are going, lady- he simply warned her roughly, without even sharing a simple glance at her, which made her feel even more self-conscious and unable to reply anything properly, just choosing to nod, with her head down to avoid any kind of eye-contact.
She moved faster toward the bar, feeling immediately safe as soon as she entered it, knowing the stranger’s gaze wouldn’t follow her, there.
Although she could still feel it right on her back as if she had drawn a sign over it, a target practice for beautiful men with a huge ego.
She joined her friends and decided to let go for a few drinks, nothing to make her truly drunk, but enough to feel less self-conscious, meanwhile she danced around the bar.
But soon, even there, her amusement was interrupted shortly: a drunkard splashed horridly his beer on the front of her dress pants, and immediately one of her friends pushed her in the small bathroom of the club, suggesting she immediately rubbed off the stain or it would have stayed.
She had undressed, remaining just in her white shirt, and pink panties, and after she pushed her bag away from the ground, she had started brushing the pants together, having pushed them under the water a few minutes before, to let them soak.
When she was sure that the smell of beer was almost gone, she pushed them under the hot air supplier in order to dry them.
… and there, the door opened.
Catching her half-naked, her ass perfectly showed to the door, she turned and came face to face with the invader to reprimand them, just to find them to be the stranger she had met outside.
Now that light shone even better on him right, it brought out each curls of his molten gold hair, meanwhile his azure eyes were bright with amusement.
She didn’t understand if he was simply amused by the situation or satisfied with what he saw.
She managed to speak up finally, immediately shielding her modesty with her pants, meanwhile eyeing him with indignation.
-Can’t you see it’s occupied? – .
He didn’t seem to care, giving her an annoyed glance, moving closer which prompted her to try her best to back away, till she felt the wall against her skin.
Why had this shitty bathroom to be just a little room, with a sink and the toilette and nothing else?
The man still stopped a bit before her, enough that she could fit her whole arm between them.
-You were honestly taking too much time- he replied uninterested, although his eyes shone with feverish excitement at her shocked state, which got a furious glare from her.
-It won’t take me too long, I swear five minutes and I will leave you all alone- she pleaded, knowing that she was at its mercy.
That cruel smile roughly telling her that it wouldn’t have been that easy.
-… oh but I think that I lost any interest into anything I wanted to do before, after I saw a pretty girl bump into me- she tried not to give to the “pretty girl” too much thought (although she did), knowing he was toying with her exactly as a cat would do with a mouse.
She was just a game.
And she honestly was having the time of that night, playing it.
His rough demanding voice sent a few good thrills down her spine and hadn’t she bee so damnably embarrassed by what had happened and because of the danger of the entire situation, she might have thought about trying something against him back.
Thankfully she didn’t have to, because feeling her indecision, he moved closer, much more swiftly than she thought was humanly possible, pushing her front roughly against the wall, her face slamming decidedly without grace against the lattices at the window, but any pain she felt was immediately relieved by the gentle friction of his hard-on, against her barely-there panties, which prompted a low moan of appreciation from her.
-… still want me to get out, pretty girl? – he breathed in her neck, before pulling her hair back to expose more for his lips, starting to tease it mercilessly, kisses were followed by nibbles and hickeys, she was sure, would be soon blooming.
And her hips would be bruised by his grip, keeping her pushed against him, not leaving her any decision for their movements, just a slow, barely accentuated grinding session going on down there, meanwhile she tried to fathom the words.
She knew that the rational part in her was totally fighting against this.
She didn’t know the guy, but she wanted to be fucked by him oh so badly.
It had been so long since she had a man in her, and she missed more than the sensation, the intimacy of it all: a warm body against her, her most secret zones exposed for him to discover them and the little shivers of pleasure that followed an earth-shattering orgasm.
What he seemed to promise with his languid moves and expert touches.
He seemed to already know her body.
And he knew even her darkest secrets as soon as a sound slap was delivered to her ass for taking too much answering, meanwhile he gently distanced himself from her.
The coldness and the friction gone did help with thinking, but she couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh, meanwhile he turned around, with a look that called her the most pathetic creature in the universe, sweetened partially by his interested eyes, looking and wanting to hear an answer.
-I asked you a question- he articulated slowly each word, as if she needed him to do that for her to understand him, as if she was nothing more than a disobedient child (she should have seriously answered  with the rational part of her brain and got the hell out of there) -… do you want me to get out, leave you unsatisfied, to take care of yourself or do you want me to stay and take care of you, if you will be a good girl? -.
-I want you to stay- she uttered.
Maybe it was the fact that just a small taste had gotten her already addicted.
Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t gotten enough “action” lately.
Or maybe it was just the fact that he honestly looked like a dream come true and these occasions didn’t happen so often…
… so, she would be a stupid to refuse it.
… and freaking irresponsible to accept it.
-… I want you to stay… what? – and each word was punctuated with a slap to her ass, alternating her cheeks, before he roughly grabbed them both, smiling at the hiss she breathed out.
He was apparently in something much kinkier than what she had expected
-I want you to stay, Sir- she hoped she got it right and apparently she did, because this time he gently caressed her ass, meanwhile his other hand pushed itself under her shirt, searching her breasts, and cupping them through her bra, before also intruding itself in it, pinching her nipple and soft moan was released from her lips.
-Good girl- he mumbled, pushing her closer, till their lips mashed together, and his hand came to her neck blocking it there, the other hand tangling even more in her hair.
Meanwhile an hand made a quick work of her bra, the other moved into her panties, at first testing out the water, her own wetness sipping gently through her thighs, meanwhile he expertly brushed his long fingers against her heat, teasingly at first, letting her feel every inch of it, before he suddenly dipped one finger in her.
She immediately recoiled by snapping herself closer to him, impossibly close.
The moan she was halfway through releasing was again caught by his lips, but this time, another sound slap was delivered to her ass.
-Oh, babygirl, you need to be quiet, I didn’t say you could utter another word …- he smirked deviously -… unless it’s obviously sir or you begging for my cock-.
She nodded slightly, focusing more on his controlling tone than the actual words he was speaking out.
And everything was obliterated by the adding of another finger, which got her to try to grasp his hand, overwhelmed by the sensation, the burning of the penetration, her body needing a minute to ease the unease, not used to the stretch anymore, and the pleasure from the gentle pressure.
She felt herself lose completely in whatever he was doing to her, completely destroying her last shreds of dignity.
He cooed her moans mockingly, allowing her at least those, but no pity with his thrusts becoming more and more faster, meanwhile his thumb started roughly brushing against her clit.
-Aren’t you eager? – he made fun of her, and of her hips pushing back against his fingers -… and for who? A stranger… what a little cock-starved whore-.
She didn’t care even slightly about the insult, not when his words seemed so sweet and so alluring.
… and not most importantly, uncapable to have any kind of bite in her tongue, when he brushed against her softest spot.
He saw her face, turning blank and then her eyes almost rolling in the back of her head, and he just smirked deviously (she was sure it was a permanent feature of his), intensifying the movement of his finger and worst of all, pushing another in.
This got a very loud moan from her, chastised away with a rough slap on his part.
-… quiet, pet-.
… and worst than the reprimand was the fact he retrieved his fingers, just when she was the closest to losing her mind, in that fall that people liked to call orgasm.
This obviously got her to be bold:
-You can’t…- but before she could finish the phrase, he grabbed her throat, choking her lightly.
-What, pet? – he tried to make her speak, but she wasn’t able to utter a single word, meanwhile he was choking her roughly, applying more and more pressure, pushing her even more against the wall -… tell me you didn’t speak back, like a very bad girl-.
She wasn’t able to give an answer but tried to shake her head, not wanting to displease him.
It didn’t work.
His choking grip got harder, and she felt herself slowly losing herself again, but then he just released so suddenly that she immediately fell on her knees, breathing a relieved breath, meanwhile he gave her a minute to collect.
But her meditations and calm breaths came to a halt, the fingers, that had been in her, were swiftly pushed in her mouth, with the implicit order to clean them up, chocking her again, meanwhile they searched the inside of this throat, making her gag on them.
But the stranger was relentless.
He just made them exit her mouth, when he had enough for the pathetic show of her choking on them.
The desperation in her eyes seemed only a turn-on for him.
-Oh, sweetheart of mine, you have done so many bad things- he spoke up after he had cleaned the saliva of his finger on a side of her face -… first you ask for me to let you cum, when you have done nothing to deserve it-.
He faked being disappointed, even going as far as shaking his head.
-… then you go against my order of staying the fuck quiet-.
His shoe came between her thighs, spreading them, and revealing her panty clad core, not that the pinkish fabric did nothing to cover her arousal, coating even the inside of her thighs.
She seriously should have been ashamed to give a stranger such a show.
But she honestly didn’t care about dignity in that moment.
All she cared was to convince this stranger to soothe the painful ache in her center.
-… the punishment for all this misbehaving would be not to let you cum for tonight- her face must have shown her utter sadness at that, making him smile almost kindly, his fingers going under her chin to raise it -… but I am feeling generous tonight, and I will allow you another chance of redemption-.
His fingers left her chin so suddenly that she found herself staring at the ground, a laughter being emitted from his mouth, meanwhile his hands went to his belt, undoing it quickly, meanwhile another hand tangled in her hair.
She immediately understood what he was doing and in search of some redemption for her previous misbehaving she moved closer, nosing the evident bulge in his trouser, mouthing it over the fabric, stealing a hiss from him, meanwhile he brought her closer.
-… see… shit… you can be a good girl, can’t you, sweetie? – he cooed, meanwhile he helped her get it all out from his trouser and if she had thought the bulge was massive, the real thing was even worse.
Monstrous and slightly leaking already, although the stranger seemed unaffected by any of her ministrations, vocally.
And he gave her no time to recover from the discovery, pushing his cock between her lips.
His hand on her hair guiding her through it all, at first slowly, inching her closer to the base, meanwhile she tried to breath through her nose and not choke on it, remembering the teeth and stroking her tongue around it a few times.
But soon he became rougher, following only his pleasure, pushing and pulling her against his cock.
And worst of all he said such dirty things that went straight to her leaking center.
-What if somebody walks in on you like this… - he said, meanwhile he kept her choked against his pubic bone, her throat being stretched to unexpected lengths -… they will think that you are an whore for blowing the first guy that comes around-.
He finally released the grip, but didn’t let her get away from his cock, no matter the fact that she was roughly gagging on it, slowly losing her breath.
-… I bet your friends would have never thought to have such as an whore like you amongst them- he laughed loudly, almost childishly -… thank God, I found you before any of them, I would hate to share such a body and such a pretty mouth-.
And to enforce his affirmation he traced her swollen lips, meanwhile they circled his cock.
She knew that, no matter the mocking words, he was close to finishing and was surprised when he moved her off of his cock, thinking that she might have done something wrong, but all she saw was the damned  smirk, almost mocking her for her own desperation.
But she hadn’t thought about the worst.
The stranger started jerking himself of off her and immediately she understood what he wanted to do.
A splash of cum hit her face and she made it just in time to close her eyes before her entire face was sticky with his cum, her mascara running down and her gloss appearing even more shiny.
She honestly couldn’t fathom how humiliating it was, but she didn’t move or did anything out of pure fear of what he might have done…
… how worse how he could have tortured her, teasing her for longer than she could wait for.
-… see, my girl can be quite good when she wants to- he winked at her, before helping her up, much more gently than he had handled her a few minutes before, gently picking her up, and pushing her against the wall, meanwhile she instinctively gripped her legs around his waist -… I think that now that I know how your mouth feels, I can’t wait to discover how tight your little cunt is-.
And he pushed in her, not losing for even a moment his hardness.
On her part she lost again her breath, hissing roughly on his shoulder, meanwhile her nails sink themselves in his back: she felt pain, at first, the stretch was so sudden, but pitifully he gave her enough time to adjust herself to the new sensation, soon pleasure blooming by the friction between their bodies, heightened by his sleight of hand of touching her clit, rubbing it furiously.
Her swollen folds welcomed him inside with every thrust, pushing her against the wall and closer to the edge, because if she had been excited and aroused, now that she had a taste, she was reckless and free, trying to ignore the burning stretch of her muscles, overused and tired of the uncomfortable position.
He carried her as if she weighted nothing, encouraging her to moved faster and faster on him, murmuring the dirtiest praises in her ear.
“What a good little slut for me” “Only a whore of my cock” “The fact that someone might walk in meanwhile I fuck your little pussy open is actually exciting you, isn’t it?”.
She was done, much faster than him, but each time she was the closest to getting her well-deserved orgasm, he relented the rhythm, even going as far as to pinch her oversensitive clit, looking at her, expecting.
She was so lost in pleasure and her own destruction that she didn’t know what he was looking for, till his eyes felt to her lips, which she opened, finally pleading her case:
-Sir, let me cum… ? – although it was worded as a question, there was some sick desperation behind it which spoke of endless nights spent alone and the willingness to do anything to get a single orgasm in that night.
… possibly, in that moment.
-You didn’t say the magic world, slut of mine- his hands went to her throat pushing her against the wall even more and pulling her hair back, making her throw her head back, making her roughly buckle her hips into him, trying to bring him closer.
-Please… please- she was breathless and her hips were slowly losing their ways, tired and unsatisfied, almost as if this was worthless, but thankfully the stranger kept up the pace for her, definitely pushing her closer, his hand again on his clit.
-… good girl- he cooed, delivering a few pretty brutal thrusts to point out each word -… but do you deserve to cum? -.
She honestly wanted to tell him that he was the one who didn’t deserve to cum was him.
But no amount of her being a smartass or talking back would have brought her to the finale she deserved, so she just shook her head, some of the tears which had formed, fell faster on her cheeks.
-I don’t… but…- a thrust cut her off, but she could see from his smirk and the fact that the force which lead his thrusts -…I will be on my best behavior, sir, if you let me-.
Her entire breath gave out under here and she choked on air, but she knew she had gotten what she had wanted, when his gaze finally became serious, pleasure taking over any scheme he might have had in his mind.
-Say my name when you cum- he just replied, meanwhile his thrust hit her right in her perfect spot, his hands pushing her shoulder up his and finally giving up any semblance of control, letting her finally feel truly free.
Free to crash and fall and let go.
-Michael! – she just screeched, her nails digging in his skin to keep herself anchored on him, meanwhile the flow of pleasure brought her to another planet.
The proverbial knot in her stomach immediately unknotting herself as she let go, all over him.
She didn’t care about anything.
He held her tight and kept her legs from giving out, pushing recklessly just for his own pleasure, which he reached a few minutes after, his seed pooling in her, but some also tricked down her thighs.
And then all the tension and tiredness came back and slowly they untangled form himself, with him also exiting her, his seed flowing largely outside of her, and he reached down gently collecting the mix of their pleasure, tasting the mix of the two, meanwhile she tried to collect her breath.
And after he had a taste of her, he finally snapped out of it.
His visage becoming gentler and he reached for her bag, pushing out her tissues and staining it with a bit of water, before moving to clean her cum-filled face and holes, with a gentleness he didn’t own, before, meanwhile his  lips traced gently her neckline, as if shushing a scared child.
-Sweetheart, aren’t you happy I decided to pay you a little visit? – he cooed gently, meanwhile she basked in the afterglow of her intense orgasm and his gentle affection.
-Uhm..- she mumbled, trying to connect her last brain cells to answer him -… I thought you weren’t supposed to arrive till tomorrow-.
-Missed you too much- he nuzzled her shoulder, meanwhile kissing the little hickey he had left there.
She and Michael had discovered this kink, “the-impersonating-strangers-and-fucking”, one night over at a bar, when Michael had joked about not knowing her, trying to pick her up and flirt with her and she had kept up the game.
This had led to a mind-blowing sex experience they usually replayed whenever they were stressed or needed a little pick-me-up, indeed.
She had been surprised to see Michael outside but seeing his reaction, she had immediately recognized that he had wanted to play and acted out the entire thing, imagining he was a stranger.
It just gave them the right adrenaline thrill, but also it was safety into exploring such a wild fantasy with somebody you knew.
-… also, I saw that you were in need of a little pick-me-up- he giggled, completely moving away from his dom persona, unlike her who was half-asleep and still half in her sub-space.
Her legs burning like hell and she was halfway through slipping on him, with them giving out on him.
-… and it worked- she smiled, sweetly, before leaning in for a kiss, meanwhile she wrapped her arms the tightest around his neck -… I am the most satisfied ever-.
He laughed at her sleepy voice, and immediately he threw her over his shoulder, after having pushed his coat over her shoulder, in order to shield her naked ass.
-I hope you are not too satisfied…- he asked almost threatening her, a dark age of erotism clear in her voice and she was suddenly brought awake from her tired cage -… because I intend to have a second round with you, in a proper bed-.
-Getting tired, old man? – she made fun of him, just getting a dark laugh from him, the one that promised her not to be able to walk in the morning.
-No, I have a lot of alone nights to make up for-.
...
So, lovelies... I hope you liked this, let me know what you thought about it (I am very curious to know your thoughts, mostly because this was very out of my comfort zone...) and here it is a lovely list of my favorite people, who might enjoy this!
@so-langdon @blakewaterxx @emmyrosee @rocketgirl2410 @hplotrfan @1-800-bitchcraft @lovelylangdonx @drama-penguins @dramapenguinthe3rd @yourfavoritefairy @rosz93 @eternalnostalgia @langdonsoutpost @hxdesworld @michaels-fallen-angel @daddyjiel @langdonsinferno @signatureroast-burntasshole @kleineshaschen @ladynuwanda
67 notes · View notes
the-full-shakespearience · 6 years ago
Text
Pride and Prejudice Characters as @dril Tweets
Mrs. Bennet: Im an exhausting person to be around but once you get to knnow me im actually a giant shithead with irredeemable mouth
 Mr. Bennet: damn it to piss, my wife replaced all of my anti-wife reading materials with Pro-Wife bullshit
 Elizabeth Bennet: Please dm my agent if you wish to Banter with me in the mentions, se he can send you the proper paperwork. Im extremely tired of this shit.
 Mr. Darcy: Go ahead. Keep screaming “Shut The Fuck Up” at me. It only makes my opinions Worse
 Jane Bennet: THIngs other people like: being bastards, being Uniformly tasteless
THINGS I Like: Being reasonably kind, and trying to help, when I can
 Mr. Bingley: DOCTOR: you cant keep doing this to yourself, being The Last True Good Boy online will destroy you. You must stop posting with honor
ME: No,
 Lydia Bennet: Obliviously driving m y car though chernobyl , absorbing lethal anmounts of radiation while looking for cute boys
 Mary Bennet: The wise man bowed his head solemnly and spoke: “theres actually zero difference between good & bad things. You imbecile. You fucking moron”
 Kitty Bennet: writing a scathing letter to THE MEDIA for letting me become DUMB as SHIT !!
 Mr. Wickham: im at the point in my life where i cant relate to any popular fictional characters unless they use massive amounts of hair gel and steroids
 Caroline Bingley: I just need to say, to anyone reading this.. you are Important, You are loved, and You belong in this world, if you have over 5000 followers
 Mr. Collins: Please bring your rats to the new castle flea market so I may bless/heal them. Ill be sitting in a lawn chair wearing a stolen priest outfit
 Lady Catherine: I feell like im being unfairly targeted during this paintball match just because im the only one wearing a tuxedo
 Charlotte Lucas: love, friendship, beauty – it all crumbles into dust. but Memes are eternal
307 notes · View notes
Text
instead of a chapter this week, here’s my writeup of how the first session of DIE went with my group. (sorry) (hopefully this is as entertaining)
In 2007, Tomb of the Worm King, a high fantasy-in-space mmorpg, launched. Three months later, it closed before the Worm King raid was even released. During the beta, the developers grouped testers together into artificial guilds... and after the game fell apart, our group of testers tried to homebrew a trpg system in order to keep playing. Needless to say, it didn’t go well. 
It’s 2027 now. 
Below the cut: everything my players are not allowed to read. Starting with the DM prep I did, if you’re planning a game and just want to read that.
Prep:
It wasn’t feasible for me to bring my laptop to the space where we play, so I had to try to write down everything that I wanted to remember for the session that wasn’t already on the cheat sheets. 
Things I ended up needing that I prepped: short versions of who to give the archetypes to, the long list of monster special abilities to create a custom fallen on the fly, rules for the Dictator targeting multiple people, melee/close/medium/far range rules.
Things I prepped and didn’t need this time, but probably will: God Debt rules, other ways to bring a Fallen back (taking memories sounds rad).
Things I forgot and wished I had written down: That the Neo’s systems coming online is supposed to be dramatic and have visual effects, that the book recommends offering a major miracle in the first encounter.
For Fair Gold, I tried to clean some pennies but ended up tarnishing them. Luckily, the person who’s condo complex we play at had some gold spray paint and we did that after the first session. For cheat tokens, I’m using popsicle sticks marked on one side, because the world’s oldest board game used them instead of dice, and Kieron says he like using weird dice but it gets confusing. 
Oh, and we ended up making folded name thingies for our personas, like we were still in middle school. That was a good idea.
The Cast:
Franz Gibson, a volunteer firefighter who quit his job as an accountant after he found out his wife was cheating on him with his boss. Has twin 7-year old boys who he misses terribly, and only weekend visitation. Was 17 in 2007. Playing Whylock the Enlightened, a Godbinder. Core desire: feels out of place in real life, more out of place in the game.
Sophia Twist, a Dickensian orphan who was 12 in 2007 but pretended to be 17. Inspired by Tomb of the Worm King, went to school to become a computer scientist, but decided not to go into game dev and became a cyber security expert. Playing Intel, a Neo. Core desire: I’m guessing her parents.
AJ Bryant, a culture reporter by day and youtuber by... afternoon? Started as a Let’s Play channel, but came out as a trans man and started transitioning a few years into it, and ended up doing a lot of leftist reactions to current events. Was 16 in 2007. Broke up with his boyfriend of over 4 years just under a year ago, and spent six months completely out of it. Playing Jett, a Dictator. Core desire: wants the privacy he was denied when he became a minor internet celebrity young.
Thomas Bryant, an accountant who hates being called Tommy. Was 14 in 2007, which made him the group baby. Worked at Walmart for a long time, but eventually went back to school to get his current job. Has been on and off with his boyfriend Michael for four years, and was planning to break up again, except Michael’s mom just died. Ouch. Playing Genevieve, an Amazement Knight. Core desire: not sure, but maybe boredom? Boredom got him to go back to school, and he is playing a knight of surprise.
Tripp Declan, a skeezy used car salesman and former frat boy. Was 17 in 2007. The less said about his attitude towards women the better, but his core drive is a fear of getting older. Playing Flip, the magnificent Fool.
Elena Forbes, who in 2007 was 21 and secretly a developer monitoring the group’s dynamics. After Tomb of the Worm King shut down, revealed her true identity to the group. Recently laid off just before a game shipped, so her name won’t be in the credits, so she can’t claim the game on her resume. Many years ago, warned Sophia not to go into game dev. Artistically frustrated. The Master, of course. 
Yes, I named my persona by mashing up two characters from The Vampire Diaries, knowing no one else at the table had ever watched it. 
(setting it in 2027 turned out to be a mistake, because whenever I prod people for popular culture they get vague because we don’t know what people in 2027 will be watching/reading/playing. but also, most of our players were 10 years old in 2007, and pushing back our teenage years back too far would be weird. and I wanted that where-did-my-life-go feeling from the comic.)
The Session:
During persona generation, I make sure to say Elena lives in a place with a space like the room we were playing in. I also take the hit as the person who falls prey to the Geek Social Fallacies enough not to kick Tripp out for being a creep. There’s an interesting divide between the players who work out their personas aloud and the ones who want to have a nearly-finished product before they say anything.
During character creation, when Tripp reads the beginning of the Fool’s character sheet aloud everyone groans at “their friends have to deal with the consequences”. This will probably happen with a lot of groups, if you give the Fool to the obvious candidate.
We ordered food in between persona generation and character creation, but we actually ate it in between character creation and getting sucked into the game world. This worked out great because doing character creation entirely in character was a bit much for me, so we ended up eating dinner as our personas instead. Turns out Franz has the same nut allergy as his player, but his sons love peanut butter. A modern tragedy.
After being sucked into the fantasy world, Elena transforms into Vesuvia, High Priestess of the Worm King and recognizable NPC from the old game. I don’t highlight that she transforms after grabbing her die hard enough, and have to make the other dice glow in order to prompt my players. Thomas tries to grab Tripp’s die when they’re the only two left, and I almost want to let it happen, but then I imagine running  Tripp as an Amazement Knight and... nope. 
Before the fighting starts, Thomas’s sword tells him to look at the door opposite the one the Fallen use to enter, ensuring that he’s surprised. I don’t give him a disadvantage on initiative, but when he ties with someone, I make him go second.
The first encounter reskins the Fallen as the Xenomorph ripoffs from Tomb of the Worm King’s starting zone, except they’re cybernetic in a way they weren’t before. After the first round of combat, a knockoff Xenomorph queen appears—the final boss of the only raid that the game launched with. Elena’s sent it as part of the first encounter to demonstrate that she’s done with old content. It’s time to get to newer things.
The Neo hasn’t read her character sheet completely and is very surprised when I tell her she has a slot in the back of her neck. Her AI System is more fun to act as than the Knight’s “aggressive” sword. The Lady of Ashes—the Godbinder’s fire god—is more fun than either. (Luckily he only casts fire spells this session, so I get some time to think about his other two gods: Brightbearer and the Master of Windows.)
After they defeat the Fallen, Thomas opens the door his sword pointed out to him earlier revealing... the Academy, part of the game’s starting zone. End of session. We go spray paint some coins.
Plans:
Give Sophia a chance to save her parents. Give Franz a chance to one-up James. Tempt Tripp with beautiful women. Unsettle AJ with the fact that as a Dictator, he doesn’t have any more privacy here than in the real world. 
Tomb of the Worm King didn’t give the players spaceships, just teleportation pads for jumping between planets. Give players a choice between hopping between pads to get to the final encounter or going overland to find and defeat those guarding the pad that brings them straight there. They’ll encounter similar encounters, but with different texture.
During the final encounter, Elena reveals that Vesuvia was always supposed to defect and help the players defeat the Worm King. All they need to do is agree to stay, and they can finish the raid, and then keep playing. Keep playing forever. Oh, and she’s not going to agree to leave.
2 notes · View notes
im-not-a-writer · 7 years ago
Text
Jacob Frye x Reader ~ CHAPTER 5
~~Here we are my dears! Thank you for all the constant support it really means a lot! Now I don’t want to give too much away but the next few chapters aren’t going to be as fluffy and sweet just saying lol... sorry not sorry! Anyways as always if you want to be added to the taglist then please shoot me a dm! Thank you and enjoy~~
Tumblr media
Your breath billowed out in front of you like a puff of smoke and a bitter breeze nipped at your exposed shoulders making you shiver and bring your shawl closer to you. The carriage that dropped you off rolled away to leave you standing alone on a street filled with eager party goers, dandy lads and ladies dressed in their finest all holding each others arms and smiling at each others presence. You started walking, joining the crowd, the soft sound of your heels clicking melting into the conglomerate of monotonous murmuring and soft giggling from party goers. You stepped and stared forward to admire the the estate; the gas lamps were alive with bright flames casting a soft orange glow across the courtyard and the flower beds had a thin sheet of snow draping across them reminding you of the chill in the air. An arm slid through yours and pulled you closer causing a bit of warmth to spread through your right side. The man at your side stepped in time with you, smiling and leaning closer mimicking the happy go lucky attitude of the people around you.
“You look lovely tonight darling,” Jacob whispered down at you, his smirk almost audible.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you smiled softly back, trying not to seem like you were enjoying yourself too much as it wasn’t becoming of a lady.
His suit fitted him perfectly, turning the mischievous assassin into a dashing nobleman, it almost fooled you. You looked down at yourself and smirked at Evie’s handiwork. She chose a dark royal blue gown with champagne accents, white ruffles, and a shawl to match. The corset hugged close to your waist limiting your movements and yet the skirt provided ample room to hide the blade you had strapped to your upper thigh. Confidence surged through you unexpectedly as you strolled your way towards the entrance, wearing such a gown was a completely new experience and if you were being entirely honest you sort of enjoyed the glaces and the stares, and more importantly the attention you were getting from Jacob.
“You know the plan?” He whispered into your ear and you giggled as if he was saying some flirty bit of small talk.
“Of course. The target is Lord Clarke, best course of action is to lure him to his drawing room, kill him, take the documents, and hide his body in the maids closet.” You giggled softly and leaned closer to him, covering your words with your actions.
He slipped your invitation into your right hand and smirked when he felt the sharp edge of your hidden blade from under your shawl. He pulled you closer and whispered into your ear, warm breath tickling your cheek making you blush deep red. “You really do look ravishing tonight love and quite dangerous as well,” his voice dropped to a husky whisper only to be cut off by an inpatient doorman.
“Your invitations sir? Madam?” The doorman stared down at the both of you and you handed him your invitation with a smile and waited for Jacob to hand over his as well. “Enjoy the ball,”
You entered the estate and warmth overtook you immediately, well dressed lords and dames gossiped and chatted while waiters danced around the room holding out trays of food and drink only to be heavily ignored by the nobility in the room. The man holding your arm grabbed a glass of champagne and took a sip before tilting his head towards the center of the room.
“Do you see him?” He mumbled and you stared into the crowd.
Your eyes scanned the crowd before they caught the Lord Clarke, standing in the middle of a crowd of easily impressed men and women wearing a snow white suit with a matching top hat, he looked to be preaching about something concerning his massive wealth or his social standing and the onlookers ate it up greedily.
“Bloke in the white suit on a soapbox? How could I miss him,” You smiled and pulled a blue paper fan out from your cleavage.
“What the.. You can fit that in there!?” Jacob turned to you, shocked, breaking his character out of pure curiosity.
You giggled and hit him playfully on the shoulder before releasing his arm and unfolding the fan with a flick of your wrist, “Does it look like I have pockets in this thing? And besides, I’m full of surprises darling,” You winked and sauntered off towards your target.
Every step you took was carefully calculated to create the perfect lady persona, more importantly, the perfect single lady persona. You fanned yourself slowly, careful to keep your blade arm as concealed as possible behind your shawl, from behind the fan you could see the lord had already taken interest in you; his blue eyes caught yours and he was quick to throw a smirk your way and break from the crowd. The ladies waiting on his every breath in his little audience all shot you quick glares of annoyance and huffed, prancing away to find something else to gawk at. As he started approaching you felt your pulse quicken, your entire mission was dependent on your ability to gain the lords interest and convince him to take you upstairs.... In short you had to seduce the man… while your lover watched.
“Good evening my dear, are you enjoying yourself?” He smiled brightly at you and you brought the fan low near your lips.
“Why, yes of course my lord, the ball is absolutely lovely,” You smiled back sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes.
The lord was no doubt handsome and he knew it, dark ash blonde hair peeking from his top hat and bright oceanic blue eyes lighting up the ball room. He was taller than Jacob, slim but healthy build, and he had a smile so bright it could melt a thousand candle sticks. In all honesty you were quite pleased that this was the man you had to seduce and not some pot-bellied politician with a preference for younger women and dark liquors.
“My lady I notice, you are all alone, now how might the most beautiful woman here manage that?” He sauntered closer and spoke with the utmost confidence, “Why I do say it’s a crime for you to be alone while all these other ladies have arms to hold,”
You giggled lightly and fanned yourself a bit faster, tilting your head you leaned in a bit closer, “My lord if you’re able to keep a secret..,” He leaned down to your level and you were able to get close to his ear, “I do hate crowds, and I must say…” Your right arm rested on his, a dangerous move considering your hidden blade was just an inch or so from his skin, any wrong move and the entire mission would be a complete failure, “You are something the other men here simply are not… you are completely irresistible my lord,”
Jacob sat and watched the entire thing, he told himself it was so he could see how you were completing the mission but God knows he was watching to make sure that pompous little beanstalk didn’t lay a hand on you. He watched carefully, eyeing the way you fanned yourself, the way you tilted your head back ever so slightly as to show off your slender neck, your hand resting on his arm. He knew that he could be off gathering intel or finding some interesting item to pocket but he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene in front of him. That should be him, your hand on his arm, whispering oh so close to his ear, temptation practically dripping from the entire conversation. Jacob sipped his champagne and dusted on a fake smile but he was fighting back the urge to throw the Lord Clarke aside and claim your lips right there in front of the entire party, to let everyone know that you were his and he was yours.
“Come my dear, let’s get you away from this crowd, you look practically overwhelmed,” Lord Clarke smiled down at you and allowed one of his hands to rest on your waist while the other one took your hand lightly.
You smiled up at him and nodded slightly, “Lead the way my lord.”
The second his hand touched your waist Jacob knew he couldn’t bear to watch any further, the lord was approaching a line he dared not cross or there would be hell to pay. ‘Well, at least he’s dying soon,’ Jacob thought to himself before strolling out of the main ballroom and finding a more quiet room for him to snoop around in while you did the real work upstairs.
Lord Clarke walked slowly with you, giving you ample time to assess your surroundings and finalize your plan in your mind all while maintaining your mindless and desperate lady persona. The halls were surprisingly dark minus a few lamps here or there and the lord started to pull you closer, his hand reaching around farther and starting to drop lower than just your waist. There were large paintings on the walls, tapestries and statues lined the corridor, all paid for by the efforts of child labor.
“Right this way my lady,” He lead you to the right, allowing you to enter his drawing room before you so you could admire the decor, and so he could lock the door behind him.
The room was dark, the only light was from a gas lamp outside on the street and the moon, big and bright shining through the thin curtains and casting a silver glow across the floor. You knew he had locked the door and yet you stayed perfectly calm, this was all going according to plan. He started to walk closer and you continued to pretend that you were still admiring the paintings and the hand-carved desk. His wandering hands held onto your hips and brought you back to his chest.
“Now darling, completely alone, do you feel better?” The lust dripped from his voice and you fought back the urge to gag.
“Much,” you leaned back into his chest and allowed his hands to travel. “Why don’t we get more comfortable my lord,”
You pulled away from him and sauntered over to his desk, running your hand over the dark wood, a smirk etched onto your face. He seemed to catch your drift because in a mere second he was back with you, his hands on your waist, lifting you up to sit on his desk. You brought your hand down and started lifting up your skirts and he eagerly began running his hands over your legs, one started to travel dangerously high and you fought against every urge telling you to stab him now and get it over with, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face towards your neck.
“Do not tease me my lord,” You said in a husky whisper.
Lord Clarke eagerly took the hint and practically attacked your neck with his mouth, eager, sloppy kisses plagued your exposed flesh while his hand worked up dangerously high on your right thigh before it stopped. It all stopped. He pulled away from you and his hand rested on the cool blade of the dagger you had strapped to your thigh.
“What the hell?” He looked up at you and you smiled sweetly before flicking your wrist and sending your blade straight into his chest.
Swiftly you caught his body and laid him down on the ground, ready for the first real exchange of words for the night.
“You… you bloody assassins… can’t a man have a little fun,” He coughed and clutched at his chest.
“You had your fair share of fun, taking money from innocent children, throwing massive balls to distract from your thievery, putting your grubby hands on every woman who is stupid enough to talk to you, oh I do say, you have had loads of fun.” You smiled and watched as life slowly started to drain from his eyes. A rose of blood started to blossom through his white suit.
“Those children would starve if I didn’t give them a place to work, they would be on the streets playing in the filth until they die in it,” He spat, holding his wound tightly.
“Beating them, keeping them working until their limbs almost fall off, not allowing them to go home until they’ve finished work, and then taking away over half their piss poor wages… aren’t you just a good samaritan.” You shook your head and watched as the final bit of light drained from his eyes. He let out a final breath and that was all, the lord was finished. “Rest in peace…bastard” You sighed and took out a white cloth from your breasts and dragged it swiftly over the pool of blood on his chest before standing and wiping your blade clean as to not get any blood on your shawl.
You dragged the lord to the maids closet and shut the door before returning to his desk. You eyed the furniture and sighed when you realized it was ultimately drawerless, you almost forgot it entirely till you noticed two small hinges hidden under the lip of the desk. Smiling to yourself you flicked out your blade and shoved it under the lip, prying open the locked secret compartment. Nestled inside were a stack of papers, all signed by lord Clarke and ready for delivery. Swiftly you folded up the papers, shoved them down your cleavage and made your way downstairs to find Jacob.
You descended the stairs and melted into the crowd of people that were waiting for lord Clarke’s return, eagerly watching the staircase for any sign of the white clad man and his dazzling smile. You scanned the crowd but couldn’t find Jacob anywhere. You broke away from the crowd and entered a smaller room, a few party goers sat and sipped drinks and gossiped in front of a wooden folding screen that divided the room in half. You sighed and stepped swiftly behind the screen trying to think of where Jacob might be before nearly stepping on him.
The dark haired assassin was looting through a chest and perked up when you walked behind him. “There you are! You had me worried,” He stood up and smiled at you, taking your hands in his.
You smiled back and shivered as you could still feel lord Clarkes wandering hands on your body. “It’s done and I have the papers,” You patted your breasts and Jacob gawked back at you.
“You’re telling me they’re in there?!” He stammered with his mouth agape and eyes wide; he looked like a fish gasping for water.
It wasn’t long before he noticed how red the side of your neck was. It was obvious what had happened and he wasn’t thrilled.
“Is everything alright? He didn’t touch you did he?” His tone turned deathly serious and you shrugged it off.
“It was nothing, he did a number here though,” You sighed and rubbed your sore neck and Jacob growled and placed his hand over the red skin.
“He is so lucky that he’s dead or I would rip him apart.” He snarled.
You chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, relishing in the feeling for a brief second. “Come on let’s get out of here,” You took his arm and you left briskly, walking in time with each other and bidding the doorman a good night.
The chill of the night met your skin again and you pulled yourself closer to Jacob trying to steal all of his warmth for yourself, to this he chuckled and put his arm around your shoulder and continued escorting you to an empty carriage down the street. He didn’t bother with the driver instead he simply pulled the man from his seat and took his place as driver, waiting for you to enter the carriage and sit down. The older man exclaimed loudly, stumbling as he was thrown from his seat but the sound of hooves and the rolling of the carriage wheels drowned out his shouts.
In the solidarity of the carriage you could finally breathe, your mind was swimming with the events of the night; the mission, the party, the dress, and that dirty fool of a lord. You could feel his breath on your neck and his hand slithering up your gown, of course the mission had gone perfectly but you didn’t feel quite as happy as you should have. A part of you felt like you should have killed the bastard before you let him touch you but there was no telling how that could have gone, no…. You did the right thing.
The second you entered your flat you started ripping your dress off, your fingers flying to untie the corset only to be pulled away and replaced with Jacobs.
“Calm down darling, let me help you,” He chuckled and you sighed, allowing him to make quick work of the corset strings.
Once you were finally released from your fabric prison you grabbed a baggy white shirt that may or not be Jacob’s, you couldn’t care less, and you made your way upstairs to your bed where he was already laying down reading the documents you took. He looked at you and grinned happily.
“Is that my shirt?” He questioned.
“Probably,” You smiled and climbed over him to lay down on the other side of the bed. You rested your head on his chest and sighed.
Jacob put the documents on the floor and wrapped his arms around you, “Tell me what happened,”
And so you did. You told him everything and although he was astonished with how you completed the mission so well and he was just as upset as you were. “You did what you had to do… you did a good job,”
“You know, you’re the only man that’s ever touched me..” You sighed and listened to his heart beat.
      “Is that so?” Jacob smirked and pressed a kiss to your lips and you lifted yourself up to hover over him. “I can’t blame the bastard though, you looked absolutely amazing in that gown,” He smirked and you scoffed in return.
You sat up entirely and captured his lips, your hands moved up to hold his and you started positioning yourself to straddle his hips. You leaned down and continued to kiss him, lips moving in harmony before you pushed farther, getting more and more eager with every second. He tried to move his hands but you were holding him down sternly, holding his wrists near his head, not allowing him what he wanted so desperately. Slowly you left his lips leaving him gasping and you started to move your kisses further south, stopping to nip and suck at his exposed neck, smiling against his skin as he let out a deep moan.
“My aren’t you an eager one?” He exclaimed after catching himself moan.
You smirked in reply and you shifted your weight a bit, receiving another deep moan as a reward, “You’re the only man that’s ever touched me love, being so close to another man… I missed you” You giggled and continued off where you were on his neck.
“Oh darling…” he let out a pleasured sigh as you found a sweet spot on his neck. “I missed you too.”
He finally broke free from your grip and his hands flew to your body, one resting on your hip the other tangling itself in your hair, he brought your face back up to his and your lips collided in a passionate dance. Jacob started to sit up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his arms wrapped around your middle bringing you flush to his chest. One of his hands started to snake up your shirt, resting on your bear back and you rested your hands on his chest, your fingers running over his exposed crow tattoo.
“So is this how our evening is going to go?” He pulled away and tilted his head, a cheeky grin on his face.
“I think so,” You smiled and giggled softy.
“Sounds good to me dear,” A wild fire was lit behind his hazel eyes but you stopped him in his tracks.
You smirked devilishly and tugged on his trousers. “You’re not going to need these,”
~~Taglist: 
@littlewhitefairy7777 @temerey @talesfromassassiansguardian @eliffromthebrotherhood @i-am-totes-sherlocked @icarrotcake @seapandaftw @pwedatorpanda @comic-freak @nunalula
174 notes · View notes
hqcentineo-blog · 6 years ago
Text
late to the party — condineo
Date / Time / Location : Saturday September 29, 2018 / 12:30AM / Los Angeles, CA Background Info : After getting the cold shoulder from Lana for the better part of two weeks (much deserved after the shitty texts he sent her after a night of drinking), Noah finds out via insta story that she’s in LA. And hasn’t told him. It’s time to make this a face-to-face fight. Featuring : Lana Condor @lanacndr ; Mentioning : Camila Mendes @hqcami TRIGGER WARNING : N O N E
Noah: It was coming up on two weeks since Noah had heard from Lana; this was the longest they’d gone without communication since they’d met and it still left a bad taste in Noah’s mouth anytime this fact came to mind. His life felt off kilter, his world skewed like a wheel on a bent axis. He didn’t remember how to live a life that didn’t include her and it really annoyed him. In an attempt to forge a new normal, Noah had his boys on stand-by, a crew of friends ready to go out and hang at moments notice. But for now, he was at his house, spending some time with himself in an attempt to keep his head clear. Since he was in training for his next film, there was no booze in his house. As long as he stayed home, he was good. Lounging on his couch, Noah scrolled instagram, ignoring his flooding DMs, seeing what his friends were up to in their respective lives. After a while, he did what he always did and typed Lana’s name, watching as her profile appeared, a multicolored circle around her icon, signifying that she had added to her story. He wanted to watch it but he didn’t really want his name to appear as having watched it. After some internal debate, he tapped the screen, the image of Lana dancing in a dark club with a bunch of friends-including the likes of his other former costar Camila Mendes-appearing before his very eyes. He tapped the screen to replay the video, taking note of the unique light patterns on the wall behind the bar. He knew that place. It wasn’t in Vancouver; it was in West Hollywood. Lana was in LA and hadn’t even told him. With a three word text to the group thread, Noah jumped off the couch and ran for his bedroom to get ready. ‘WeHo. Let’s go.’
Lana: It was strange for Lana to go this long without speaking to Noah; it felt unnatural, as though something had broken, throwing her for a loop. This was her world, without him in it – and she didn't like it. Not one bit. She didn't know how to be his friend... not like this. She'd heard her fair share of voicemails, they begun filling up her inbox, and in an effort to hear his voice, she'd listen to them. Again. And again. And again. Why don't you just call him? It was her pride keeping her from taking that step, and maybe, she wanted him to understand just how hurt she was by his words. She knew he had been drunk, that it was unintentional, but she was of the thought: drunken words speak sober thoughts. Somewhere, deep down, he must have believed what he said. It must have explained why, when she knew she was going to LA, that she didn't tell him. She hadn't reached out, because she wasn't sure if she was ready to see him – or maybe she was, but she couldn't bring herself to. Not after how they left things when he was last in Vancouver, and not after the last two weeks. Gathering with her friends in town, they'd set out for a night on the town with no particular goal in mind, but to dance and drink her troubles away for the evening.Dressed in venue-appropriate attire, and make-up that accentuated her features, highlighting the apples of her cheeks, Lana had no trouble blending in with the magnanimous aesthetic of her chosen squad for the night's activities. The waving of phones and cameras at one another, filming it and sharing it for all to see. She hadn't done it to throw it in his face, in fact, she ensured the name of the venue was obscured and that there was no clear indication of where she was partying; in the case a fan or two wanted to appear, and join in on her shenanigans. Dim neon lights illuminate various line of their bodies, the music resonating over the crowd; a boisterous laugh leaving her lips as she stumbled into a booth with her friends. Dark eyes roaming the club, watching the club-goers lose themselves in the ecstasy of the setting, searching and searching, until... she sees him. Was she drunk? No, it couldn't be. It was really him. It was Noah.
Noah: The music was blasting loud enough to be heard from the other end of the block. Climbing out of the black Escalade Uber with his friends, Noah swallowed hard as he ran a hand through his hair. He was nervous. Nervous to see her, nervous to follow the plan he’d semi-constructed in his head with the hopes of getting near enough to speak to her, nervous across the board. This entire situation was beyond stupid and Noah silently cursed himself for putting them in the space they were currently inhabiting as he and his crew neared the roped off entrance to the club. A broad smile from Noah was met by a recognizing nodding from the bouncer and the red velvet rope was immediately moved aside for them, allowing he and his five best buds passage into the dark venue, much to the dismay of the line of partygoers who’d been waiting their turn. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, the only source of light coming from the flashing neon colors that bounced off the walls like gumdrops. For all he knew, Lana was gone. Those videos had gone on her story nearly an hour ago and, for all he knew, this whole thing was for naught. He ordered a drink and grabbed an open booth, sitting down before allowing his gaze to scan the room. He tried his best to be nonchalant about it but he knew he more than likely looked like a creep. It was then that a girl caught his eye: he didn’t know this blonde girl personally but he knew her face. She had been on Camila’s story, wrapping Lana in a giant bear hug. Using her as a landmark, Noah began to examine the girls in her near proximity until...bingo. Lana. “Jack,” Noah said, slapping his best friend on the shoulder. “You see that blonde girl over there? Go talk to her, will ya?” In this fashion, Noah made his rounds through his friend group; for each guy, there was a girl Noah needed him to talk to until there were only two women left standing: Lana and Camila. Like a missile locked onto its target, Noah started to make his way over to where the two were sitting in a partially exposed booth. He tried to be casual about it, taking the time to stop and chat with the few people to recognized him and cared enough to stop him for a selfie. Eventually, he came up on their table. “Ladies,” he said, his voice thick with charm as if he was smoozing a stranger in the hopes of going home with her. From the looks on their faces, this course of action wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Turning his attention to Camila, Noah’s features softened. “Cam, can I talk to Lana alone for a second?” When no one moved, Noah tried to smile. “You can grab a few drinks? On me?”
Lana: She tried to imagine what she would say – how she would react if they had run into each other during her impromptu trip to LA. Lana hadn’t gotten past the initial shock, nor did she figure a passable tactic to maneuvering away from the scenario. So when faced with reality, she hadn’t any clue what to do. Except that she was going to try her absolute hardest to continue avoiding him – hoping that her loyal comrades wouldn’t leave her on the battlefield alone. But Noah was a smart enemy; he knew how to pick off her friends, one by one. She should have figured this would happen – so when there only remained her and Camila, her eyes spoke volumes: don’t leave me alone. Nodding a silent agreement, they continued to feign ignorance. Like anything, if they ignored it long enough, it would go away... but this was Noah, and he was never going to let that happen. Crafty, cunning in his efforts, but she knew better than to fold and let him have the upper hand. It was a petty mentality, because underneath the façade, she wanted to talk to him, run at him and throw her arms around him, but her pride kept her from doing so. Fingers clenched and unclenched around her near-empty beer bottle, her shining eyes flickering between a spot ahead of her, the approaching figure of Noah, and the stronghold of Camila beside her. Lana pushed at loose hair, attempting to focus her attention on the only companion that remained at her side. “You can’t leave me, no matter what you do – you can’t –“ Her plea was cut short by a familiar voice, one she’d actively tried to avoid, but spent far too much time mooning over. His question was directed at the Brazilian beauty, and when she looked over, Lana could only widen her eyes enough to get her message across: no. When no movement was made, he calculated a new approach; one that was both genius and well-thought. A sideways glance was all it took to see that Camila was considering the offer. There was no way she would take him up on it, right? She wouldn’t do that – no amount of free booze could – oh, there she goes. Shooting an apologetic, but devious smile in their direction, she begun towards the bar. Seriously?! Mentally cursing at whatever God was laughing at her expense, Lana kept her eyes trained on the swaying crowd of club goers, rather purposeful in not acknowledging Noah’s presence, as powerful as it may be. No matter how much she wanted to speak to him... she simply couldn’t give in.
Noah: He hadn’t actually excepted tactic no. 2 to work--Camila was headstrong to a tee, not unlike a bull--but with nothing more than a knowing glance, she slipped into the massive crowd in the general direction of the bar; he could only imagine the top shelf shit she would rack up on his tab, a little extra ‘fuck you for hurting my friend’ and he couldn’t really blame her. Focusing his attention back on the girl that actually mattered, Noah glanced down, painfully aware of Lana’s counterattack: look at anyone or anything but him. Smart, decisive, oh so cold and if it hadn’t been directed at him, he would have been impressed instead of overcome with the hurt that was radiating in his chest. Okay. He was here. He had her right in front of him. Now what? The plan he’d poorly established in his mind hadn’t gone this far. Apparently it was time to go off book and wing it. Either by her design or sick coincidence, Lana was seated on the very edge of the narrow booth, allowing him absolutely no room to sit down beside her. The two foot gap between his head and hers combined with the blaring music wasn’t exactly ideal for a heart-to-heart apology so he knelt, one knee hitting the slightly sticky floor until their eyes were level. “I can’t believe you would come to LA and not tell me.” That was miles away from the real issue but it seemed a natural starting point. And besides, what was he supposed to say that he hadn’t already left on her voicemail? The atmosphere was less than ideal, true, but Noah wasn’t about to suggest that Lana go anywhere with him, even if only to better hear his apology. It was a miracle in itself that she hadn’t gotten up and walked away yet; he’s just have to make due wit with what he had. “And I think you should get your phone fixed because you apparently haven’t been getting any of my calls.” These words were accompanied by a small and tentative smile, one that could either say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I really wanna kiss you’ and, in this particular instance, it meant both. It would always mean both when it came to Lana.
Lana: Never, in the time she's known him, would she have thought possible to go so long without so much as a word to him. She was in a bind, the vines constricting every time she tried to stray further away from the path life seemed to be pushing her on – towards Noah. Always towards Noah. She hated that it was conspiring against her, holding onto him, keeping him so entirely cemented in her; every part of her ached for his presence, and as much as she wanted to just reach out to touch him... she couldn't.  Because she wasn't sure if she had forgiven him yet, if she could forgive him. Lana knew he hadn't any real option when he sauntered up, she made sure that he wouldn't be able to fit himself in beside her; she knew, if he was any closer, she might not be able to keep it up. Then... down he went, onto one knee. She eyed him carefully, being sure not to meet his gaze, completely aware of how disgusting the floor most likely was. There were so many things he could have said, to begin with – an apology would have been preferred, but what he did say happened to catch her off-guard. Pressing her lips together, she formed her own response without saying a word, eyes waning until they finally caught a glimpse of his. Her expression, meaningful, unable to vocalize the rampant thoughts running through her head. Or maybe she could put her thoughts to words, but didn't want to. Weighing up whether she should say something or not, which tipped greatly in spending the evening ignoring him when she first saw him walk in, begun to waver, the weights lifting with each passing moment. Inhaling a deep breath, she closed her eyes slowly, preparing herself to speak, but before she could – "Oh. My God. Proposal!" Her head whipped to the side of her, a tipsy bystander who somehow managed to arrive at the most importune time, where Noah was so gracefully on bended knee. Fortunately for them, most of the other people around them were either too drunk or too interested in themselves to care, and those who were looking, were eager to see what would happen next. She lifted her hands, waving them from side to side in defense, "No, no – no. We're not – he's not – this isn't a –" Unable to find the right manner in correcting him, she shook her head, bringing the palm of her head to her forehead, meeting his eyes once more, and without a word, seeing a familiar expression of amusement on his face, she burst out into laughter.
Noah: Noah liked to think-at this point in their friendship-that he had a pretty good read on Lana; he knew what each of her facial expressions meant, how she often played with her hair without even realizing it, and that those moments during rehearsals and table reads when she clicked her pen excessively meant she was excited, not nervous. And yet, in this instance, Noah searched her features and came up with nothing. Absolutely nothing. He had no idea how she felt now that he was in front of her, now that she had could no longer use her phone as a buffer between them. Her eyes, usually the most expressive thing about her, gave away nothing and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for extinguishing that light. He missed it. He missed everything about her and the friendship they’d had a mere handful of days ago; crazy how quickly things could be torn down. Her lips twitched as if words were finally going to come but before they could, someone shouted over the music and Noah’s head whipped around to find the source. A group of Barbie doll girls were looking on, pointing and giggling in his direction and it was only then that Noah could get out of his own head enough to see his current situation from an outsider’s perspective: down on one knee, head bent inward in an attempt to better hear the words she wasn’t even saying. “No-it’s not what you think-oh my god...” Embarrassment rose hot on the back of his neck for a moment before Lana burst into laughter and Noah couldn’t help but follow suit. They probably looked absolutely ridiculous and Noah silently thanked the universe for the favorable - if not unforeseen - repercussions of his actions. Laughter was a lovely ice breaker and goddam he had missed hearing that laugh. “Look,” he said once their laughter had died down. “At this point, you have two options: one, say no to this proposal, break my heart, and be the villain in the love story those ladies over there have created in their heads or two, say yes and then we go find a quiet place to really talk this shit out and let them think we’re going to screw each other’s brains out in the bathroom. Your move, LC.”
Lana: Despite it all, she hadn’t many options left in the way of avoiding him or ignoring him. This unplanned and unintended turn of events left her at a standstill, and she bested her options when some drunken idiot proclaimed Noah was proposing – there was no right way to go about things, but as it all unfolded, she considered his proposal carefully. She could spend the rest of her evening, trying to ignore him, battling a fueled desire to be around him... or she could stop being petulant, and actually speak with him. Glancing past him for a moment, searching the crowd for signs of her friends, she caught many of them looking back, expressions of curiosity and encouragement urging her to do something... anything. Finally, she returned her gaze to Noah, tentatively rising from her seat, she held her hand out for him, “Okay, let’s go screw in a bathroom stall somewhere.” Whilst her decision to go off with Noah would appear scandalous to those who didn’t know any better – much like the bystanders that were bold to assume that they were engaged. Jesus Christ, she was too young to start thinking about it. It was a familiar, welcome sensation have his hand in hers again. Something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing, until they were right in this moment. It was obvious that Lana was leading them through the crowd, towards the empty booths that resided beyond a certain area of the club – it was where people went for privacy, and in many cases... a popular hook-up spot for those who sought discretion. Not that that was what was going to happen between her and Noah – not at all. Once she was satisfied that nobody would bother them, she detached herself from her best friend, arms crossed firmly over her chest, looking him dead-set in his eyes. Her expression holding a hint of hostility, a sigh on her lips, “Well?”
Noah: Returning to a full standing position, Noah held out a hand in an effort to help Lana to her feet. The moment their hands touched, he felt that surge of electricity again, the same thing he’d felt slow dancing in her Vancouver apartment that night and his suspicions were confirmed: no amount of distance nor time would be changing how he felt about her. Noah followed her lead and allowed the tiny actress to pull him through the crowded dance floor, past his friends - none of whom give two shits what was happening with him. Once the duo ducked behind a curtain and into a private cabana-like lounge room, he released Lana’s hand, the nagging thought that he was the last person she probably wanted touching her gnawing at his heart. She wasted no time in jumping right into this new battle, one being fought face-to-face, the first of it’s kind in this war they’d crafted. Her arms crossed across her body like a shield as if she was preparing herself for the damage he was about to cause, trying to steady herself against the gale force winds that were his words. Well? Well what? What was he suppose to say? Repeat the things he’d left on her voicemail? If she’d listened to any of them, she showed no indication. “Well...I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for what happened. Sorry that I got drunk and texted you those things. It was bullshit. I was just looking for any excuse to get a reaction out of you and I used the easiest route which was that garbage about Anthony. It was a fucked up move. I know that. And I’ve spent the last two weeks hating myself for fucking everything up between us.” That seemed to be a tidy little summary of fourteen ignored voicemails. His brown eyes never left hers, flicking back and forth, desperate in his search to find even the smallest glimmer of hope for moving past this. So far? Nothing.
Lana: A heavy sensation fell over her heart – remnants of the pain she’d ruminated in for the last two weeks began to make themselves known, clawing at every bit that cared for him... clawing at every single inch of her. She knew love, and she knew what wanting someone could do to her, but there was nothing like what she felt for Noah. There was no way to describe how she felt – and for him to throw it back in her face truly cut deep. As she stood there, each word spilling from him and at her feet, waiting for her to pick them up and untie the binds that kept him at a distance. Her breathing was hollow, her eyes softening, the arms crossed slump slightly. God, she wished he didn’t make her so weak at the knees. Swallowing thick, Lana bit down on her bottom lip, her voice soft, struggling to find strength in this moment: “You hurt me, Noah.” Boy, did he hurt her. Shaking her head, she sucked in her bottom lip, “You said cruel things and then went –“ A pause, recalling the image she had in her head of Noah being with some tall and beautiful woman, “Went and slept with somebody that...” She couldn’t tell him that she had been jealous, or that she wanted him to want her. The distant pounding of the club’s music sifted through the tense air that danced between them, holding her hostage from turning around and leaving him without a word. A sigh left her lips in a hurry, and she glanced past him for a moment, unable to meet his gaze, “You hurt me, and I hated that you could hurt me like that – you... were meant to be the guy. My guy.”
Noah: Noah peered down at Lana as she spoke, one hand running nervously through his mess of wavy brown locks. “Went and slept with somebody that...” Is that what this was truly all about? Was this the true root of the reason that she was so unbelievably upset? He secretly hoped so because this issue had a very easy fix. “I didn’t sleep with that girl that night.” His statement hung in the space between them for a beat, tiny words coming together to form one giant confession. “I - look, I went back to her place and I just...I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to do it.” I couldn’t do it because she wasn’t you. I didn’t want to do it because she wasn’t you.Noah tried his damndest to allow Lana to search his eyes; hopefully they would prove to her that he was telling the truth and not just trying to talk his way out of this mess. Her final few words fell from her lips, leaving Noah stunned into silence. The guy. My guy. What?! What did that mean? Did she mean that in the same way she’d always meant it? As her guy that wasn’t actually her guy? Or did she mean it in a real way, a new way, a way that she’d never before applied to him? “I never wanted to hurt you. Never ever. Everything got so fucked up so quick. You’re the last person in the world that I would ever want to hurt, Lana. If you don’t believe anything else I say, you gotta believe that.”While she had previously done an excellent job at avoiding his gaze, he caught her, their eyes locking as if seeing each other for the very first time. “I love you, Lans. I’m sorry for hurting you.” The tension between them was still palpable but it was shifting - at least a piece of it was. He could feel his heart begin to race the way it had in the moments before his last failed attempt at revealing his feelings. It felt like he had just finished sprinting a four minute mile; if he didn’t move soon, his heart would burst. A large step toward and large hands were gripping slender shoulders, lips meeting with an utterly insatiable hunger. He pulled her against him - an instinct - as their kiss deepened. Finally, for the first time in weeks, he was able to shut his brain off and move on autopilot, finally giving into the temptation he’d stood so firmly against for so long. And it felt so damn good.
Lana: There were not enough words to explain how she felt, beneath all the hurt and anger she’d subjected herself to over the last two weeks. Fingers clamped and unwound themselves, brown eyes reading everything his mouth wasn’t saying. Leaving her breathless, from relenting on the green-eyed monster that had plagued her, to the sudden rush of liberation from hearing his truth, only allowing herself to know one side... her own. That didn’t change the fact that he had said something cruel – something he couldn’t take back, even if he tried. His apology brought on a new concoction of emotions; I love you, Lans. I’m sorry for hurting you. Her hands searched the dimly lit booth for his, taking them into hers. No hesitation, just knowing he was there, meaning every single word. Lana wished she could say that hearing him tell her he loved her – even if it wasn’t in the way she hoped... he loved her, nonetheless. She couldn’t ignore the sincerest of expressions on his face, her affection and love for him winning out over her stubbornness. With a small smile, “I believe you, Noah. And more than anything,” she paused, her shoulders lifting into a shrug, “I love you too much to pretend that I didn’t miss you, because I did.” Before anything else could be said, he caught her by surprise. His lips, met with hers. Instead of fighting it, she gave in far too willingly to him. Finding sense, without losing herself entirely to him, she pulled away, keeping him at arm’s length. “Noah,” she gasped, rather breathless. Her gaze explored his face, trying to justify why this shouldn’t be happening. Find some rationality; but there was none to be had... not right now. Fighting the better part of her judgement, “Oh, screw it.” She immediately threw her hands over his shoulders, and reignited a flame that she thought would disappear, but it was persistent. Her light was Noah wasn’t going anywhere. Lips pressing against his, everything she could... she wanted to give him. Lana’s small frame fitting easily with his.
Noah: The fact that Noah entered that roped off VIP room with a best-friend-turned-enemy and was about to leave it having not only mended their broken friendship but taken it to a whole other level was laughable. Not laughable in a ‘ha ha that’s funny’ sort of way but in a way that used laughter to express how completely unforeseen life could sometimes be. Never in a million years did the young actor think this was how his night would turn out but he couldn’t truthfully say he was mad about it. From his spot on the sleek white leather couch, he watched Lana’s figure redress in the darkness of their secluded hideout. In the aftermath of their impulsive exploit, there lingered the smallest amount of awkwardness; now that they’d made up, normalcy was meant to set back in. But they’d gone ahead and once again changed the landscape of their friendship leaving new terrain to navigate. “Well...” Noah said, breaking the quiet as he rebuttoned his jeans. “That just happened.” Using humor to break up a potential uncomfortable situation? Classic Noah. He shot Lana a soft smile, unsure if he was supposed to lean in and kiss her, despite wanting to. As happy as he was, the uncertainty of what this meant for their future held him back from fully savoring the moment. He was set to leave for Berlin in a matter of days to start filming his new movie; to say this new development came at an inopportune time was an understatement. “Any regrets?” 
Lana: Lana had flown into LA with every intention of leaving without Noah knowing a single thing – there was no plan to follow, but a clear path that didn’t include him. However, her path changed and manifested until it brought her straight to him. It was on a path that she couldn’t have predicted. What. Just. Happened?! No one could have anticipated that the evening would have unfolded the way it did – when she agreed to talk with him, it was a chance to mend what was broken between them, move on and have her friend back. Instead, she found herself losing all inhibition and letting their bodies do the talking, now shimmying back into her skirt, her sheer bralette peaking through the top of her blouse. She eyed Noah clinically. She wanted to know what was running through his mind. Her lips pressed together, worried lines appearing along her forehead. His voice drew her out of her own reveling, eyes searching for his through the dark space. With a small smile of her own, she leaned her head back against the couch. “When I said we should go screw each other in a bathroom stall, I didn’t mean it literally,” her voice soft and teasing, before her previous tentativeness returned to her features. She was tiptoeing around it. Did she have any regrets? Fuck no. She was more concerned on whether he had any regrets. Shaking her head, she gave a little smile, “No... no regrets.” She glanced down, afraid to hear what he might say. Where did they go from here? Did they simply go back to being best friends and act like this had never happened? Lana barely understood what had just transpired between them, and couldn’t imagine what could happen next. Pursing her lips, she touted from side to side. Hesitation in her voice, “Do you have any regrets?”
Noah: Noah let out a small laugh at her reference to a comment made what felt like hours ago, the tension momentarily dispersing. He would have given anything in this moment to know what she was thinking and feel how she was feeling. “So many. Aaaaall the regrets.” After pulling his dark grey shirt back onto his body, Noah found Lana’s eyes in the darkness, her slightly furrowed brow and tightly drawn lips making it clear his joke wasn’t landing. Reaching out, Noah took both her hands in his, twisting his body until he could face her head on, his left leg bent out to the side in the space between them with his knee pressed gently against the back cushion of the couch. “No. No regrets at all,” he said, reassuring her with a tight squeeze of her hands in his. “How could I possibly regret doing that? Look at you. I mean...goddam. Total smoke show.” He hoped his words would put both their minds at ease but they probably wouldn’t; life was too complicated sometimes. He released her hands before saying, “Look, I need you to know that this--” he motioned back and forth in the space between them. “Wasn’t part of my plan. I didn’t come here tonight with this being a - a goal or anything. I don’t want you thinking that it was or feeling taken advantage of or anything like that. I hope you don’t, anyway.” He swallowed hard as if trying to force back down the next part of the conversation that needed to be had. “But...I need to be honest with you. News is going to break in the next few days that I got a role in a Charlie’s Angels reboot and filming starts next week...in Berlin.” Unsure of how she would react, Noah found himself holding his breath, anxiety building beneath his skin. If their actions tonight and the timing of it all caused him to lose her again, just when he got her back, he would hate himself. “So...I don’t really know how we’re supposed to proceed from here. Or what this all means for us.”
Lana: When Lana imagined her first time with Noah, in any scenario, she never imagined it'd be in some private booth in a dark LA nightclub – but the truth of the matter was, it was almost perfect. It was infinitely better than her imagination, and by God, she hoped she wasn't holding onto some semblance of fantasy when he was right there. With a sigh, Lana held her head against his chest, shielding her face from his view.  His words... his reassurance painting a smile on a rather solemn expression. She couldn't quite find the right words. He had no regrets and that meant something. Finally, after a moment's deliberation, he uttered his next project which would have him flying halfway across the world – bringing her attention upwards, her dark eyes met his once more, searching for an answer – anything that wouldn't have her feel like that this was a last hurrah before he disappeared on her. No, that's not what was happening. He was sitting there, being open and honest. He was telling her what she deserved to hear. She couldn't forget that. "You're... going to Berlin?" Her voice is surprised, a hint of pride evident. Of course she was proud of him. She wanted him to succeed, because of who he was and the talent that coursed through his veins. Her eyes told him nothing, that is until her hands come to rest on either side of his face. A smile, small at first, growing as she spoke, "Noah – this is amazing. I am so proud of you, and –" Well, she had no clue what any of it meant for them either. This wasn't part of the plan. None of this was – neither of them knew what was going to happen, nor what wold happen next, except that it was happening, and they had to make it work. However that may be. Rubbing her thumb over his right cheek, she scrunched her face and lifted her shoulders into a small shrug. "I don't know, either, but... maybe this doesn't have to be the be-all or end-all for us. I know I love having you as my best friend, and I know that I really liked what just happened... maybe we can just... say that this happened, and we can figure it out later?"
Noah: A sense of sheer relief overcame him as Lana’s features broke from blank to pride, his own lips spreading into a wide grin as she vocalized her approval. “I’m so fucking stoked and it feels amazing to actually tell someone. It feels good to tell *you*. You were the first call I wanted to make when my agent called but...y’know...” Noah nodded slowly as she continued her thoughts. “I don’t want this to be the end for us. That’s the last thing I want. But I also don’t want anything to fuck up our friendship. I can’t lose you again, Lans. So let’s go outside, dance like psychos, and figure the other shit out later.” Lana was probably the only girl who wouldn’t make this into a huge deal; reason #1023982 why he adored this chick so goddam much. “But if **this** happens again in the not-too-far-off future, I wouldn’t be mad about it. Just fyi.” Standing, he extended a hand. “Dance with me, LC. Let’s go let everyone know World War III is officially over by grinding all over each other.” After she placed her hand in his, he looped his arm around her shoulders, anchoring their bodies together as they rejoined the rest of their fellow club-goers, their entwined hands on full display. 
1 note · View note
cow3survivor · 4 years ago
Text
Episode 1 Pt. 2: “Playing a Game With A Fresh Slate” - Jessica
Tumblr media
SAM
https://youtu.be/gmZlNel3IZM
JESSICA
We did it! We won immunity! Shout out to Sammy for making the flag that won us the advantage and Pete for doing so well in luck! Also in 6 hours or however long it has been since my last confessional, I have decided I do like Sam and we will align. So I guess I want to align with everyone except Madison... hopefully if we lose she is out first!
JABARI
So our tribe is heading to tribal and I'm very nervous because anyone can go atp. I need to make sure that isn't me.
JENNET
we flopped that :(( and i think i may be one of the reasons :( trying my best to not let anybody know im upset but as tribal council looms closer im getting worried
(a little later)
im trying not to throw anybody under the bus but i think that im voting out nash :(( they havent been super active and they havent texted me back since i texted them so it just makes sense to boot them :((
(after eating some rice)
voting out another black woman weighing heavy on me :( i hate that its coming to this
PETE
our tribe had a celebratory discord call which only consisted of like 4 or 5 people but i joined later after everyone left anyways i had a long nice chat with Sam in which i found out he hosts an in person survivor with his friends at home and hes nice ANYWAYS he apparently, like me, is cursed to forever be a premerger. So from here on out i solemnly swear to never vote for Sam during the premerge phase fuck yeah
JAKE
https://youtu.be/aVQKOOrapj0
remind me tomorrow to chill out and take a back seat on the vote lmaooo
PENNINO
Going to tribal i feel like i'm pretty much safe. I feel like that 4 minutes was a good time for the easy jigsaw, but Ethan getting 1.5 minutes is almost impossible. Assessment on my tribemates Jabari: Seems like a nice person, has talked more and has been much more active, I think she has gotten herself off of the chopping block. Jake: Still a nice person, but has lost some activity during yesterday. Possible Ally still Jennet: Nice, active enough, not a target Jones: Not very active. A bit of a target. I will most probably to vote her to be say. Lindsay: Very active, we talk to each other a lot, nice person, possible ally Mikey: Nice person, nothing much, not a target Nash: ˆˆˆ Nicole: ˆˆˆ, but not as active Silver: Active, nice person, but he doesn't respond to my dm's that much, but, still, a possible ally. I feel pretty good about this tribal honestly
JONES
https://youtu.be/2UtH-dnv0i4
SAM
https://youtu.be/lzZOK2CxsA4
MIKEY
WELL HELLO LADIES. SO SO SO SO SO! Instead of rambling Ill just get on with it. Starting off, Me and Nash REALLY freaking connected. Like they’re so fun to talk to!! BUT. They’ve been inactive. and so Pennino is now going around spreading their name, and basically everyone is saying sure why not. This SUCKS because Me and Jabari wanted to make an alliance with them and jake, but now we are faced with a problem. We both have basically decided that instead of Nash we are gonna drag in Peppino. I brought that idea up because me and him are both the youngest people in the game, and I really wanna go far with Peppino. My goal this season is to beat a bunch of adults and make them feel angry that a 15 year old outsmarted them. Its so funny! Anyways besides that, Im feeling good about that 4. I wish it wasn't Nash going home, considering the only other name out was Jones, and I woulda much rather did her, but you know that's how the cards fall I guess. A bad bitch is done with tonights confessional. A bad bitch is now gonna press submit. A bad bitch says GOODBYE ASF!
SILVER
https://youtu.be/JLwZRNesRHI
LINDSAY
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YF3mYJfYIq_2Qco8EQYq3JowyMSbin8M/view?usp=sharing
NASH 
im crying i have no idea whats going on!!! HKDHEJDHW all i know is talk to mikey and play 8 ball with nicole
(a little later)
Tumblr media
ETHAN 
Charan's Hot Confessional Questions
<a:dance:777952213808447519> 1. Give us a Trust Rankings of your tribemates! Who are you bonding with the most? Who are you bonding with the least? I trust Shane the most, and right now that’s because he is the only person that is actively strategizing. Besides that, I feel the most amicable with Jessica, lovealis, and Daisy who are wonderful people. Unfortunately both Cloud and Madison have made 0 effort with me and are generally inactive with me. <a:dance:777952213808447519> 2. Have any alliances formed on your tribe? If so, how loyal are you to these alliances? If not, do you think there are alliances out there that don't include you? There are no alliances that I’m in that have been formed, but I suspect there are some out there. Alliances without me are ok, I just need to know about them, and if there are any right now, I don’t know about them, and that’s concerning. <a:dance:777952213808447519> 3. How did your first Safari experience/run go! Did you get any closer to finding an idol? I WILL NEVER FIND ANYTHING IN A LUCK BASED SYSTEM <a:dance:777952213808447519> 4. Explain why Ryan and Charan are hotter than you A fact of life... these two slay.
LOVELIS
So things are going okay on the tribe so far! The first immunity win was rather nice & I like being able to have a bit more time to read people until were thrown into the pressure of a tribal. So far I’m definitely clicking the most with Shane and then probably Jessica but the time zones are getting in the way a little - just glad I have more time to really click with people and try and cement a place for me in this tribe. I think my contributions to the challenges have definitely helped my standing but not everybody is being super social with me so that’s a little bit of a worry - just gonna have to go ham at bothering people in private messages until they respond I suppose! 🤪
MADISON
Hi beautiful humans!!! I wish I had tea for y'all but we've won 2 challenges in a row and I really don't see the grind stopping in the foreseeable future so the tribe is kinda just vibing which gives me a little bit more time to build relationships which is a blessing and a half. I always get extremely paranoid the first week in games so the fact that I know for certain I won't be first boot is amazing!!! Tribe bonding is scheduled for tonight so hopefully by next round I'll have an alliance or 2 (maybe even the idol if I'm feeling really lucky)
JENNET
Last night really lit up a light in me. it sounds like everybody wants to work with me which is good so im now newly excited to play the game
SAMMY
okay okay okay so I would do a full out cast assessment but I literally just can not do that rn...so let's talk about who I vibe with most and who I have made like strong connections with so far! Initially, both Daisy and Jess have declared I am someone they really want to work with which is perfect for me because I want to work with them as well. I know daisy is going to be such a great competitor and I want to be on her side 100% but same with jess...im such a loyal bitch okay!! Me and Kiki really bonded over that logic puzzle so she went up in my rankings (as if she was ever low to begin with) I am not sure how well me/Pete/Nicole(opposite tribe) are gonna mesh...like I really hope me and Nicole can come together this game but I know we are just gonna end up being paranoid of each other but I love her so much. I REALLY WANTED TO BE ON A TRIBE WITH NASH AND JENNET I luv their vibes so much. okay back to my tribe tho, we won reward #mwah! I put so much effort into that because I just knew if we were to go to tribal that's an easy thing under my belt I could use as a "omg u need me for challenges". I noticed I was coming on a little too strong and presenting myself as a leader which I don't think really hurt me I think it made more people realize they should talk to me KHFBHIS. Umm okay so I love lovelis even tho he is not very active but I just know we will have each others backs for a bit. I connected well with Shane and Ethan very early and they just seem so sweet. I think if we would have went to tribal sam/lovelis/Pete could have been in danger. I would have preferred sam cause he isn't that active but he did help out some with the flag work. ANYWAYS this was not my best confessional but I do want to point out I FOUND A VOTE BLOCK SO HOLLLLLLAAAAAA! we are using this as a way to gain peoples trust so I told daisy and jess to strengthen those relationships mhmm
NASH
me pretending to be surprised that ppl wanted to vote me out first because i was kinda inactive.... i thought survivor would be different 💔
JENNET
not me being targeted for being a pretty black girl with a juicy fat ass *sad face emojis*
(a little later)
its tribal council and im shaking and im nervous, this could go horribly wrong or this could go super right
TRIBAL COUNCIL
youtube
SILVER EXIT INTERVIEW
youtube
0 notes
cursewoodrecap · 5 years ago
Text
Session 8:  Difficult Neighbors
You’d think the time in between fighting monsters would be chill, but no. We finish up in Holzog, gear up for Mornheim, and deal with the one thing worse than monsters: locals.
We get down to brass tacks with appraisin’ items and stocking up. Gral and Valeria find out what their violin strings and Eyegis do, though the rest of  us will have to find out later. Valeria makes some holy water and Shoshana brews up a couple of healing potions during our downtime.
We briefly debate whether to tell Quentin everything. We decide we’re for it; he’s working with the Cursebreakers, and they’re the organization that can best use the info we’ve found to connect the dots on how the Curse works and how to fight it.
“It’s still a hot take that the Curse had agenda, and now we know it has 4 agendas and 4 bodies, all under some powerful ward? They’ve got to know that.”
We go to the mining guild office where the Cursebreakers are. We are all visually searched. Witness Beatrice searches the ladies, which is a fairly chill affair since she can be pretty easily told to back off. Clem is fine; this is not her first strip-search or invasive interrogation, she tells us. What?
Gral has no such luck, and is being searched by Ser Quentin. “Well, sir Orc? Lose ‘em.” His hands are exceptionally cold. (Gral does want a professional to take a look, but. A little bedside manner, Q?)
While the girls are downstairs in Bea’s library, Valeria remembers: “Oh! We have thing for you!” We give her the Char Mender, and Bea totally forgets about strip searching us. Her eyes light up and she takes it to the cabinet of charred books.
We discover we have enough Char Mender to repair one book.  (We should have evolved it, maybe.)
Bea focuses on 3 rare tomes that she believes were the target of the arson. “And it was arson, unless fires start on one end of the library, and then when I go to put that one out, another fire starts on the other end.
The books we must choose between:
The Study of Fiends, a demonology study commissioned by the Church of Torme. Unfortunately, the results ended up being a little too much of a how-to for summoning demons, so they never completed the full publication run, and it’s an extremely rare book. It regards demons and how they operate, different individual demons and what offers they are likely to make, the types of deals they make with people, etc.
Songs of the Druids, a study of the druids of the Greatwood, regarding their methods and secrets. There’s a lot of legend and poetry rather than purely academic research, but it’s the closest thing anyone’s ever really made to a comprehensive collection of information about them.
The Grimscale Essays, a collection of essays on necromancy and the undead, recovered from a Draco-Aquilian necromancer’s tower. It is banned to use the knowledge in these essays, but it is a valuable collectors’ item and may offer insights on how the undead function.
Though our upcoming trek to Mornheim tempts us toward the necromancy book, we select Team Druid, to know about our potential allies. Bea sighs wistfully. “That book had some beautiful illustrations. I hope those get restored too”
“Also, If Morozov asks - he was less interested in that one, but I’m gonna say you made me do it OKAY BYEEEE”
After we’ve all got our pants on again, Ser Quentin has us tell him everything. We do, withholding nothing except our spaceship adventure. Unfortunately, he’s an Inquisitive Rogue, and nobody lies to him. We fail our deception checks hard, so Shoshana awkwardly tries to explain their adventure on a space ship without having any idea of what a space ship is. It’s pretty disjointed, but she musters the defense that talking about the Confusing Forbidden Knowledge could have been a good way to get More Cursed. Fair enough. He can tell that we’ve got nothing else to hide, anyway.
“If what you say is true, you slew these musicians, who were responsible for the mist in the valley. If so, I guess we’ll have to see what happens. In the meantime it is now vitally important that I take these notes on your travels, make my way to Hoska Castle, and report to the other Cursebreakers. There are records there I will need to consult. The ‘Key’ you mention – my order is one of seekers of knowledge. So you can understand why I’m a little concerned that this is the very instinct targeted by one of our adversaries.”
We look at the tapestry again, to see if we can figure out any clues about the Prisoners. The foreground one has its antler helmet and wolf skin cloak - clearly the entity we know as The Hunt. The other figures are indistinct; the artist didn’t bother to differentiate them in this crude medium. All we can tell is that they are bound in roots.
We show Quentin the Eyegis. “In my professional expertise, this shield...is creepy. You should go ask an expert in magical items.”
Darius is called over to look at the Mysterious Pamphlet from the glove box. “Don’t some members of your order have the ability to read all tongues?” Sure, but he didn’t take Eyes of the Rune Keeper as one of his invocations though. Ooooops. 
Daikon receives scritches! He finds a seed in Shosha’s hair from the woods, and eats it.
Valeria tells Quentin about us choosing the Druid Book for Bea, Luckily, she successfully Persuades. He sighs. “Considering what we have learned, it does make the most sense. You got this repair substance from Sturmhearst? We’ll see if we can get any more.”
Oh yeah, those guys. We warn him that being so close to the mists of the Key, what with them being seekers of knowledge, is probably Less Than Optimal.
Ser Quentin looks down his nose at us. “We have explicit instructions not to antagonize Sturmhearst, as they are a valuable ally and formidable foe. You understand that Ser Brigid has done this with the explicit intention of making us keep a close eye on them, yes?”
Oh, he has one more important question re: Sturmhearst. “You told them you were going to investigate the house? In that case, Darius, please send a request to the Baroness and her Condotierri.”
“In three days, a supply caravan will leave for Mornheim. Be there that morning and I will brief you. In the meantime the Fairgolds have interceded to have some rooms prepared at the Greencloak Inn, and I recommend you take up those rooms. Our offices are less than comfortable. If we need to reach out to you, I expect we’ll send Daikon."
After we leave the office, Clem goes back to Hammerstein and Sons to get that sword silvered. “It’ll be 150g to coat your greatsword in silver, but it’ll be hard to get it done in three days; an extra 50g will get you to the front of my queue,” says Bluma Hammerstein. 
Clara Sons, her partner (business partner? life partner? We Just Dont’ Know), interjects “Bluma does have an apprentice she’s training; perhaps she could-“
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to teach her the process. If you’re willing to let the kid work on your baby there, I can bypass the 50g.” 
“Is the kid proficient enough? I don’t wanna lose my ‘baby,’ as you call it.”
Bluma shrugs. “Ehhhhhhhhh? She’s very talented…yeah, sure, she’s a helluva hand with a whetstone, pretty good with a hammer, but this is a pretty complex process. Not gonna lie to ya: I think the kid can do it. And I’ll be there to supervise.”
Clem hands them her remaining bottle of High Elven vodka. If I give you this, will you be Extra Careful? They shake on it.
Clem also asks after a suit of splint mail. They have a Ventallan style one in the shop they could resize for her. Clara was refitting it for a Condotierri, but then he skipped out on paying, so they kept it. “It’ll cost 200g total. It’s quite a nice piece! I can get the black rook sigil off the shoulder for you.”
Clem’s about 40g short, and is thoroughly disappointed. Shoshana has come with, though, and has done all the shopping she needs to for her healing potions. And, because of the reward from Sturmhearst and Ser Quentin’s advance payment for the Mornheim expedition, still has more money in her pocket than she ever had as a poor villager.
“Here’s 50g,” she tells Clem. “Use it to not die; you can repay me by making sure I don’t die.”
Clem is ABSOLUTELY FLOORED. Why are you just giving me money??? It’s a pretty big thing for Clem. No one has ever given her money without expecting something in return???? What could Shoshana possibly mean by this huge gesture?????
Shoshana is like, no, we’re going to Mornheim, if we all die none of us can spend this cash.
“Oh, you’re going to MORNHEIM?!” Clara exclaims. “Here, why don’t I just inscribe a holy symbol of Lethe on that, free of charge.” She points to an absolutely destroyed chestpiece she has on her workbench. “That’s what’s coming back from Mornheim.”
Because Clem is an absurdly big lady, she needs a few parts taken from other pieces of armor around the shop to make it all fit. She has a Pretty Woman montage of coming out in different suits of armor for the armorsmiths and Shoshana. She ends up with kind of a hodgepodge of random armor. 
“What are your thoughts on asymmetrical shoulder pads? I’ve got one from an old elven regiment, but I’ve only got the left one.” It has a bit of filigree on it, but nothing as distinctive as a regimental insignia. Clem smiles nostalgically and says she’ll take it. 
Clara is momentarily distracted by Clem’s buff physique: “Nice shoulders.”
“Thanks, I made them myself?”
Anyway, we all agree that a clothing montage but with buff ladies in armor is The Future That Lesbians Want.
The Fairgolds want to party with us. Clem is like “are they paying?” No, so Clem’s out. 
Gral has his responsibility to perform the Death Song for his squadmates. We attend and listen to him sing their death songs to pay our respects. The DM is disappointed he doesn’t get to roll on the carousing table, but the mood is decidedly not carousing.
The next day, we wake and stretch. Clem is a little disturbed by the décor of the inn – it features elven helmets over the mantle, and the owner claims the original curtains were made of the green cloaks of elven officers. Clem was excited at first to hear about the Greencloak Inn, but less so now. The story is that rebels scared some elves out of their camp by imitating howls of wolves and owlbears, and then stole all their stuff. It’s just sort of awkward, even though Keva and Valdia are no longer enemies.
Shortly after the town gates open in the morning, a familiar cart pulls up, pulled by two large lizards. “Bjorn! Get us some rooms! Ingborg! See to the mounts! I require breakfast!”
Professor Lucinius Galvan enters the inn, looking a bit more tired and scarred than last time. “Bjorn, Ingborg, stay in the cart, you’ll scare the locals! Innkeep, I would like two rooms, one with the largest beds you have! Where might I find a library, or a local guide! Oh, perfect – wait, what do you mean there WAS a library?! OH HEY, KYR ARGENT! Bjorn, Ingborg, bring the luggage in!”
We greet Professor Galvan with open arms, mildly surprised he hasn’t been eaten. “Any luck on your expedition?”
“I found truly fascinating results! Also ghosts. I saw some skeletons, but only after Bjorn and Ingborg were done with them, so...fragments of skeletons.” 
“You’re certainly in capable hands with them,” Valeria accedes politely.
“I was able to dispatch the spectre who assaulted me. It was no match for good old Aquilian magic. The old spells still work! The good old ‘Scorpus Arcana,’ or ‘Magic Missile.’ They claim the new way’s more elegant, but is it really?”
Ooh, we ask him to tell us about the ghost.
“It was an Aquilian ghost! I attempted to ask it several questions, but it attempted to rip my face off. And truth be told, you don’t get a Ph.D. in archaeology without knowing when to abandon a line of inquiry!”
“I found the old Aquilian watchtower I was looking for! But the sigil for legion stationed here wasn’t for a standard flying legion. I’ve been trying to decipher exactly what their symbol means. I did find some records – inscriptions and pottery shards, describing how the Aquilians were working with locals. Very surprising! Especially with the Valdians’ reputation as - forgive me - rather backwards and uncooperative.”
The tower he’d found was clearly designed for both Aquilian (Aarakocra) AND terrestrial (human) soldiers and inhabitants! Elsewhere it wasn’t unheard of that they’d recruit locals, but the common narrative says that the locals were highly resistant to occupation. He’s been looking up stories about the original occupation from the perspective of the Valdians.
We tell him to go hit up Witness Beatrice if he’s looking for stories and knowledge. Also, Valeria takes the chance to talk to a proper magic practitioner. She says, “I found something interesting and, I wanted to ask you about it! Ser Quentin isn’t much for arcane artifacts, but you might be able to tell me what it does! And whether it’s going to multiply my eyes.”
“That’s a weird concern, but okay.” He examines the Eyegis. It behaves like a wizard’s familiar. One who is attuned to the shield can see through it so long as it is within a 120 foot range of the wielder. Valeria’s player LOVES it; Valeria accepts it warily.
Gral has already attached the strange violin strings to his lute and attuned (heh. TUNED), so he doesn’t need to Identify them. (He made a Deal with the Curse, the players find out, though he is not consciously aware of it.)
Valeria goes and introduces Lucinius to Bea, to make sure he doesn’t scare Bea. Bea is like “cool, a Professor!” Then she eeps and hides behind Valeria’s legs, because Valeria forgot to warn re: goliaths. Darius gives Valeria the stink eye for scaring Bea again.
Valeria makes sure to make her Holy Water out of water from the lake. Encouragingly, the Mist does not rise again during our time in Holzog.
We hang out with the Fairgolds. Flynn is a bit pompous, but likable once you get to know him. He and Fiona train every morning in the square. At night he’s busy telling stories and she’s busy drinking. There’s a portrait of them at their uncle’s inn of when they were younger. Flynn looks similar, but Fiona looks way different. Her hair is longer, and she’s not as muscled or scarred – she looks much more similar to her brother, and a lot happier. In the picture, she’s clutching a book. Shoshana, always interested in languages, learns a couple of Fiona’s hand signs over the next few days.
On Friday, we arrive at the Cursebreakers’ office early in the morning for a mission briefing. We approach to Morozov’s office. He hands us information packets, and begins his monologue:
“On my last expedition, as you may know, I was accompanied by squad of Elven veterans from an elite unit known as the Red Hand.” Clem nods intently. “They had worked with me on several other expeditions of a similar nature. Lady Aubrey von Mornheim, leader of the survivors of Mornheim, informed us of indications of some flavor of cult activity. We suspected perhaps a necromancer of some sort, but something odd happened as we neared the von Menzer family crypt, the resting place of noted mage Johann von Menzer, of Sturmhearst. Due to the patterns of undead activity, we believed this crypt was our goal.”
“We were attacked by an unusually large number of undead, working in concert. We were separated from one of their number, Sokolov.” Clem’s eyes widen as she seems to recognize the name, but she does not speak up. Quentin continues. “We were badly injured and I insisted we return to town. My companions refused to leave their comrade behind. I split with them and returned back to Mornheim to be in safety before the sun went down. They returned to Mornheim the next morning with Sokolov in tow, and immediately told me they’d no longer be in my service, effective immediately. I had to abandon the expedition.”
“Sokolov did not look especially well – not unusual for somebody trapped in that place. The strange thing is, and I mean no offense to your compatriots, Sgt. Haxan – I did use my contacts to have the Red Hand followed after they left service. I thought there was something off about them. Some left the wood, heading towards the Crownlands and old battlefields of the Ascension War. Some traveled as mercenaries, fighting for hire, never staying one place too long.”
He pulls out a map with pins stuck in it, red and black. “The red pins mark places that members of the Red Hand have stayed more than a single night. Black pins mark fresh instances of undead attacks.”
There is an obvious, recognizable correlation. “It’s not at every stop, but it always occurs about a week after they left. It’s not provable by any means; there’s no shortage of death in the Cursewood.”
Clem stands, her bulk becoming a menacing loom. “I’m sorry, are you implying that these men may have been behind these undead attacks?”
Ser Quentin is unmoved by her imposing presence. “I do not imply. I conclude, and I accuse. I am doing neither at this time. However, this obviously merits further investigation.”
“We learn nothing by sitting on our hands. Your mission is to enter the von Mentzer family crypt and find out what you can. If this is another one of these “prisoners,” I want to know everything you can find. A supply caravan leaves for mornheim tomorrow. I’ve hired the Fairgolds to help escort it – they will get the merchants there and back. You will not leave with the caravan. Stay in Mornheim and investigate as long as you feel able. You can reach out to me through any Cursebreaker outpost. Page 5 of your packet has names and addresses of those who can reach me. I will accompany you for the first leg of the journey, but part ways to go to Holska.”
“One more thing, Kyr Argent.” He hands her a sealed letter. “This is for the Lady Aubrey, please secure it among your belongings as you pack. It is a letter of introduction stating your mission and asking her to assist you.”
“Oh, and one more thing.” We hear armored boots click-clacking down the hallway. The door opens, we turn around, and the Baroness, somewhat disguised by a cloak, enters the room.
Valeria salutes.
“The Baroness would like to speak with you in private,” Quentin tells us. “Well, I’ll be here.”
The Baroness Francesca von Holzog appraises us with a calculating eye. “I take threats to Holzog very seriously.” Two knights enter behind her – one is a standard human Condotierri, while the other a is green skinned tiefling with solid red eyes and curling horns, wearing a black cape and fine armor with the Condotierri’s black rook sigil. “Now, allow me to introduce Captain Stefano Mozzeti, my cousin.”
He bows and says hello. The Baroness tells us, “He is the Captain of the Black Rook Condotierri, abd he would like to hear what you have to say as well. Ser Quentin has communicated a detailed report, and I have dispatched some of Mozzeti’s men to deal with Sturmhearst. They are an enemy I don’t enjoy making. Tell me what happened.”
Gral explains, rolling persuasion with Valeria helping. He reassures her that the musicians who were opening the portals are dead, and the mists should be gone for good.
“If a month passes and mists do not fill the valley, though they usually come once a week, we will see what we can do. The Condotierri are to search this house and burn any sheet music they find. Sturmhearst had already gone to the house, scattering like like pigeons when we kicked them out. I believe it would be unwise for them to have access to this music. If you truly have rid my barony of this threat, come to me in a month’s time and we will see if there is a reward for you.”
Captain Stefano looks Gral in the eye, as well as he can through Gral’s mask. “Orc, if those mists come back and my men die, you better be confident. If they die, and they were guarding that damned house in that damned hole, do not return to Holzog.”
“Yes, I would consider it a failure on my part,” Gral agrees.
“No, we would have….how you say, beef.”
Gral responds in his most diplomatic tone. “The Key works by getting agents. We want to stop it getting more agents in Sturmhearst, and you are doing that work to keep us safe.”
Still giving their best intimidating vibes, the Baroness and her cousin swoosh outtie. The Crown, everybody!
Clem rolls a few dice, as we return to Hammerstein and Sons later that day. 17! We find Bluma and Clara and a teenage girl. Clara has the armor, painted and dyed mainly a dark muted red-orange, with black trim, to make the cobbled-together set of armor a little more cohesive. She has drawn a little clementine tree on the pauldron. 
Bluma says “All right, Reyna, c’mon, give the drow lady her sword back.” 
The teen, hands shaking a little, gives Clem the greatsword, wrapped in cloth. “I silver-plated it for you, ma’am, Miss Bluma was watching me and I think I did a pretty good job.”
Bluma smiles. “The kid did fine. I got a dummy set up out back if you wanna test out the edge.” It’s kept its edge! Good rolls mean the trainee didn’t screw it up. At first glance, it still looks like dark elven steel. (This was NOT standard issue for the Red Hand, Clem stole it off some cultist during the war, probably.) She has to look very closely to see waves of silver worked in. There are no imperfections or nicks, and the edge is sharper since it’s freshly whetted. 
“We’ve got a patented technique here in Holzog, leads to that nice wavy pattern. Recommend us to your friends, here’s a card,” Bluma tells her.
Clem approaches the apprentice, Reyna, and tells her, “It looks perfect. You are a credit to your family and your community. I thank you.” Reyna immediately tears up. “Sorry, we shoulda warned ya,” Bluma whispers. “She’s from out in the woods. Don’t think her family made it. We haven’t been pressing. We’ve kinda taken her in.” We bid a fond goodbye to the nice lesbians, and head on out.
In the morning, we meet in town square. We’re traveling with a merchant named Feivel, his drivers and three carts. One is loaded with food, one with medicine and building supplies, and the third has smaller locked chests and has room for passengers. We get on the road! It should be 4 days of travel to Mornheim.
1st day: no incident. We stop in a small village and camp in the town square, since there’s no inn big enough. Flynn entertains some children, telling a story about fighting a “moss ogre,” and then they play moss ogre and he lets several children take him down with sticks. Fionna watches and laughs. Her laugh is a weird wheeze, like she can’t quite form the sounds.
The second day is less peaceful. Along the road, Valeria nat 20’s a perception check and hears a person running through the woods – panting breath, tearing frantically through the trees, stumbling over brush – some medium-sized humanoid running desperately. Behind her, there are sounds of heavy footsteps and ferocious growls as she bursts onto path. 
It’s a terrified-looking red-haired human teenager. “MONSTERS! HELP!” 
Valeria is ON IT, positioning her formidable self between the woods and the carts.
“They’re right behind me!” the girl says, gasping for breath as she reaches the wagons. “At least three of them! Big, with sharp teeth and long- long claws! I think there’s others with them. Bandits, maybe?”
Shoshana insight checks her, and she genuinely seems terrified. “Feivel, we got incoming!” the sorceress calls. The Fairgolds step up next to Valeria to defend the carts.
The sounds of monsters get closer, but Something Is Wrong. The sounds aren’t getting close as fast as we would have expected? And then we hear something behind us – something on the other side of the carts.
The ‘terrified’ girl has a gun to Feivel’s head, and a line of bandits step out from among the trees.
A sly-looking halfling speaks for the group: “Bonjour, madams et monsieurs, my name is Henri deCannes, and these are the Free Thieves of Valdia. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that we are robbing you today. I will not be so crass as to deny you your weapons, but you would please hand over all your valuables, if you will not mind. We will place all your weapons in this sack, and we shall put it in that tree. Then you can go get it, once we are gone.”
It’s right around here that we realize Ser Quentin is nowhere to be seen. Also his stuff is gone. Fuckin’ rogues with high Insight, amirite?
Shoshana raises her hand, like a kid in school. “Uh, we have like four knights with us?”
“Yes, that is why we are attempting to resolve this peacefully. Disarm, please.”
Shoshana places her staff primly across her knees, waiting to see what everyone else is going to do.
Flynn and Fiona are watching us, but like hell Fiona’s gonna disarm. It’s clear she’ll bust some heads first. No one else moves to give this guy their swords.
“My, so ferocious! And is that an orc with you! I must hear this story someday.” 
Gral snarks, “You don’t make a good first impression.”
“Oh? If I am befriending you, I am not robbing you. If I befriend and then rob you, I am betraying a friend, and that would be a sin.”
Clem and Val go for the Intimidate. Valeria, the minor corruption of the Hunt glistening on her fangs, hisses, “Go find someone else to rob, this one is Ours.”
Clem says, “Excuse me, Mr. ...?” 
“Henri deCannes, you may have seen my face on a wanted poster?”
“Henri, if I may offer some advice. I once tried to fight something much bigger than me, much as I am much bigger than you. Do you know what happened?” She leans in. “It nearly CRUSHED me under its foot. So I would much rather make friends.” She ends with the sort of smile that implies much, much danger.
He’s intimidated. Henri doesn’t want to fight her. But he’s not giving up, and tries to pull a few heartstrings.
“This Curse especially targets those who reside in the woods. We are especially prone to corruption. My people, the Free Thieves of Valdia - I have been called here to help them. We do not wish to be monsters, or savages taken by the curse.”
“You’d just be a different kind of savage, wouldn’t you?" growls Valeria.
“You wound me. My men, they would go to the towns, but they are not welcome there. They would leave Valdia, but that takes money. And time is running short.”
“Running short until what?”
“Until we lose our minds, madame! I want to get as many of my men out as I can.”
He asks where we’re headed. Shoshana cheekily tells him “Nunya.”
Gral speaks commandingly: “There is always another way. Forge new papers and live an honest life. You are not leading your men to safety, you are leading your men to pain. I would get out of our way now.”
Henri persists. “I will take those medicines, and nothing more. We have sick and injured. We will leave you your food and other supplies. We seek the price for a Galwan ship, or to pay for the false documents you suggest we get.”
Gral does some internal math. We have about 100g worth of medicine, but we’ve seen posters in town with this man’s face on them. His bounty is set at 400g. 
The bard proposes a solution: “I see you care very much for your men. This medicine will be yours if you come with us and turn yourself in. Surely, if you are so concerned for their welfare, you would be nobly self sacrificial enough to trade yourself for their well-being.”
Henri nods. His bandits make protestations, but he shouts “Non! The orc is correct. If I must sacrifice myself for the Free Thieves to prosper, so be it.” 
“Please hand your medicine to Anya here,” he tells the merchants. Valeria insight checks and rolls a 3, seeing that he is clearly honest about taking the bargain. 
“Dmitri, Dmitri! Those shackles of yours, please! Dmitri, a bandit, hands Val some halfling-sized shackles. Clem’s kinda disappointed that the wanted poster specified “alive,” but ah, well. 
Anya, the red-headed girl who tricked us, takes the crate of medicine and sprints back to bandits. 
“Non! Do not wait for me! Be free, free thieves of Valdia!” Henri cries, dramatically. Valeria moves to cuff him, and the shackles go straight through his arms. 
“Oh, and I am quite sorry, but...Ceci n’est pas Henri deCannes.” He vanishes, and the bandits sprint into the woods with the medicine. Trickster clerics, babyyyyy! 
Valeria is FRUSTRATED at having been tricked so easily. Gral commiserates: “I see I am a bit too trusting in my aim for diplomacy.”
WELL. That’s a story that will seem funny to us later. At least we have halfling-sized shackles now, signed on one cuff by one Henri DeCannes. Gral adds, using Minor Illusion, “is a buttface.” On the other side is a holy symbol of Guile.
So having been hustled, we hustle along. Morozov rejoins us. “You lost the medicine?”
“Yeah, we’re idiots.”
Morozov has no regrets about his vanishing act. “I couldn’t run the risk of losing the evidence from my investigations. Couldn’t let it be damaged by a stray pistol ball.”
We arrive at next town and see Wanted posters of Henri, Anya, and several bandits. The camp mood for that night is decidedly subdued.
In the morning, Ser Quentin heads off in a different direction. “Alas, this is where I must turn aside. Best of luck to you.”
“And you as well,” we tell him politely.
“I don’t need luck, but I’m not so foolish as to refuse it. Good luck in Mornheim.”
As we head out, we commiserate about how much of a dick Henri is. Flynn concurs. “No offense, but I think I’ll leave this one out of the next story. If you do go after him, though, invite me. I’ll have a few pointed comments to make,” he gripes, playing with the hilt of his sword.
On the third day of travel, we make good time towards the spot we’ll have to ford a river. Fiona scouts ahead, feeling restless. Flynn is unconcerned. “If she finds anything, just listen for- well, you’ll hear her, trust me.”
She comes back a couple of minutes later, seeming kind of put out. She shakes her head and signs rapidly to Flynn. “She says the bridge is out,” he tells us glumly.
Sure enough, the bridge is quite smashed up. What happened here?
One of the players make a joke - what, was there a troll under the bridge? And we all suddenly feel the chaotic energy in the air of on-the-spot worldbuilding.
“Well, there WAS a troll!” We turn, and there’s a friendly local yokel passin’ by, a cheerful dad-looking farmer. 
“Aw, sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya there, folks. Yee-ep, we had a troll! Fella named Trolskiv. A good one too, kept the bridge safe for us. Reasonable tolls, took payment in potataters. Real nice fella. But something got in his head, a while back. I think the ol’ Curse finally got to him, poor guy. 
“Anyhow, couple weeks ago, the Hedgehog Knight came through with his crew and put an end to all that. Had to be done. Poor Trolskiv didn’t stand a chance. Just a real shame, all round. Even more a shame that he threw the Hedgehog Knight at the bridge and broke it! 
Now, if you folks come by in the mornin’, we got a ferry comes across the river, that’ll get you across no problem. That’s what we’re doin’ these days ‘till we get the bridge fixed up. If yer gonna stay overnight, I’m sure you’re lookin’ for a place to stay. There’s an old farmhouse up the road, the family up and left a while back, tryin’ ta avoid the Curse. I’m sure no one would mind if you holed up there for the night!”
Shoshana rolls Insight: Nat 20. The guy hasn’t lied to us so far; everything he’s said has been 100% true. Yet... there’s something wrong. He’s got an agenda, somehow. Something is unsavory about this man.
We take a look at the bridge.There is in fact a sign on the bridge saying Troll, and a series of potential payment options. 5 potatoes per cart or for 3 people to cross. Nearby, the locals have constructed a modest grave for Trolskiv.
“Yep, it’s a shame,” the farmer continues, rambling like a proper small-town old boy. “One ‘a my sons went down south, there’s a troll couple work the bridge down the river. They got a youngling, ‘bout the age he’d be lookin’ to move out on his own. Once we get the bridge fixed up, we’re aimin’ on inviting him up here! It’s a good solid bridge with a nice den underneath, already all set up. We always said, it’s not a proper bridge without a troll under it. Important part of the local economy.”
Before this conversation, bridge trolls didn’t exist yet, but now the DM informs us that Shoshana knows all about bridge trolls. There’s plenty of stories about them in Valdia. Sometimes they’re bad guys, but mainly they’re responsible for guarding against bandits, maintaining the bridges, and collecting tolls from travelers passing through to help fund the town.
Valeria is so confused, because she’s used to Regular Trolls. They don’t take potatoes, they take your head off! Gral knows that the more mountain-dwelling orc clans have had skirmishes with the huge, vicious mountain trolls. Clem knows there are horrible ice trolls on the northern steppes of Keva.  They’re right there with Valeria.
(We decide that there’s definitely a Beggar Knight who’s a troll. Lost their bridge in a battle, wanders the woods as a knight errant. We name her Ser Unkig. She’s great.)
Valeria decides to get some more info from this nice fella. “We’ve been out on the road quite a bit. Usually there’s generally some sort of danger, being outside of a big town. What’s the local lay of the land?”
“Well, it was Trolskiv until about a week ago. We mostly hid in our houses when he was out and about, but he kept the other nasties away. Ended up bein’ pretty safe, unless he tore down your door. He got real big and mean at the end there.”
He leads us up a dirt path through some farmland, and points us to a small house in fairly good repair.  
“There’s the intact one. The folks livin’ there headed on out. Didn’t feel too comfortable with Trolskiv rampagin’ about, y’ understand, so they kind of up and left! Left their field, loaded up a wagon, took what they could and got out of here.”
Shoshana, her nat-20 insight still rattling around in her brain, is Very Nervous, and is nudging people and whispering that something is WRONG, she doesn’t TRUST this guy. Everyone else cannot figure out why she’s so squirrelly about some ordinary-ass dude who has been nothing but kind and pleasant.  
Valeria,to placate her, Detects Evil and detects nothing. Nothing around the farmhouse, either. There’s a barn, and enough floor room for all our people. Just walls and a roof, and what sparse wooden furniture the previous residents couldn’t carry. 
Weirdly, we’ve seen no villagers but him. We ask him about that.
“Aw, well, it’s really just me an’ my boys! Most folks live on the other side of the river, and my boys went down the river to get that troll.”
There ARE a few other houses; we could canvas around and corroborate his story. Valeria wants to trust him. Shoshana insists we knock on a couple of doors. The couple of neighbors we ask are very confused, agree with everything the farmer said, and give us literally no reason to be suspicious of anything. Everyone agrees Shoshana is probably paranoid. Shoshana is like “True, but we live in the Cursewood?!”
Still, the argument goes, “We can sleep in the farmhouse, or we can sleep outside. Outside is probably...not safer.” We settle in to the farmhouse. Shoshana insists on at least setting up a watch. She and Gral sit out on the porch, probably in cliche’d and picturesque rocking chairs, and wait.
In the moonlit darkness, the wind gently ruffles the long stalks of wheat. Especially in that one area, right over there.
Wait.
Shoshana rolls an excellent perception with her Curse-enhanced Darkvision, and picks up on a figure moving quietly through the wheat field - stalking, even, the DM would admit. The thing - no, now it’s things, plural, three of them - slip out from between the stalks and advance on the house.
Gral hits them with Faerie Fire, and Shoshana immediately blows her Horn of Silent Alarm to alert Clem. The rest of the house is woken by Clem surging out of her bedroll, screaming “AUUGH, FUCK.” Roll initiative!
(The DM lets us know that these creatures are called Blights. We disagree; they are clearly Wheat and Wheat Byproducts.)
As soon as the Faerie Fire hits, the Wheats abandon stealth and  break into dead run, charging up to hit Gral and Shoshana. One of them pushes itself down, seeming to merge into the floor, and vines burst out of the porch to make it difficult terrain. Shoshana’s claw-like fingers and Gral’s sickle make a decent harvest, but the wheat strikes back, twining long strands around them and restraining them. This gluten is intolerant! Shoshana retaliates with Burning Hands, catching them all in the flames but also wounding Gral.
Gral is informed he may Do The Thing, so long as he has his lute on his person. He manages to play some freaking weird melodies, and his body gets woobly, and he phases out of the grapple like a mirage. His strange woobliness allows him to avoid AOOs, so he slashes at them and then gets some distance.
Clem runs out on the porch but can’t quite reach the Wheats due to the viney ground. Clem has slept in armor, but Valeria naively has not. She casts shield of faith on herself as she runs, grabbing a trident, and busts out glowing onto the porch.
One of the scarecrows in the field turns and drops off its post. It looks up, its eyes glowing a terrifying red as it sprints forward on all fours. That same viney wheat has formed arms for it, with rusted metal shears as claws. It attacks Valeria, but misses.
Fiona awakens and busts on out, furious and holding both her hammers, unarmored. She crits the scarecrow, though she isn’t raging, and does 25 fucking damage, because barbarians. Flynn, right behind her, snaps his fingers and a pistol appears in his hands. He fires, and misses.
The Wheat holding Shoshana slams her brutally into the ground and begins to drag her away, back toward the wheat field. Shoshana NOPES hard, rolls good and squeezes out of its grasp.
Gral pops Shoshana’s kidnapper with a crossbow bolt and Psychic Blades for a nice chunk of damage, blowing through the thing’s chest. It crumbles to the ground, a mere pile of grain.
Clem whiffs, the wheat wafting aside in the breeze. Valeria tries to pitchfork a scarecrow with her trident, but also misses. The scarecrow turns to Fiona, and its eyes glow a demonic red. Fiona fails her save – her face freezes in fear, her muscles lock up, and she is paralyzed. Flynn is not happy about it. “FEAR NOT!” he shouts, stabbing the one fighting Clem and wreathing it in the vibrating energy of Booming Blade. “If it moves, it’ll suffer. Bring it down, Clementine!”
“I will!” she shouts. “On my turn!”
The Wheat grabs her, restraining her with amber waves of pain.
Shoshana twins her Chromatic Orb again and misses one, but the one on Gral dies in a blaze.
Gral throws a Dissonant Whispers at the last Blight. It saves, but takes some damage. Clem busts out of its wheaty clutches, its glutinous grasp. Fiona, paralyzed, gets hit twice by the scarecrow but regains her ability to act, slamming her hammers into its soft, wheaty body. Flynn takes down the last Blight with his blade. “Are there any more of them?”
Fiona makes a sound. AH YES RIGHT.
Shoshana barely hits, but it IS vulnerable to fire so it takes damage-and-a-half. Gral pins his Psychic Blades to another crossbow bolt – it’s resisting non-magic damage but psychic is another story. It dies.
“Okay, NOW I think that’s the last of them,” Flynn concedes.
Shoshana feels vindicated, but also pissy. “I feel like the farmer guy could have MENTIONED that shit!”
Valeria, meanwhile, thinks this all sounds very familiar. In Ser Balderich’s story about the Summer Palace, the rose garden sprang to life and attacked. 
Shoshana is ready to get up in the the old farmer’s grill, but his house is across that field. We don’t wanna go in the field at night. 
Flynn takes watch. “If anything moves…” he says ominously, flourishing his pistol, “…you’ll wake up.”
We get what rest we can, though no one sleeps well after that. 
In the morning, Shoshana marches over and bangs on the farmer’s door. “Hey. HEY. OPEN UP, YOU DICK, I HAVE A BONE TO PICK.” Nobody answers. She gets nosy and peeks through the windows. Empty. It looks lived-in, not abandoned, but there’s nobody there. The door is unlocked, so she goes on in to check it out. 
She rolls a good investigate check. Searching the house, she finds a couple things. Yes, it’s lived in, but relatively recently someone packed and left in a hurry. 
Second, and more importantly, she finds the floorboards all dug up in one of the interior closets. Coming out of the dirt there, and spreading out into the walls of the closet, there is a thick, sprawling growth of mushrooms and fungus. 
Shoshana immediately puts her scarf over her face and gets right the hell out of there. NOPE NOPE NOPE. MAYBE WE SHOULD BURN IT. 
Gral, outside the house, agrees. In the early days of the curse, before he went on the expedition, he saw creatures the orcs called “fungal zombies.” Fungus took took over what was near them, animated the bodies or other organic matter, and made them attack. Gral also knows that fire has historically been an excellent way to deal with THAT bullshit.”
Shoshana clears it with everybody that the plan is to burn this man’s house down. Then we burn the man’s house down. Other villagers come by to see what on earth is happening but it’s too late. They’re pretty upset and confused. But they look at how well armed we are, and decide not to question it. 
Shoshana does protest that we didn’t burn it down with the guy INSIDE, he LEFT, stop looking at us like that. And he was an EVIL MUSHROOM MAN.
One of the frightened villagers volunteers some information. “Come to think of it, the fellas who lived there, Lieb and his sons, they showed up just a bit before Trolskiv started goin’ bad. You don’t think he was involved in that?”
We don’t know. So he’s not from around here? 
“No, he’s a recent transplant from Bad Hersfeld. When Trolskiv went bad, everybody stayed in their houses and didn’t talk much. Didn’t know him all that well, but he seemed like a nice enough fella.”
We remember that the farmer, Lieb, sent his sons down the river to recruit a young bridge troll. Gral, knowing the destruction a violent troll can wreak, does not want this troll kid to be mushroomized. The Fairgolds are willing to check that out, if we finish escorting the carts to Mornheim. They’ll meet up with us there in a couple of days. 
“Fire is very effective,” Gral advises them. 
“Usually is,” says Flynn.
As they head off down the river, we can still hear them chatting. “Fiona, have you considered my idea of lighting your hammers on fire?” The hand sign she returns is one we all recognize. “Maybe I could figure out an ice thing with my blade. We could find a cool theme! You could dye your hair red-” Oh, she’s punched him. Another day in the life of the Knights Fairgold.
We take the ferry over the river without incident. It takes most of the rest of the day to reach Mornheim.
As we get close, the lush greenery of the forest along the road becomes thinner and more wiry, the trees less full of life. Animals look starved and diseased. The sound of carrion birds replaces twitter of songbirds. Everything has gone real fuckin’ Tim Burton. 
We see a sign that says Mornheim. “C’mon, the town isn’t far,” says Feivel. “We can still make it by nightfall.” We trudge ahead along the winding path. Eventually we come across rows of trees, still bearing a few apples but sickly and thin. The hills have clusters of graves on them. 
We crest a hill and see the town, a small cluster of buildings surrounded by a tall wall. In distance, we can make out several larger structures: a grand house on a high hill, and what looks like a cathedral. Heading downhill, there’s a sudden commotion inside a mausoleum to the left. 
Once it had been pleasantly situated in copse of trees; now they are cracked and broken, and we can hear shouts of battle. The door to the mausoleum is roughly wrenched open as we approach. A rotting zombie stumbles back outwards, and falls. A woman in a blue coat and tall leather hat, wielding a sharpened shovel, plants her shovel in its neck and stomps, decapitating it. “THE EXIT’S CLEAR, LET’S GO!”
There’s an answering whoosh of flame from somewhere inside the tomb. “THANKS!” the woman calls. Then she notices us: “Oh hey, Feivel. Just in time. Let’s get into town, I got your payment right here!”
A goblin in a brightly embroidered bolero jacket steps out of the mausoleum, wiping dust and soot off her slightly smoking hands. “You’re not the usual guards,” she comments.
“Nope!” Valeria agrees. “Oh, would you be lady Aubrey? Ser Quentin sent us, he said to give you this.” She hands the human woman Ser Quentin’s letter.
The woman slits it open with a thin knife. She is, in every aspect, the Graverobber from Darkest Dungeon. She carries a sturdy pick, a sharpened shovel, and a whole bunch of daggers. She reads Ser Quentin’s letter as we walk through the graveyard, casually, as if she hasn’t just run out of a tomb of exploding zombies.
“So!” she says to us. “Letter says you’re idiots. Well, it says you’re here to investigate and get to the bottom of stuff, so…idiots.”
“Honestly, knowing Ser Quentin, we’re just surprised and gratified he didn’t say it explicitly,” Shoshana quips. 
“Aw, Q’s a big softie once you get to know him,” Aubrey tells us, smiling. We’ve reached the town walls, and she shouts up to a couple of guards. “Open up!” The gate grinds open slowly, and Feivel hurriedly rushes his carts inside.
Now that we’re in safe territory, Lady Aubrey turns to inspect us properly. “Can I get your names?”
The DM confirms that Clem is no longer using her uniform, with its Red Hand insignia, as armor, so Aubrey doesn’t recognize it. “Sergeant Clementine Haxan,” she introduces herself.
“Sergeant, eh? Part of the Czar’s forces?”
“Indeed. I was stationed with the Red Hand.”
Aubrey squints at her. “I don’t know anything about the Red Hand, but last group Q brought… these folks wouldn’t wear red gloves, would they?”
“They sure do?”
Aubrey’s tone grows more hostile as she eyes Clem suspiciously. “You here to bring more trouble to my town, then? We’ve had enough of elven soldiers here.”
“Just the opposite. We’re here to help.”
“Yeah, that’s what the first ones said. The ones still here have been no end of trouble to me and mine.”
Clem is shocked. We’d thought all of the Red Hand had left Mornheim! “What do you mean, the ones still here?!”
Aubrey points outside the wall, where the undead roam. “Livin’ out there. The undead sure seem to listen to them. We’ve had to cut our expeditions short, which means I can’t pay for Mercedes and the other mercs to protect the town, or for Feivel to get supplies.
“You’re gonna go out there, fine. But if you die, do me the favor and have the courtesy to stay that way. Anyway, Aubrey von Mornheim, pleasure to make your acquaintance. Welcome to town! Hope you survive it.”
0 notes
gothify1 · 6 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
There's a lot to love about high-end makeup : the luxurious packaging; the chic look of those brand-name palettes and tubes sitting on your vanity; the trend-forward, high-quality shades and formulations. Of course, not all pricey makeup lives up to its price tag, but for makeup gurus on a budget, it can be significantly more challenging to find cheap products that re-create the high-end feel of more expensive favorites. Here at Who What Wear Beauty, we've put our makeup snobbery to good use, holding under-$20 products to the same standard as the highest-end foundations, blushes, mascaras, and more that we try. The result? This list of 15 cheap makeup products—both brand-new launches and tried-and-true classics—that cost as little as $1 apiece but feel expensive thanks to their packaging, color payoff, staying power, and shade selection. Keep scrolling to see our picks. This holy-grail foundation's studly packaging, genius doe-foot applicator, blendability, staying power, and satiny finish rival that of foundations three times as expensive. It's our associate editor Erin's go-to, and she says it earns her more compliments on her skin than any luxury alternative.  ColourPop offers some of the most trend-forward colors and formulas on the market, making it seem way pricier than it is. For example, jelly-textured makeup is having a huge moment right now, and this affordable brand is already ahead of the curve with these super-fun eye shadows, which come in cutting-edge shades like Morning Light, a corally rose gold, and Foxes, a shimmery mustard. This instant beauty-editor favorite has everything you'd want in a volumizing mascara: a dense brush that even coats each lash with product for a falsie effect that won't weigh your lashes down or mess with their curl. Also, the packaging is adorable (and very reminiscent of a different, cult-loved $24 mascara).  So many celebrity makeup artists we've talked to have named this cruelty-free, nontoxic pick as one of their all-time favorite lip products (drugstore or not) for a lovely, subtle wash of matte color. Wet n Wild's brushes go for as little as $1 each, which you would never guess from their dense yet soft synthetic bristles and chic pink-and-white color scheme. The eye shadow brushes are my personal go-tos. I find myself reaching for them over any of my pricier picks. Another makeup-artist fave is Nyx's setting powder, which blurs pores, softens fine lines, and sets and mattifies makeup much like the best high-end powders. Not to mention a tiny bit goes a very long way, so that $10 price tag is even more of a steal. Not exactly a makeup product per se, but Sonya Kashuk's incredibly stylish makeup cases deserve a shout-out. They're available at Target in so many cute styles. I'm also obsessed with this Lovely Ladies print. More jelly makeup. What can I say? I have a thing for dewy finishes. This new formulation from E.l.f. leaves the sort of glowy, luminous finish you might find in a $30 highlighter for just six bucks. Milani's iconic Baked Blush formula is one of the most popular on the market for a reason—namely, the high-quality gold packaging and almost upsettingly pretty selection of super-pigmented matte and shimmery shades, including Rose d'Oro, a taupe-pink, and Luminoso, a coral hue. Maybelline's makeup artist–beloved ColorTattoo cream shadows are now available in stick form for even easier application, and I am obsessed, especially with its Lavish Lavender shade. We always find Ardell's Wipsies in makeup artists' kits. The flexible strip and subtle flutter of the lashes render spending more than five bucks on fake lashes totally unnecessary. Arguably the best coverage for your buck comes courtesy of Revlon's concealer. The formula is blendable and long-lasting but not chalky. It's an all-natural formula that creates a super-subtle, extension-esque effect with tons of separation (read: no clumps ever). It's also super waterproof but will actually budge when you go to remove it.  Sephora Collection's easy-to-use, flexible brush tip and stay-put formula make a cat eye foolproof for just $12. This brand-new release from Physicians Formula keeps the skin matte but not scarily so—providing an orb-like glow that lasts all day. It also doesn't make your makeup pill on top, and a tiny bit goes a long way. Do you have more cheap makeup recommendations? DM them to me @amanda_montell!
0 notes
themidtowndonna-blog · 7 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Hey beautiful ladies!! 👋🏻 You better believe I enjoyed every sip of this hot cocoa while writing today’s post, sharing all of the items I picked up at @target today! Guys, I have an obsession with the Target #dollarspot and will always call it the Dollar Spot instead of #bullseyesplayground ... check out the link in my bio to see what else I got other than what is in this photo PLUS I’m sharing prices as well! I am in love with it all!! I definitely scored this time around 😍 I just wanted to thank all of you lovely ladies who have joined my Facebook group so far!! I can’t wait the see the #donnasforkindness community grow! If you haven’t joined, there is a link in my bio to the group or you can search “donnasforkindness” on FB and you shouldn’t have a problem finding it! If you do, just shoot me a DM and I’ll send you a direct link! I hope you all have a wonderful night! 💕🌟 (at New York, New York)
0 notes