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lamemaster · 2 years ago

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And the Time Stopped (Caranthir x Male Reader)

An: I wrote this as Caranthir x OC for ao3. I changed OC into the reader for Tumblr. I think it is cute and if you would like to read more of it in Caranthir x male reader format let me know.

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: He exhaled a sigh of relief when the gardens remained quiet as ever. An unnoticed smile crept on the face of the broodiest Feanorian. If anyone were to witness the scene of Morifinwe crouched in a random bush smiling at the ground, they would probably knock on the doors of the nearest healer.

One step and he would lose all the progress. A distant sane part of Carnistir’s mind wondered what the hell was he doing. Telperion’s bloom was halfway through. Sleepy elflings loitering in the streets had been long tucked in their bed by their parents. It was a mellow evening.

Yet, for the fourth son of crown prince Feanor, it was a night of adventure he never remembered asking for. He was hanging from the second highest branch of the tree right next to the window of his room that too without making the wood creak. He was sure that his face was probably flushed red by now.

Somehow, Carnistir had snuck out without alerting the other 6 menaces that resided in the same house as him. He was particularly proud of escaping from Turco, the famed hunter of Oromë.

Praying for the last time Carnistir swung his legs and let go of his hands holding the branch. He aimed to land farthest from the wall of his house to avoid alerting anyone of his plan. The Illuvatar listened to his pleas as he landed lightly on his feet closer to the other end of their garden. As soon as his feet touched the ground Carnistir rolled his body towards a bush and waited for any sign of disturbance.

He exhaled a sigh of relief when the gardens remained quiet as ever. An unnoticed smile crept on the face of the broodiest Feanorian. If anyone were to witness the scene of Morifinwe crouched in a random bush smiling at the ground, they would probably knock on the doors of the nearest healer.

His strategy had been way too good for anyone to even suspect him. Unknown to the crouching ellon, his smile turned into a frightening smirk similar to that of a dark lord marveling at their work. Ignorant of his facial expressions Carnistir reminisced about the evening when he started to work on his scheme.

“BAM!” He had slammed the front door of their house. His hair was messed up in a fashion that reassembled a bird’s nesting preference. His face was bright red with evident rage, which unknown to anyone was not really rage but the succession of quick laps he had run in the unfrequented woods.

“Carn—” Nerdanel, who was in the process of forcing Pityo into his chair to eat, stopped mid-sentence when she saw him. Carnistir felt guilt creep up his gut, but he continued his power walk to his room. This had to be flawless. This would be the building block of ensuring everything ran smoothly for the night. Mentally he apologized to his mother, if it were to be another day, he would’ve helped her with the twins but not today.

As he reached his door, he could hear Ambarussa chattering and Nerdanel shushing them. “No, you cannot go to Moryo today.” The statement was followed by collective whining to which he heard his mother replying in hushed tones.

Not known to many, there was an unchallenged rule in the Feanorian household. It was a rule respected by all the members of the family, even the rowdy Ambarussar had to uphold it, albeit reluctantly.

In a house full of artisans, it was not uncommon for one-third of the house to have a temper tantrum on a particular day. His father’s frustration with metals, Makalaure’s writer’s block, or his mother’s pilling commissions. It was bound to create tensions. So, the household of Feanor made it a rule to respect an artist’s justifiable irritation and stay out of the person’s way. After several family meetings, it was decided that in case of a rough day the person would be left alone. No one would interrupt the internal war of the fuming member.

It wasn’t surprising that Feanor, Curvo, and Carnistir were the leading participants in this exercise, which was the reason that it came to him like second nature. Thus, it was arranged that no one would be troubling him tonight.

Breaking away from his reverie Carnistir dusted his robes. He had made sure to dress in something darker for the night. After contemplating for an hour, he had settled for a dark-brown velvet tunic. He had himself embroidered its seams with gold thread. As a precautionary measure, he patted his braids, making sure nothing had come undone.

As if remembering on cue he patted his inner pockets. It would be all for nothing if he forgot the book. Much to his relief, he could feel the minute outlines of the book.

After looking around for a pair of redheads sneaking around for the last time Carnistir huffed and started making his way toward Tirion’s public library.

As he walked the relatively quiet roads of Tirion, he couldn’t help but notice the slight rustle of leaves as the wind tussled with them. He marveled at the limestone sidewalk that seemed to be painted silver with the light of Telperion. He spotted a few stubborn weeds growing in-between the paved sidewalk.

Carnistir never cared much for the poetic beauty in everything around him. He had left that to Makalaure. He much preferred to wield a needle to weave colorful threads into a scenery. His grandmother’s art had appealed the most to him and his father had been immensely proud. Feanor admired every single one of his creations and would stand looking at them for hours.

However, these days Carnistir found himself humming a familiar jolly tune, Makalaure had almost tripped when he found his younger brother mindlessly humming a love song. Carnistir found joy in helping his mother with twins, easing Maitimo’s duties. On random occasions, he would catch himself admiring the light of trees, and the chirping of the birds, Huan seemed to get extra pets from him. He even found himself laughing at the Ambarussar’s antics.

All this he had woven in a tapestry. It felt as if the world that felt like an annoyance was suddenly livelier. Something had breathed life into everything around him. The realization made the book in his coat feel so much heavier.

He had been frowning at the same fabric for the past hour. The vendor who was earlier glad that the prince had come to his shop was now exasperated. “My lord, my prince…” Carnistir ignored his whining with immaculate talent.

Had it been a normal piece he would not have cared that much but this was supposed to be a present for his father. His father, who never celebrated his begetting for the longest time. Carnistir knew it was the lingering grief of Miriel’s loss that still saddened his father.

“I’ll take this one.” Carnistir flinched at the sudden voice right next to him. He had not heard anyone approaching. Even the shopkeeper seemed stunned at the unexpected interruption.

The next moment the shopkeeper recovered and with a brilliant smile turned to the new customer. Carnistir was indignant at the interruption. He had yet to ask if the fabric was dyed with the specific dye he preferred.

Had this stranger made no sense? How could he just look at a piece of fabric from that far away and buy it? One needs to feel the cloth, inspect the dye, and look at the consistency of the threadwork in the least.

This was atrocious. Ready to educate the fool who was still standing quite a distance away Carnistir turned. “Excuse me, but ho—” and the time stopped to exist.

Out of all the children of Feanor, Carnistir was the least impulsive. He had always planned and weighed his options. Yet, one look at you, who he was about to give an earful, he felt the world turn upside down.

It was one moment that made him swoon, yearn, and forget whatever he had been doing before this. The stranger with hair of Laurelin’s color and eyes of the color of a lake on a bright day looked back at him equally surprised.

Carnistir, the harshest and quickest to anger out of all his brothers, fell in love at first sight. Almost quicker than the red that instantly colored his face.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion male reader #caranthir #carnistir #feanorians #sons of feanor #tolkein #tolkien elves #noldor elves #noldor #male reader #caranthir x male reader #silmarillion x reader #romance #middle earth #love at first sight #fluff #crack fic

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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 2 years ago

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So far, it's just I Am Jack's Complete Lack of Surprise (main blog) and The Adventures of the Creeping Bam (original writing-based sideblog). But there may be more coming ...

#side blogs #tumblr polls

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glancescreen · 20 days ago

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Ready for a Movie Marathon? Check Out These 5 English Dubbed Movies!

Are you tired of missing out on amazing foreign films because of the language barrier? Say goodbye to squinting at subtitles and hello to the great world of English dubbed movies! We've got five gems from DOD (Dimension on Demand), that'll blow your mind!

1. "Blade of the Rose": Martial Arts Madness

What if women ruled the world, and men were the underdogs? Sounds interesting, right? That's what you'll get in this English dubbed movie!

Here’s the Scoop:

An evil queen running the show? Check!

A magical sword that could change everything? You bet!

Two ordinary guys with warrior women. Whoa!

Hold on! There's more! This English dubbed movie stars martial arts legends- Donnie Yen, Jackie Chan & Jaycee Chan. Plot so surreal, you'll wonder if they got some superpowers!

Will our team save the day and defeat the queen? The only way to know is to watch “Blade of the Rose” and prepare to be amazed.

2. “Deep Sea Mutant Snake”: Sun, Sea & Serpents

Think cruise ships are boring? Wait till snakes enter the game. “Deep Sea Mutant Snake” is one of those English dubbed movies that takes your worst cruise ship nightmare and cranks it up to eleven.

Imagine this:

Our hero Qin Yu gets on a cruise ship to solve a death mystery. Sounds pretty normal for any dude, right?

But wait. BAM! Mutant terror snakes drive up to the ship!

And if that is not enough, there is an island with hidden secrets.

Let’s not just watch this English dubbed movie, but also join Qin to unravel the dark mysteries of Cass corporation.

3. "Peach Blossom Origin": Love Story or Sci-Fi Adventure?

Get ready to fall in love out of this world! "Peach Blossom Origin" is an English dubbed movie which is all about the power of love and time travel too!

Check out the crazy plot of this English dubbed movie:

There is a magical map. It can change the course of destiny.

Our lovebirds are falling in love across time!

Their choices might change the whole world.

And then what happens? Well, It's time for you to give this English dubbed movie a watch! It's a feast for the eyes and the heart. Can love conquer all-including time?

"Snake 2": Survival On A Prehistoric Island

"Snake 2," is an English dubbed movie that will make you think twice about island getaways. This adventure is packed with prehistoric terror and modern survival instincts.

Why "Snake 2" will creep into your nightmares:

Paradise Lost: A seemingly idyllic island turns into a survival battleground.

Jurassic Panic: Encounter a giant snake and jumpscares

Science Gone Wild: Discover the chilling secrets of an island where evolution went haywire.

A group of friends end up on an island lost to time. Forget tropical drinks—it's a fight for survival against dangerous predators in this thrilling English dubbed movie.

"Tomb Raiders": A Treasure Hunt with Deadly Stakes

"Tomb Raiders" (also known as "Golden Spider City") is an English dubbed movie that weaves together greed, ancient curses, and pulse-pounding action.

Embark on a perilous journey featuring:

A master thief forced out of retirement for one last job

The legendary Golden Spider City, where danger lurks around every corner

An unlikely alliance with a young prodigy that could be the key to survival

Join Sima Cong as he races against time, outwits devious traps, and faces off against rival treasure hunters. What secrets lie hidden in the heart of the Golden Spider City? Time to find out by watching this English dubbed movie!

Wrapping Up.

Will you stick to your boring old movie routine, or dive into the thrilling universe of English dubbed movies on DOD? Remember, once you start, there's no going back. Are you brave enough to take the plunge into these English dubbed movies?

Your couch is waiting, your popcorn is popped, and these English dubbed movies are ready to transport you to a whole new universe. The exciting journey of top English dubbed movies is just a play button away!

#dubbed movies

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definitelynotsuzumi · 3 years ago

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Zapped to Another World [Chapter 5]

New updates! Hope you guys enjoy!

[Masterlist]

“So…She is friends with the Fatui and the strangely attired gentleman.”

The wax sealed envelope sat in the girl’s bag as she held on to a basket of herbs, with her umbrella in the other hand.

With the city busy preparing for the festival, she was able to sneak in under the pretext of selling her herbs. There was a surprising amount of people who needed stomach medicine and she was not one to turn down free mora.

Meeting those familiar blue eyes, Huirong bowed her head politely.

“Is that you, Huirong?” She jumped up with a grin. She recognized the bubbly chef anywhere.

“Miss Xiangling! What an unexpected surprise!”

“I knew it! You always carry around that umbrella of yours! You’re selling herbs, right? Do you have those Jueyun Chillis from the mountains? I want to recreate my masterpiece from Mondstadt!” The apothecarist was quick to shake her head.

“Those are extremely dangerous and hard to get, Miss. It is dangerous even for Vision-bearers to collect such rare spices.” Huirong gently chided. Her hand went subconsciously towards her Vision, which was artfully woven into an intricate choker.

“Awww….How about berries and sunsettias? I need a lot of them for my new dish!” Xiangling grinned in excitement.

Huirong blinked in surprise. She was usually used to extremely special and specific orders from the chef, like lotus heads from the fastest moving rivers it could grow in, or those Jueyun Chillis, or even Cryo slime condensate from the peaks of Dragonspine.

“Well, that, I have plenty. But whatever do you need them for?” Handing over a heavy bag of the fruits, Huirong gladly welcomed the heaviness of the mora bag Xiangling handed over.

“Stay around! I’ll dish you up a plate!”

Tartaglia frowned as his eyes found Huirong. While he has met the lady on more savoury occasions, he knew of her slinky nature as a private detective for hire.

‘What is going on here?’ His frown deepened when he realized her gaze…was on you.

Something was not adding up and he could feel it.

“Phew, never knew daily commissions are that tiring.” You gaped as you sat down at last at an abandoned treasure hoarder’s camp. You had to hold back your power in fear of Tartaglia figuring you out, which was more energy draining than you thought.

“Are you not part of the Adventurer Guild?” Aether asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, my father never let me join. He said it was not fit for a lady like me…And that I was extremely weak…” You were uncomfortable at how long Tartaglia was lingering with the group.

Paimon’s face instantly morphed into one of pity before turning confident.

“Wow…You don’t have any combat experience, yet you did so well..! I’m sure you will beat your dad!” She gushed.

“Never knew beginner’s luck would stick by you that long.” Tartaglia laughed.

You bristled at his jab in your inexperience.

You got up right away, slamming your hand beside his shoulder and cornering him against the shelf of rock he was leaning back against. His warm breath fanned out across your face as you taunted him.

“Oh? Care to coach me, Mister Harbinger?”

“Wow, feisty. I wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to educate a beginner like you.” A confident smirk stretched his lips. Was it your imagination, or did his eyes turn half-lidded in that moment?

“Both of you, quit flirting!” Paimon complained as you flushed. Stumbling back and away, you sat back down on your wooden bench. Tartaglia had to kill the urge to smile as you sat there in awkward silence.

How cute.

No, he had to focus. Why was that private detective investigating you? While being with you for majority of the day had helped in digging a lot of information about your supposed background, he was clueless on so many things as well.

Being a Harbinger is tough, he sighed to himself as he remembered the countless meetings he would need to conduct later in the day. He couldn’t be around you all the time.

“I’ll…Need to head to the bank. For work. Be safe, alright?” He affectionately ruffled Aether’s hair. Aether seemed bothered by his action as he seemed to pout in response.

“Oh, and…(Y/N)? I suggest for you to be careful. Even rocks may have ears.”

Without waiting for a response, he stalked away, leaving Aether and Paimon uneasy.

“Why? What’s wrong?” You knew the answer, but you had to play your part as the clueless little girl from Mondstadt.

“Well…The last time he said that to us, we ended up battling each other…Nearly to death. I think you should stick with us after all, after what he said.” Aether cautiously answered.

“Death?!”

Your shocked response earned you a comforting pat on the head from Aether and reassuring words from Paimon. You hated how good you were getting with lies.

“If he tries anything, we’ll beat him up! Bam Bam Boom!” Paimon shadowboxed the air enthusiastically, earning giggles from you while Aether sighed.

“But…I’m doing most of the fighting…”

After a delightful meal with Xiangling and her interesting new dish that was inspired by the stranger, Huirong found herself face to face with the Harbinger.

“What are you doing here?”

Huirong gave herself a second to compose herself, making her face as expressionless as she could.

“I can say the same for you, Mr Tartaglia.” Huirong replied as she opened her umbrella to shield herself from the unrelenting rays of the late afternoon sun.

“Weren’t you supposed to be reassigned to Shneznaya?” Raising an eyebrow as Tartaglia’s eyes narrowed.

Tartaglia had no idea how the young girl was getting her information, but it was too accurate for it to be from Liyue’s grapevine.

“You have…Ah, extracted the Geo Archon’s Gnosis. Yet, what is the delay? Don’t you want to find Teucer?”

“Don’t you dare speak his name.” Tartaglia’s eyes flashed in anger. His hands immediately clenched into fists.

“How can I not? He is such a sweet, young boy. I wonder what he would say if he finds out that his precious, perfect big brother is a part of the murderous Fatui Harbingers.” Huirong gave a bemused chuckle, allowing a hint of maliciousness to creep into her voice.

She could hear Tartaglia take a deep, calming breath. She could also see his tight fists relax.

“What…Do you want?” He could not meet her eyes as he cast his eyes downwards.

“It’s honestly simple, my dear friend.” The umbrella cast an ominous shadow on the young girl’s face as she smiled.

“Don’t get in my way.”

#Genshin #genshin impact #emergency food #paimon is emergency food #Childe #childe x reader #genshin tartagalia #tartagalia x reader #aether x reader #oc #genshin oc

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mrdrhenwardhykle · 3 years ago

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So, I had this thought process

I've been thinking a lot about that Adam Sandler movie "Pixels", and I think I just wrote a summarized alternate plot for it in my head and I need to write it down.

Okay;

Let's start by brainstorming on writing better and more relatable protagonists. For many, this movie is very hard to watch because it almost feels like a bunch of middle-aged guy's writing in nice-guy self inserts of themselves to feel better about whatever mid-life crisis they're having. And maybe this wouldn't be too bad if their characters were just a bit more than "middle aged creep who lives in his mom's basement is secretly a romantic warrior when put in the right scenario".

At least for me, it's very hard to relate to that kind of protagonist; given how that character is usually the most developed out of all the characters in this type movie. I often find that it's hard to relate to nerdy nice guy characters who often get away with the lack of likeable qualities just because "life should have treated them better". It comes off more as a pity-party more than anything, and their unmotivated dynamic with the "out of their league" love interest, who always comes off as nothing more than a trophy and\or act as an excuse to get the climax rolling in the last 20 minutes after getting captured by the big bad.

So then, how would I write an 80's nostalgia themed adventure movie? What, say, would you think would be a practical way to write the main cast in a way that audiences new and old can relate? Easy; If your intention is to give your entire audience a wave of nostalgia, but to still keep it relatable, then why not make your main cast kids? (credit to Black Nerd Comedy for that idea) I would probably suggest between the age of 12 and 16, and maybe with the occasional big brother\sister type characters and some of their friends . Kids often have a ton of freedom, a large imagination, basic priorities, and a lot less worries than adults. Just about anyone should be able to relate to that, since everybody either was or is a kid at some point of time. And I'm not saying that you can't write for\relate to older protagonists, but you don't want to alienate your audience, especially when making something that might catch the eye of a younger crowd.

Not to mention that ever since the 80's, kids have always been a major player by the impact of technology. For some reason though, the plot of Pixels doesn't really have to do with technology. There's guns and contraptions that are specifically made to destroy the pixels, but it doesn't really go much father than that with the tech. The plot more focuses on going on the "alien invasion" route (which I would think would be more 60's sci-fi based than 80's, which was more experimental in cosmic horror with its alien media)(not including Space Invaders. Shush. That does not count). Honestly, I think 80's nostalgia can be replaced with just about anything when it comes to a "shape-shifting aliens who mimic earthly cultures" plot. It's very basic, yet it doesn't really fit in with the theme of arcade games. It just comes off as a poor excuse for pandering to 80's kids, instead of using that element to bring up interesting concepts and world-exploring in this universe.

So I have two solutions for this, either;

A. Do not do a time jump, and keep the story in the 80's. Make it an alternate universe where different forms of consoles and computers are being developed. Maybe the adult characters are very unfamiliar with these changes, but allowing for the kid characters to have more of an advantage because that stuff would be more relevant to them. Because this was before a time where kids often thought about becoming programmers, it will also work as a disadvantage to the kids because they won't have an excuse to suddenly know how the opposing side works.

Or B. It takes place in a modern era, with Virtual reality, game consoles, and laptops, but it doesn't overly modernize itself with teens on phones, saying outdated things like "lemmie just take a selfie" saying "hashtag" out loud, or any junk like that (Because guess what? Teens and kids don't usually act like that). Maybe make the environment time neutral by making it a mix between the 2010's, 2000's, 1990's, and 1980's. I don't really think it's relevant enough to work in a present setting.

And lastly, let's talk about the big bad of the movie.

Really in Pixels, it's more of a self-struggle either projected upon others, or manifested into it's own being for the protagonist to succeed. There's not really a lot of leg space for anyone else to develop other than the main character (and perhaps something happens occasionally to the comedic reliefs\mascot characters). I imagine maybe this version doesn't have just one central character\plot, kind of like Stranger Things. However, unlike Stranger Things, I would also like a compelling and intriguing villain. Sadly, Pixels doesn't really have that; i has Donkey Kong, but he's nothing more than an alien catering to the protagonist's inner struggles (and nostalgia). There's nothing really more to DK other than that, so there's not a lot of difference between him and any of his previous minions.

And there's nothing really compelling about DK; because at least in canon, he's just a scared circus animal. There's not a lot of reasoning behind his actions other than to just invade. It's basic alien stuff like I said before, it can basically be replaced with some other theme than arcade games.

So what would be a compelling antagonist? Foils to the main group of characters (such as an older school bully, or maybe twisted programmers), create conflict, but if we're keeping the theme of attack of the machines and videogame characters, there has to be a bigger bad than that.

Oh! If only there was an already established villain-coded, tech-based, 80's icon with the ability to control almost all technology!

....

Trust me, I'm onto something!

Max Headroom was always presented as an egotistical talking head. He had multiple shows in the 1980's, as well as guest starred on multiple shows. Perhaps Max survives off of his viewers, and constantly strives to expand his audience. Max does not tend to care about other's well beings, and just wishes to use them as a way to gain publicity for his shows. Max also has a tendency to step over whoever he needs to to gain popularity, including his own film crew.

Max also has multiple canon abilities such as:

Being able to transfer to any screen (including arcade games)

See and interact with the people watching him

Control more than one screen

Interact with himself from one screen to another (multitask)

Turn on and off lights (and likely other outlets as well)

Manipulate the visuals of the screen that he's controlling

All of these abilities can be expanded and explored enough to set him up as a powerful and unpredictable villain.

I've also came up with a couple motives as well;

A. If this is in a modern era, Max could be suffering from a long hiatus since he hasn't been that active since the 80's; causing Max to seek as much attention to thrive off of as possible. To do this, Max hijacks as many outlets as possible to air his show. He might also use this as a way to repel audiences away from all other media; making it easier to turn to him for entertainment.

B. This takes place in an alternate universe where Max Headroom became more popular than it originally was. He starts taking over half of ads and television shows on air, getting more power hungry with each channel he takes. However, in his media take-over, ratings take a slight drop due to uninterested children who have turned to other outlets like toys, videogames, and arcades. This inspires Max to take a full takeover over everything electrical, causing a full invasion of all things electrical.

(I also forgot to mention that Max very likely hates children, and has canonly protested the execution of all of them)

Bam! And there you have it. A slightly more efficient plot for Pixels.

This was rotting in my head for a while and I wanted to let it out. Sorry for the ramble.

#pixels #plot ideas #movie ideas #1980s nostalgia #rambeling #80s nostalgia #ramble #max headroom #pixels inspired #goonies inspired #tropes #arcades #pixels 2015 #goonies #adam sandler #writing rant #rant

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chibioomi · 4 years ago

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𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐩𝐭 𝟐

￫ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞 ! : prohero!bakugou x prohero!reader

summary: he’s used to grabbing the attention from everyone in the room, mainly due to his loud persona. everyone seems to know who is but her, and that bothers him. he makes it his mission to get her to notice him.

tags: fluff, lil bit of romance, lots of crack

───────────── .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗

y/n was staring at bakugou in pure confusion. “do you remember me now?” what did he mean by that? was he someone she was supposed to remember?

blinking at him a few times, your eyebrows furrowed together. you were racking your brain for the many possibilities you would know the strange man that propelled himself into the air to get your attention. was he someone you went on a date with at one point? or someone you had saved?

“i’m sorry but . . . no, i don’t?” a nervous laugh escaped your lips as you gave him half a smile, rubbing your neck. he held an aura that was so familiar yet so foreign.

the blonde man just looked blankly at you. you could’ve sworn you saw a look of disappointment on his face, but it disappeared just as quick as it came, if it was even there. it almost made you feel kinda bad for not knowing who he was. almost.

“well, if you don’t mind, i’m gonna go-” your finger pointed to the sky as you prepared to take off, but the man held his hand out, signaling for you to stop.

“we went to u.a. together. you were always hanging with todoroki and deku. i don’t really know how you would constantly forget where our class was, but you always did, without fail. one day you asked mina to teach you how to do this crazy stupid dance move and you knocked over two lamps in the dorms with your wings, and aizawa-sensei punished you to a week of cleaning. i’m not sure how, but you were always the only person that never even looked my way. and i thought i liked it at first, but anytime i tried to actually talk to you, your dumbass would act like i was some complete stranger.”

as he listed off a bunch of different random events from your high school years that you vaguely remembered, it creeped you out at first. how did he know all of this about you?

narrowing your eyes at him, your head tilted to the side. this was what you believed to be your first time actually getting a good look at him. his hair was full and spiked, and it looked like it took him either hours or no time at all to do it. i wonder if it’s softer than it looks . . . his red eyes held a different type of understanding to them. as if he’d went through a lot, even at his young age. which would make sense, if he said he was in the same class as her in high school.

that’s when it clicked. you were thinking about the few times she hung out with mina and her group of friends. there was always that one angry person at them that was constantly yelling about something, most of it you would usually drown out. you weren’t sure why he was so uptight about everything, and if his throat ever hurt from shouting all of the time.

but the name wasn’t coming to you.

“i think- it’s- oh ! bakubro, right ?” what a strange name.

“huh ?! no !”

“no ?” you weren’t going to continue to guess, not really fond of hearing him shout too much. “look, i’m sorry i forgot you, or whatever. i’ve never really been good at remembering things. i hit my head a lot when i was learning to fly,” raising your index finger, you tapped your temple a few times. “still do, sometimes. buildings have it out for me, i swear ! i don’t even see them half of the time, then bam ! i’ve hit a window !” he didn’t look all that entertained at your explanation, but that’s all you could give him as some sort of explanation. “but um . . . i’m l/n y/n,” you offered your hand out to him. he seemed so keen on grabbing your attention, the least you could do was entertain him for a little.

“bakugou katsuki.” the name was so familiar to you. you could clearly hear aizawa-sensai saying it as if you were still in his class. “a lot of people used to call me kacchan.”

“you’re kacchan ?!” eyes widening, you took a step back from him. midoriya still talked about him whenever you two got together, and even though all of the stories he’d told you about them from their middle school years, you’d expected a different demeanor from bakugou. even from the very limited encounters you could remember.

he was always so loud, crude, and oh so very rude.

but here he was. he had put his life in danger just to get you to remember his name.

“well, kacchan, i promise i’m not gonna forget you any time soon.”

───────────── .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗

four months had passed, and you and bakugou spent almost every weekend together. even during work throughout the week, you’d swoop down to his patrolling area to grab lunch or just walk around with him. you honestly never thought you’d find yourself calling the man you couldn’t remember for the life of you, your best friend.

bakugou grew fairly comfortable around you. he quickly caught on, noticing that you didn’t like when he yelled, so whenever you were around him, even when he was out with the bakusquad, he’d dial his tone down until he saw that you were no longer flinching at the sound of his voice. you’d later explain that you never really liked when someone would yell at you, or anyone else in that matter. as a kid, when you weren’t aware that your wings took up more space in a room, you would knock down different things at home and at school, which would cause your parents and teachers to yell and scold you. and the protective person in you didn’t want anyone else to feel so belittled.

he also began to learn the little things about you. he learned what your favorite color was, your go-to meal after rather hard days of patrolling, that the gold on your wings was in fact something you were born with, and how ditzy you really were on a daily basis [ which he found rather adorable, but he wasn’t going to admit outloud ]

and today was one of those days in which you never failed to remind him how much of a clutz you are.

your landing wasn’t the prettiest one, your heels skidding against the pavement, stopping a few feet in front of bakugou, when you were ideally aiming for just behind him. once your feet were planted on the ground, you turned to face him with a small pout etching the features of your face, your wings drooping low, hinting at the fact that you were upset about something. groaning quietly, walked over to you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“what happened this time?” he asked, knowing you had some stupid story to explain the look on your face.

“what do you mean this- yanno what, nevermind. i got this big ass bruise on my forehead because some people don’t take into account the fact that there’s flying heroes !” prodding at the darkened skin, she then winced at the feeling.

“you ran into another building, didn’t you ?”

“no ! maybe . . . okay, what if i did ? what does the glass gotta be so clear for ?” throwing her hands in the air, her wings lifted also, causing her to get glares from the people passing by that she hit. muttering a few sorries, bakugou started to question how she even became a top hero, and how she even managed to go from five to four in the few months he’d known her. sure, she was popular with the kids, and people found how dumb she was just an act for interviews. if only people really knew . . .

“you outta be more careful, dumbass.”

“blah, blah, blah, dumbass this, dumbass that. that’s all that ever comes out of your mouth when i tell you this stuff ! it’s like you don’t care. you’re a sadist, aren’t ya ? you like seeing me in pain, huh ?”

“y/n, please shut up.”

“just admit it !”

“no.”

“oi, you’re no fun.” narrowing your eyes at bakugou, you then crossed your arms over your chest. “grab lunch by yourself.”

“you’re such a big baby,” grabbing your forearm, bakugou started to drag you down the sidewalk, to your dismay, along with all of the bystanders that were hit by your wings. finally tearing your arm away from the pro hero, you started to walk along with him, knowing if you tried to make a break for it, it would cause a scene since he would chase after you.

once you made it to the ramen shop you both frequented, you took your usual seats at a booth in the far corner. it gave a nice view of the city outside, and it was close enough to one of the exits, so that if something went down, you’d easily be able to exit the restaurant.

after ordering, you both fell into a silence. usually he’d be ranting on about something his friends did the day prior, or some dumb “extras”, and in return you’d catch him up on the adventures of the dekusquad or whatever interesting thing that happened or what you saw on patrol. and at first, you found it comfortable, until each time you glanced up at him, he’d suddenly redirect his attention somewhere else, and vice versa.

when did i get so nervous around him ?

“stop staring, you weirdo,” you finally said, and that caused him to laugh. finally, something to break the growing tension.

“i could say the same to you,” squinting at his statement, you rested your chin in the palm of your hand.

“what’s on your mind, bakuboo ?”

“how many times have i told you not to call me that ?” instead of answering his question, you shrugged your shoulders. thinking of your question, he had to turn his head to hide the blush that was growing on his cheeks. you. you were on his mind, and have been a lot, lately. ever since you two became closer, you’ve plagued his thoughts and sometimes even dreams. it almost felt like you were taunting him.

“you know, you sure do talk about that y/n a lot,” kirishima stated one night he, bakugou, denki, and sero were hanging out. y/n had offered to take mina out clubbing so the boys could have some ‘time to themselves’.

“no i don’t, shut up, shitty hair.” plopping down on the couch of his apartment, he flipped on the movie they’d all picked out.

“it use to be about how she never notices you, and now it’s all lovey-dovey.” denki added, settling into his spot in front of the couch, popping a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth. the statement earned a hit to the back of head from bakugou.

“maybe he likes her,” sero made sure he was a good distance from his explosive friend when he added his comment, but it didn’t save him from his glare.

it wasn’t even a statement bakugou could bring himself to reject. why would he lie about it ? he did like you, and it was an annoying feeling. he wished he didn’t, that would’ve made his life so much easier, especially when he was the one that would go out and help y/n pick out dresses for the different dates she’d go on. none of the men ever [ gladly ] lasted long. they’d make it up to date two before either y/n declined the offer for the next one or they’d do something stupid, and she’d bluntly say you’d never want to see them again [ that she learned from bakugou ]

kirishima could see the storm swirling inside of his friend’s head, and he leaned over to nudge his side. “why don’t you tell her ? what’s the worse that could happen ?”

“you’re thinking about me ?” y/n’s eyebrows raised in surprise as you tilted your head to the side.

“huh ?” furrowing his eyebrows out of confusion, bakugou turned to look at you.

“i asked what you were thinking about, and you went ‘you’.”

did he really say that out-loud ?

“oh, um, well-”

“well, i was thinking about you, too, bakuboo.” you interrupted with a grin, reaching both of your hands out to grab one of his. “i know this is gonna be corny and you better not make a big deal out of this, and you know, if you don’t feel the same way, we’ll just act like it never happened. but i do like you a lot, katsuki. a lot more than, yanno, just being friends.”

at first, bakugou didn’t know what to say. he wasn’t expecting a confession, honestly. he’d always thought he’d be the first one to say something. but it makes sense, with how fast your thoughts come, and how scattered they are. the cold wind hitting his hand from where yours were previously grabbing his pulled him out of his thoughts. your sudden burst of confidence had evidently died away, the way your wings folded around yourself, something he realized you did when you were nervous, embarrassed, or felt unsafe or uncomfortable. he assumed you were a bundle of nerves at this point, with his prolonged silence.

“i like you, too, dumbass.” he finally replied, reaching back out to take your hand.

“really ?” his words pulled your attention away from the edge of a napkin you were picking at.

“i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t mean it.”

“you say a lot of things you don’t mean !”

“no i don’t.”

“yes you do ! like when you said that you hated deku.” bakugou snorted, taking a sip from his water.

“i do hate deku.”

“nah, i think you’re in love with him. always picking fights and whatnot. you just want his attention.”

“i’ll start picking fights with you more often, then.”

“. . . no thank you.”

A/N: i’m supposed to be doing my assignments for business but :D i got bored and this was calling to me. i wasn’t gonna post until tomorrow but i’m kinda excited, imma start on my todoroki fic soon and work on a bunch of haikyuu headcanons. anyways, i hope you guys liked this one, i might make it a mini series just because i really like the idea of bakugou with someone a little ditzy and i have no idea why

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step-on-me-khun · 4 years ago

Note

Helloooo 🙈💕 How is it going for you? Thank you for fulfilling my latest request; I literally screamed, that's the best thing I saw first thing in the morning. This request might be sappy at best but may I request for Barista!Bam x reader? I prefer it to be fluffy and sfw! Thank you so much for your writing always (also could you please tag me on bleach and aot requests too if you don't mind? I hope you have a good day!)

Hello, everything’s going good thank you. And you're very welcome.

SFW

Word Count:

There was nothing that was going on, no work, no chores, nothing. So you decided to wander around the town for a while, your eyes looking at everything around you.

At the end of a row of shops, there was a small alleyway, a small cafe sat at the end of it.

It really didn't stand out too much, and, from what you could see, there was only a small number of people sat in there.

You had never originally noticed anything when you walked past before, so you felt like you had to walk down to it, to be just a little bit adventurous.

It was small and quaint, a few small flower pots were littered on the window sill. It wasn't a big café only six small, round tables fit into it.

Walking inside, it felt homely. Your nose captured the smell of sugar and coffee as it brewed.

Your eyes wandered around, seeing everything, the small details in the wallpaper, the carvings on the edges of the round tables. But you could feel it, you were being watched. Normally, anyone would be creeped out by it, but it was different.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" A soft voice came from behind the counter. You were swiftly snapped out of your thoughts by this person's voice.

You were met with the barista's eyes, gold, you had never seen someone with eyes this captivating before. It was hard to look away from him.

"Are you okay?" The voice asks, again, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Yes, uh, I'm sorry about that, I just, uh," you say, embarrassed.

"You don't need to apologize,"

His smile was as soft as his voice, it made his face glow. Damn, was he attractive? Everything felt like it was all just a setup, but it wasn't, it was all real.

You struggled thinking of anything to get, your mind completely shutting down after witnessing his smile.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks.

It was a struggle, but you wanted to withstand it, it wasn't very often that you saw a guy as pretty as this.

"I don't know," you say anxiously, "surprise me," you try to smile at him.

---

Your embarrassment slowly shifted, and your awkward attempts at starting a conversation did, too. The calm feeling inside the shop helped you become more comfortable, and it was getting easier to talk to him.

He sits down in front of you at one of the round tables, your fingers fiddling with the cup in front of you.

"This place is so well hidden," you say, looking around the café again, "I've walked past and never even seen it before,"

"A lot of people have said that," you were still fixed on his eyes, even when he smiled or talked to you, "it's not very easy to point out to people, is it?"

You smiled in response, trying to avert your gaze from his eyes to the table. amount

"How long have you been working here?" You ask.

"Not too long, only a few months,"

"I doubt it gets lively here, doesn't it bother you how quiet it is?"

He rests his arm on the table and his head in his hand, he was thinking about the question you asked him. There was a fair amount of concentration on his face, his teeth biting down on his lower lip, making you shudder a little bit. He noticed.

"Are you cold? I can make you another drink if you want,"

"No, no, it's okay, I'm not cold," you reply adamantly.

You had planned to wander around and found yourself getting drawn towards this place, and its handsome barista, who was anything but rude.

The light from outside slowly fading out of the windows.

Your eyes look towards the clock on the wall, it was half-past-five, you didn't intend on staying out this long.

"Is something wrong?" His voice came again, soft like it was before.

"I need to go now, it's getting dark," you stood up, gathering your stuff together, "I never asked, what's your name?"

He lays his arm flat on the table and smiles at you again, "my name's Bam,"

"It's been nice meeting you Bam, my name's (Y/N)," you respond, "I won't hesitate to come back to talk to you again,"

He reaches behind him to the counter, fiddling around for a few things before pulling a pen and some paper towards him, writing something down.

He hands you the small piece of paper, which had a phone number on it, it made you blush and smile.

The sound of wood scraping across the floor flooded your ears for a second as he stood up, offering you a hug before you left.

"You're so damn nice and sweet," you compliment him, earning a giggle from his mouth.

"Come back whenever you want to, I'll always be here,"

taglist

@unexceptional-h @jaundrew @koi-chairowo @rizonacigaravenue @aoi-turtle

#tower of god #25th baam #tower of god baam #twenty fifth baam #baam x reader

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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 7 months ago

Text

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 33

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: KESLA

“I really wish you’d let me do this as soon as I got to you.” Krakka grumbles now, giving me a frustrated side-eye while he pours his healing magic into my ribs. I can feel it working already, what the sympathetic mending didn’t do when he set my knee right again starting to take hold while each breath I take hurts less than the last. I still tense each time I take in a lungful of air, uncomfortably aware it’s largely in my head now, really. I’m exhausted, just like the rest of us, so while his magic’s working well enough as always I ain’t really feeling it anywhere near so well as I’d like.

“I was not a priority.” I reply through still-gritted teeth, leaning my head back as I will this to work a bit faster so I can just relax for a few minutes. “More’n one of ‘em needed you a fuckload quicker’n I did when you finally made it in here. I couldn’t have you dulling what you had on me ‘fore you got to ‘em.”

He looks down now as I start bending my knee again, working it some to loosen it up a bit more. ‘Spite of him fixing it up it’s still a little stiffer than I’d really like, and I might still need it before the end o’ the night. ‘Specially if I do go with the new plan.

“How is it?”

“It’ll serve.” I growl, although now it’s more just due to my mood, the pain’s already fading fast now as the knitting in my ribs seems to be racing towards completion. “I just wish this bloody thing’d stay fixed. It had the worst bloody timing to go out on me, I swear.”

“Well I imagine you tweaked it doing something spectacularly foolish, just like the last time I had to repair it again.” He meets my sharp glare with an unflinching look of his own. “Am I wrong?”

Rolling my eyes, I let my head drop back again. “No, you ain’t. But I did have more pressing concerns at the time. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That is how it tends to happen.” He presses one final time, and when I don’t wince this time he lets out a heavy sigh and takes his hand away at last. The warmth lingers for several moments after, the last lingering licks of pain already starting to fade. “What about this?”

“No, this one I got honestly. That sellsword, Mallys … she’s bloody good. She got a lucky shot in. If it hadn’t been for Janna’s tailoring I’d have bought it up there.” I take a deep breath and draw my legs up again, leaning forward now as I lean forward onto my feet so I can plant them under me to start pushing myself up. I pause a moment while I’m crouched now, waiting for my knee to twinge and lock up on me again, but it behaves itself and I let the breath go slow as I shove myself upright. In spite o’ the lingering remnants of his magic there’s still a lot of joints in me complain some before I’m standing again. “Fuck … I dunno, you’d think I’m still too young to feel this old.”

“Please go easier on yourself, Kesla.” he sighs, sounding every bit as tired as I am but also a good deal more regretful as he has to lean into the wall to aid him in following me up. “My Lady can only do so much, you’ve still gone too long without any real rest. Things have been bad enough for the others, I couldn’t bear it if …”

When he falters now I look down at him, seeing the despair welling up in him as he picks up his hammer and swings it up across his shoulder. I step close and lay my hand against his back, giving him a little push which he lets tilt him gently into my side. He lets his head rest against my now mended ribs and press a little more firmly, not really a hug but affectionate enough under the circumstances. “It’s all right, old man. We’re … good enough, for now. ‘Least this part of it’s over.”

For a moment he starts to nod, but then his frown returns and he turns a much more wary look up to me now. “Wait … I don’t understand, this part? What are you saying –”

“We ain’t done yet, Krakka.” I stoop to pluck my swordbelt up from the floor and take a moment to unwind it before starting to strap it back on. “That heinous bitch is still out there, so’s the warlock, an’ worse. We still got a price on our heads, with those sellswords out there. So far Gael’s the only one took one o’ them off the board.”

“But you can’t … no, that’s idiotic. You can’t go out hunting now, it’s folly. Kesla –”

“I ain’t. I’m gonna chase Hontiresk down. Even if I gotta cause a proper stink in the Authority, I’m gonna make that bastard talk to me. I need him to give the rest of ‘em up now.” I buckle up and fiddle with the belt’s lie for a moment before finally sighing as I look down at him again. “I could use you in this, old man. I know you ain’t one for the rough shit, but …”

This just makes his frown deepen, and he looks away as he grips Bloodmoon’s shaft a little tighter. Pondering what I’m asking. He knows well enough what I mean now, when I find Hontiresk I plan on getting real ugly with him to make him spill the beans. “Damn it … you don’t make it very easy for me to be your friend sometimes, Kesla. I can tolerate a lot, but …” He sighs, shifting his feet, then looks up at me again. “But I’ll stand with you, if you need me. For Gael, and for … well, after what we’ve found here, I can’t let that bastard get away with what he had to do with it any more than you can. And for the boy …”

Yeah, that’s got me twisted up in knots as much as he is. When the others finally opened the way so he could make it to us, he did what he could for Gael’s father, stabilizing him enough for Lady Naru to port back to the Temple with him for real treatment at the hands o’ the healers there. He was determined to fix Shay’s wound after, but she insisted he come back to her, Zuldrad needed him way more urgent … but he came back after only a few minutes, looking as crestfallen as I ever seen him before. The hobgoblin had already died before he could get to him …

That news hit me and Shay both like a ton o’ bricks, but it was worse for Darwyn. From what I been able to work out she’d managed to keep herself distracted enough by the effort to get him some help, but once she found out that was all for naught it just broke her. When I found him lying there on my way to help Shay he was still hanging on, he must’ve passed while I was helping Gael … but to be honest I don’t know what I could’ve done. Just one look told me the old cleric was his only hope.

Art managed to hold it together enough to comfort her, but I could tell it was breaking him too, so when Tulen ported back to the Temple with Gael I had her take the pair of ‘em with her, and made her promise not to let him return after. That’s it for him now, I can’t let him work himself any more raw now than he already is. So she came back on her own, while Krakka was dealing with Shay, and I had a quiet word with both her and Naru while he was busy.

The sorcerer’s staying out of this one, same as I had her do last time I went to see the corrupt Administrator. She needs to keep her integrity intact, with Madame Daste gone she’s all we got left besides Thura an’ the Silver Order. Cafi Sirsk is still in position with the Administration, doing their best to cover for us, but I don’t know how much longer they’ll be able to before a successor’s named. It’s a mess, and bound to get a whole lot worse now we just lit a fucking massive beacon in the middle of the city, even if it was largely by accident.

I had Naru contact ‘em to inform the townsguard and whoever else is up there dealing with this mess that there’s people down here needing help, people that were kidnapped from their homes at the behest o’ Hontiresk and his patrons. Whoever they might be. Inviting the Authority to blow the lid right off this mess, however big a stink that raises, as much to blacken Vandryss’ eye as cuz it’s just the right thing to do.

Sighing, I give him another clumsy little half-hug. We stay like this for maybe a minute, then I hear someone clear their throat behind us and step away, turning to meet whoever it is. I find Shay standing by, looking about as grave as we must do now, absent-mindedly fiddling with the knot of the torn swatch of fine black wool tied round her midsection now, over the corset. Covering up the gaping hole from Jammund’s cut, I guess. The remnants of Art’s cloak, apparently, sacrificed to protect her dignity. She winces a little as she smooths the cloth down over where the wound itself used to be, no more hurt than I am now but mindful all the same. She’s been at it long as I have, so she’s feeling it just as bad. We’re all of us strung out.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” she asks me now, looking to Krakka as she realises I’ve already talked him into this daft plan too. “This was bad, but at least it was something that had to be done. What you’re thinking about is … it could blow up in our faces if we get it wrong.”

“This needs to be done too, but you can still pull out if you don’t reckon you can be a party to what I gotta do. I won’t judge you for it. To be honest I’d kinda prefer it if you didn’t.”

Krakka gives me a sharp look now, as if offended by the suggestion after I already essentially emotionally strongarmed him into coming. But he holds his tongue, instead just rolling his eyes and stepping past her into the corridor beyond.

Shay just gives me a similarly cold look as she steps the rest of the way into the room. “After all we’ve been though, how can you –”

“Yeah, all right. Cool.” I wave her off. “I’m glad to have you, really.” I lean back against the wall now, taking a deep breath as I rub at my newly-mended side now, unable to break that psychological habit. “Everybody else been let out now?”

Nodding, Shay steps up beside me and turns to flop back into the wall beside me now, looking a good deal more fresh and assured when she does it. “They have. We’ve opened all the doors, and the healers Shul sent from the Temple have been doing their best to tend to those who need it. She promised to have food and water brought down too within the hour. Otherwise they seem satisfied enough to stay where they are until the Authority makes their way down here to … assess the situation, I suppose. That idea does have its merits, I suppose. Make them pony up now that we’ve done all the actual work. It has a nice ring to it, actually.”

Shrugging, I let my head drop back again, looking up at the bare stone-and-mortar ceiling with its thick, worn, badly polished rafters. “That one’s for Daste. She would’ve done the same, I’m sure. I just wish …”

“Yeah.” Shay sighs, and she falls silent much as I have. We stay as we are for a few moments, and I ponder what we already been through tonight.

Lady Naru led the charge in the end, racing through the corridors with the others to get to that doorway ahead of the mercenaries, and Thel, Brung and Darwyn fought to cover her as she set about the business of opening the way for the ones still stuck in the tunnels. In the end she didn’t bother with anything fancy, no need to try and counter whatever spells Tavarrat laid on the door. Instead she just blew out the wall it was mounted in, after communicating to whoever was stood on the other side to clear the hell outta there before she did it. So the still-sealed door and its frame wound up blown right across the antechamber outside while the way was clear for our reinforcements to come in.

Mallys’ remaining people didn’t wait round long after that, I’m told the hedge wizard took one look at what was coming and just grabbed hold of the halfling before porting away, then came back for the imori. Naru said that one seemed particularly reluctant to leave, which made my skin crawl to consider. Honestly, I’m glad I ain’t run into him yet, he sounds like way more trouble than I’d be ready to handle.

Looking down now, I ponder the body that Gael left behind. The half-orc Shay fought, back on the Heath. Once I ponder his remains I remember the connection that Mallys let slip she had with him when it was clear he was way out of his depth in that fight, and the recollection gives me an uneasy feeling now. From what I can tell, the dynamic within their group’s very much like ours, they’re less a collection of like-minded professionals, bound together for profit, than a makeshift family. She’d do anything she could to protect every one of ‘em, I’m sure of it. But this one … yeah, he was special to her, may be there was genuine love there. And now he’s dead. That spells major trouble for us …

When I turn to her now, I find Shay’s pondering the body too, and almost certainly thinking the same. When our eyes meet for a moment she winces again, sucking a heavy breath in through her teeth, and I growl in sympathy. Yeah, this is definitely gonna come back to bite us in.

Then Lady Naru steps into the room, stopping just inside the doorway as she leans into her staff. She looks tired now, but there’s more to it than that. She seems fraught, I can see it clear as day, and I know well enough what the root o’ that is. She’s worried about Gael. It’s become clear enough how much the half-elf means to her, and their father, which is another reason I didn’t want her coming with us any more’n I wanted Art along. Far as I’m concerned once we’re done here she should head straight back to the Temple to look after them, and herself too, preferable.

“All right then, I’ve done what you asked me to do. Tulen will take you to it once I’m gone.” She sighs. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come? You can’t be sure that Vandryss won’t be there. Tulen’s certainly capable, but if she is there, especially if Tavarrat’s with her –”

“No. I’m sure. Sit this one out. Please.” I try not to wince when I see her flinch, clearly wounded by my tone as much as my insistence, and push away from the wall now to step up to her, reaching out to touch her arm. “Look, I’m doing you a favour. You don’t want to be part o’ this. Just go back an’ give Gael a hug, or … I dunno. Just tell ‘em we’ll be back soon. And thank you. You been a proper godsend, I swear. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Blinking, she looks up at me, and while she still looks so down she nods, managing a weak smile now. “Yes, that’s very true.” she breathes, then before I realise it she’s stepped forward quick and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I’m so surprised it takes me a moment to respond, but then I hug her back, crushing her as much as I dare.

“Thank you.” she mutters into my shoulder “For everything you’ve done. For Gael, and Darion. That means the world to me.”

Giving her a little extra squeeze for that, I just nod back, trusting she can feel it on her shoulder. She pulls away soon after, letting another heavy sigh go, then turns to Shay, who’s more ahead o’ the situation than I was so she’s already opening her arms. As the sorcerer folds her into another embrace, I step away and, after a moment’s consideration, carry on into the corridor.

There’s people already out here, many of ‘em shabby and worn and at the end o’ their rope, looking like they been through hell and starved within an inch o’ their lives. Some seem proper broken, just sat slumped against the wall or laid out on the floor, but others are making the most o’ being out of their makeshift cells, breathing air that’s at least fresher than what they been stuck in since the Hardway. As I look round more’n one looks my way, and while there’s a troubling mixture of emotions on many o’ their faces I see gratitude in more’n one. I gotta take a deep breath and fight back the thickening in my throat as I feel my eyes start to burn as tears start to threaten me.

‘Least they seem to be in good hands now. Soon as we had the place secure an’ Darion had been shipped back to the Temple, Shul had her own people wing their way down to us, resident wizards porting clerics in to tend to those who needed appropriate care on the spot. Those healers are passing among the freed prisoners now, working their god magic, offering medical aid, or just a kind word and a shoulder to cry on. It’s heartening enough to watch, but seeing the kindness of Minerva’s Faithful still makes it hard for me to keep my own emotions in check.

Then I spot Thel ducking through the jumble, with Tulen in tow, Krakka tracking along a little behind ‘em both now. I’m a little surprised to see the dwarf back, I expected she’d prob’ly stay at the Temple with her friends now they’d been found and ported out to safety, much as they’d hoped. Part o’ me’s glad to see her, figuring she’ll be help enough if we do run into trouble where we’re going, but I still kinda wish she’d stayed after all.

“Hey.” She gives me a surprisingly broad grin as she draws close, looking me over now. “Nice to see you up. How’s the knee?”

“It’ll serve.” I step up to meet her now, trying to smile back but not feeling much success in the endeavour. “Surprised to see you back, I would’ve thought –”

“Du an’ Brung are back at the Temple with ‘em. Yulla was tired as hell, she wore herself real thin trying to keep Drin alive, almost all the pittance o’ food an’ water they gave ‘em to survive she gave to her little girl. Shul gave her something to drink, sent her right off to sleep, she said she’ll be out for ‘least a day from it but when she wakes up she’ll be feeling a whole lot better. Du’s keeping an eye on her, I insisted. Brung would’ve come back with me but Drin just would not let go of ‘im. He’s always been her favourite, an’ she needs to feel safe after all this, so …” She shrugs, growing more wistful now.

“But you could’ve –”

“No, I really couldn’t.” Her smile’s gone in an instant as she gives me a very pointed look. “I owe you, we all do. Never mind that you saved us all in the Gods Round, an’ then again at the Heath, after I got real stupid. We never could’ve found ‘em without your help. Any help you need now we’re here for you. So here I am.”

This makes my throat feel a little thicker, but I still manage to push the tears back down again. I manage what feels like a more sincere smile, too. “Thanks. I really appreciate the help.”

Looking up past her now, I see Tulen’s clearly a bit more strung out, and the more pragmatic part o’ me starts to wonder if maybe Lady Naru would be a better choice right now. The young wizard’s doing her best pretending she’s up to the task, but I can see the worry an’ wear in her now, knowing she’s gotta be fretting about Gael and Darion. But we need her right now, so I have to bite back the concern and just go along with the plan as it is. “You good?”

She blinks when I ask, but while she gives her borrowed staff a tighter squeeze than I’d like she still nods, and don’t stammer any when she speaks like I half expected her to. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can do this.”

“Course you can.” I lie, trying not to wince. “So, we ready?”

Nodding, she starts to turn back now, pointing down the way they just come. “This way.”

Turning back, I find I don’t have to hold us up after all as I see Shay’s already waiting behind me, so I just give her a nod and cock my head for her to follow. When I turn back Tulen’s starting to make her way back down the corridor, weaving carefully through the assorted crowd, so I just follow while Thel forges ahead after her.

She leads us around two corners before we finally turn into one of the newly-liberated rooms. It’s bleak in here, just more o’ that cheap carpet and bare walls with fresh lit lamps mounted high in the walls casting a stark light on the confines some o’ these poor folk were trapped in. Mostly it’s just an unpleasant miasma, the whole place stinking of fear-sweat and piss and shit from the buckets in the corner, but a significant section of the carpet’s been dragged up and rolled away from the bare floor now. In its place, on the cold, flat concrete, is a teleportation circle, fresh drawn in chalk, courtesy of Lady Naru. I don’t need to wonder where it goes, this was entirely my plan.

There’s two more folk waiting for us in here, looking suitably intimidating and more’n a little bloody now from spearheading the battle in the tunnels before they got hung up at the door. Sonagh just gives me a simple nod which I return in kind, but the massive bugbear, Dow, tips me a sly wink and cocked grin which manages to raise my own half-hearted smile. I step up to them while the others make their way straight to the circle.

“You’re okay with this, then?” I ask the orc as he picks his shield up again, Dow following his example. “You done enough for us already. Might be better if you didn’t get involved in what we do next.”

Sonagh just frowns at me. “I owe it to Venne to see this through. An’ Dow’s his own man, which means he’ll follow me whether I want him to or not.”

“Damn straight.” the bugbear rumbles as he stalks right past me, stepping onto the circle as the others start to gather on it too.

“Okay then.” I turn and step up beside Tulen, and Sonagh doesn’t hesitate to follow. I turn to the wizard. “Ready.”

Sighing, Tulen looks down to study the markings under her feet as the stragglers finally take up their place with us, then licks her lips as she starts to weave a sigil. It takes her a few moments to complete it while the chalk lines start to shine brighter with each second, then she speaks the incantation and I take a deep breath, even though I know from past experience this should be much smoother.

Everything seems to shift in a comparatively gentle shunt, then once the flash clears we’re stood in a more open space, with much fresher air. I look up first, seeing a night sky overhead, oil-fed lamplight shining round us, then down, finding we’re now stood just inside a small garden patio just inside the low-walled perimeter of a three storey building. It’s a pretty swanky looking place, ostentatious without being overly gaudy, as much wood as expensive carved stone in the construction, while the landscaped plants have been mercilessly manicured with a cruel precision I remember Gael called topiary. This is definitely somewhere up on the Hill, which means we gotta be in the right place.

I asked Lady Naru to draw us a teleportation circle that would send us direct to wherever Hontiresk is, no matter where he might be hiding out or moving to when we actually used it. Apparently this was a tall order, this kind of teleportation magic is real hard to master and tricky to execute at best, but she was equal to the task. So it’s a safe bet we’ll find that sleazy bastard somewhere in this place.

There’s a sign by the front door, engraved in an almost indecently smooth, highly-reflective polished brass plaque, which reads: UNTERMER GOODFELLOWS. GENTLEMEN’S CLUB AND GAME ROOMS. MEMBERS ONLY. When I look to Tulen she’s reading this too, and when she turns she has a nervous look on her face now, like she really don’t like what this entails.

Taking a breath, I just start up the steps to the substantial, polished redwood door, which could weigh half a ton all on its own. Gods, I hope we won’t have to try an’ break through that, looks like even Dow’d have trouble with it. I’m kinda wishing Big Man was with us now.

Tulen follows with a startled gasp, likely wanting to beg me off but stopping herself at the last. I don’t turn, instead stepping up to the door itself, immediately seeing it’s already open. Jut a crack, but it’s noticeable enough, which gives me wary pause as I turn back to the others. Sonagh’s starting to step up after us, and I give him a look, pointing at him now to signal for him to slow up, get his wits about him when he follows. He frowns, baring his teeth, and his hand immediately goes to his sword.

Pushing the door, I let it swing inwards, holding my ground as I peer through with both my hands gripping Hefdred, one on the hilt while the other grasps the scabbard, ready to draw. Listening as well as looking, paying attention for any sign of … well, just about anything. This already feels all kinds of buggered …

The place is silent, which is a whole lot more worrying than sounds of violence or screaming or anything else we could encounter would be. I take a deep breath and step all the way inside, going slow as I adjust my grip but keeping my sword sheathed, waiting to see what happens first before I commit.

Gods, this place is as ridiculous as the Playhouse was. Everything’s just stupid fancy, the walls and floors and even the ceiling of this entrance hall furnished entirely in the same kind smoothly polished and intimidatingly expensive-looking redwood as the door. There’s another one o’ those chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, although this one’s a good deal more modest, just cast iron but still lit with a fuckload o’ candles. The fact the similarly expensive floor ain’t been completely ruined by dripping wax speaks volumes on the kind o’ dedicated care the staff here must take keeping an eye on it. Or maybe a single drop’s a firing offence so they got no choice. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised in a place like this.

So far nothing actually seems off, aside from the fact it’s so quiet. But there’s something else that’s bugging me now, too. I cast a sidelong glance behind me to find Tulen’s the first in behind me, still gripping her staff tight as she takes the place in with wide eyes. I keep my voice low as I lean closer. “Hey … places like this, they usually have doormen, right?”

For a moment she just looks at me, and I can tell she’s working out what I actually asked in her nervousness. Then she blinks, nodding. “Oh, yes. Of course. I mean I’ve only heard about places like this, they’re very strict with their rules. Usually women aren’t even allowed in them, unless they’ve been specifically invited by one of the members. And even then …” She pauses when she catches my impatient frown, wincing a little as she works on getting herself back on track. “And you’re right, of course. There should be significant security in this place.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I draw my sword immediately and give up any pretence of stealth now, stalking into the centre of the room, underneath the chandelier, to turn a slow circle. I don’t even make it halfway before I spot a pretty major confirmation. “Well shit.”

“What is it?” Tulen scrambles in now, hefting her staff some as she tenses, turning to look into the corner I’m inspecting now, out of sight from the doorway. “Oh! My … well that’s … I see what you mean. That’s not good at all.”

Sonagh follows her right in, and when he sees the body sprawled in a bloody tangle he just grunts, noncommittal, like he’s been expecting it.

This is obviously one of the security guards I was expecting, very much in keeping with what I come to expect, ‘specially seeing what Hontiresk liked to keep around. Big, solid and very well armed. Not that it helped, this poor bastard looks to have been carved up pretty spectacularly. Whoever did it clearly has issues.

Looking at it now, I already know who did this. And it’s a real bad sign indeed.

“Spread out, look everywhere. We need to find Hontiresk. Now.”

“Dow mate, do us a favour an’ stay with Mistress Shoon.” Sonagh growls as he draws his own sword, hefting his shield as he starts stalking across the room, heading through the door at the back o’ this main room. I turn to the bugbear now, finding him watching me with a stern frown.

“Sorry.” I mutter, feeling a little bad about him getting lumbered like that.

He just shrugs, picking his own shield up now as he just hefts his intimidating battleaxe, letting it rest across his shoulder. “It’s fine. I don’t mind at all. Doubt you really need it, you look tough enough to handle yourself, but I’ll do him that favour all the same.”

Nodding, I look down at Krakka as he starts to frown, already catching what I’m thinking. “Go with Tulen.” When he opens his mouth I run right over him. “C’mon, old man. I need you to play this smart. Back her up.”

Sighing, he don’t even grace me with a reply, he just starts tromping up the staircase climbing the right side o’ the room after the young wizard. I turn to Shay now. “D’you mind staying here? Keeping an eye on the street?”

She arches her brows, seeming surprised. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t like this any. I don’t want anything to sneak up on us in here. Things are …” I grimace. “I dunno, but I don’t like it.”

“Okay.” She nods, sheathing her sword again as she steps back towards the still open door. “I’ll come find you if … well, you know.”

That just leaves Thel, who cocks a brow up at me now. “What about me?”

“Go after Sonagh. I doubt there’s actually anybody here now, ‘least still alive. But just in case.”

“Aye, you got a point there.” She shoulders her battleaxe with a nod and heads off in the direction the orc went.

“All right then, luv.” Dow rumbles now, quietly expectant. “Where to?”

“Second floor. Call it a hunch.”

The bugbear nods his agreement and heads straight for the stairs, letting me follow at my own leisure. I pause at the bottom, looking to the door again, and find Shay looking back at me. She frowns when she catches my eye, but gives a rueful little half-smile after a moment, and I return my own best I can before turning away and starting my own climb.

We find more bodies when we reach the first floor, two cleaved and bloody like the first, looking like they been cut down on the run, and neither of ‘em seem to be fighters like the guard clearly was. More like highborn noblemen, soft targets that didn’t stand a chance against whatever it was caught up with ‘em. Makes me queasy just looking at ‘em.

The third body’s a guard, but he wasn’t killed with a sword. He looks burned, something hot and nasty, but while there’s scorch marks on the thick carpet underfoot and streaking the walls they look more like something seared across what it’s blackened with significant speed. This stinks of magic, which makes me think o’ Tavarrat. Which would confirm my suspicion that the blade must’ve been Vandryss’.

I go ahead now as we climb the next flight up to the second floor. We find more bodies as we climb, broken as much by tumbling down the steps as any damage they received while they fled, but there’s room enough on the steps to slip past with ease. The landing above yields a good deal more, we have to step with a lot more care now to make it through the nearest doorway, and I find myself checking each o’ the bodies as we go. Both hoping one of ‘em is Hontiresk, but also dreading finding him dead after all. Which’d make all o’ this worthless.

When I step inside the room, Dow patiently waiting for his turn behind, I find myself stopping just inside the door, a little taken aback by what I find. Another ridiculously spacious room, tall as it is wide, decorated much the same as the rest of the building’s interior save the fact every wall in here is bookshelves, from floor to ceiling, every one of ‘em full. Again I’m a little baffled by the kind of effortless displays of pointless wealth highborns continuously gotta rub in common folk’s faces.

There’s more bodies in here, but one immediately draws my eye at the expense of everyone else who’s been cut or blown down. The moment I see it any fight I might’ve had in me ebbs away, my arms dropping flat at my sides while my shoulders sag. “Shit …”

“What is it?” Dow slips past me in the space available and squares up soon as he’s inside, bringing his shield up while he readies his axe … then falters when he sees there’s no actual point. He sags almost immediately, his shield thumping on the floor as he frowns, turning back to me. “I don’t get it. They’re all –”

“Yeah.” I hiss through my teeth, more regretful than angry now as I sheathe my sword again. I really don’t need it right now. “They are. There ain’t no threat left here, you can stow what you need to.”

His frown darkens and I can sense a question coming, but he holds his tongue as I just start walking across the room. Focused on the same sight that took all the wind outta me in the first place – Gubal, the orc bodyguard, pinned to the wall in the midst of what’s clearly the debris of a desperate fight to the death. When I get close I realise that’s his sword run through both him and the wall. Impaled with a lot of strength, clearly. As if that cut throat weren’t already wound enough to finish him off.

“Oh … fuck, that’s just … damn it Gubal, you didn’t deserve to go out like that.”

“Who is ‘e?” Dow wonders now, close behind me now, looking up at the dead orc. He’s already strapped his shield across his back.

I’m already stepping away, feeling genuinely sick now. “Hired muscle, but a higher class’n most. The kind deserves genuine respect, far as I’m concerned. Definitely deserved better’n that.” I point to the corpse slumped in the chair nearby, its severed head lying on the floor several feet away. “Worked for him.”

Dow’s next words are a long time coming, but when they do it’s in one big, heavy sigh. “Ah hell. That’s him, ain’t it? This fancy fella we’re after.”

“Unfortunately.” I’m eyeing the bar in the corner now, suddenly desperate for a snifter.

The sound of running feet entering the room stops me short, and I’m already turning as Shay skids to a stop a little inside the door. “We’ve got trouble. Outside. Major trouble.”

“What is it?” I find myself growling the words, feeling angry and tired and just sick o’ this shit all at once now. The weight of not only this whole night but the entire week we just had is bearing down on me now, I can feel it crushing me.

“Townsguard. And Terrors, a lot of them.” She’s taking in the room now, the carnage. Finally her eyes focus on the body pinned to the wall like some mad butterfly nut’s gone off in here. Her eyes are wide, like she’s having trouble making sense of it all. “Gods … what happened in here?”

“Vandryss killed Hontiresk.” I snarl as I start making my way back across the room towards her. My skin’s crawling, while a deep, unsettling chill rolls up my spine.

“She did?” She gawks at me now, more shocked than ever, and has trouble finding the words as I reach her. “But … I don’t understand. That makes no fucking sense, Kesla. Why the hell would she do that? I thought they were –”

Taking hold of her upper arms now, I catch her eyes and hold her attention now. “Cuz she had no more use for him, ‘cept one. She murdered him, then she an’ Tavarrat murdered everybody else in the place to make it look like we did it.”

“Fuck!” Dow snaps now, and I hear his heavy footfalls pounding after me now as he hurries to catch up with me as I turn Shay round and start towing her towards the door while I wait for her to catch up to the situation in her astounded state.

“We gotta get outta here right now.”

THE END OF BOOK FOUR

THE STORY WILL BE CONTINUED IN BOOK FIVE

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 4 chapter 33 #final chapter #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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grigori77 · 3 years ago

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Thanks to Critical Role I recently discovered the joy of Hero Forge and their awesome custom-design tabletop gaming miniatures, and since I’m writing and self-publishing my own sword & sorcery fantasy adventure stories, Never Split the Party, on here - please, check it out here at The Adventures of the Creeping Bam - I couldn’t help myself, I had to have a crack at creating some minis of the story’s main characters. I’ve already posted a look at the party’s leader, Kesla Shoon, and now here’s their resident mage, the half-elf wizard Gael Foxtail.

A member of the Silver Order, basically Tao’s established magical organisation tasked with training young mages and protecting the populace of Tao from the kinds of terrible things that darker forms of magic can unleash on the world, they’re a second generation prodigy who fell in with the Creeping Bam when they went out to help those who can’t help themselves. They’re quite a sweet kid, kind of unsure of themselves and often try too hard to overcompensate, but they’ve got a serious talent with magic and they’re a real asset to the group.

This one turned out a bit more successfully than Kesla, much closer to the design in my head, although the limits of the customisation options still held me back a bit. Ultimately though, I think this one turned out really good. There will be more coming further down the line.

In the meantime, please go over and check Never Split the Party out and start reading Book One: the Job. Hope you enjoy it as much as I am writing it.

#never split the party #the adventures of the creeping bam #hero forge #original fantasy fiction #fantasy fiction #original fiction #Gael Foxtail

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id-pack-archive · 9 days ago

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Plain text

Minecraft ID Pack

Names | alex. amber. amethyst. ash. azalea. blaze. block. briar. brick. brielle. brier. brook. carver. celeste. clay. cobble. cree. crystal. daisy. dawn. dusty. ember. end. eve. flint. flora. forge. garnet. gemma. granite. grayson. harper. hazel. hero. holly. hopper. iris. ivy. jade. jett. juniper. lapis. laurel. lilac. lily. magnolia. maple. marigold. mason. meadow. miner. mira. moss. nova. oak. onyx. opal. pearl. pebble. poppy. prairie. pyre. quill. red. reed. river. rocky. rose. rowan. ruby. sable. sage. sapphire. selene. shale. sky. skye. skylar. slate. smith. spruce. steele. stella. stephen. stone. sunny. terra. thalia. timber. torch. violet. wade. willow.

Pronouns | adventurer/adventurer. allay/allay. ar/armour. ax/axe. bam/bamboo. bat/bat. bee/bee. biome/biome. birch/birch. blaz/blaze. blaze/blaze. block/block. build/build. bun/bun. cake/cake. chest/chest. clay/clay. cob/cobble. copper/cooper. cow/cow. cra/craft. craf/craft. craft/craft. cre/creative. creep/creeper. creeper/creeper. dark/dark. deep/deepslate. deep/slate. dig/dig. disc/disc. drown/drown. ely/elytra. elytra/elytra. en/end. end/end. end/eye. ender/ender. ender/enderman. enderman/endermen. explorer/explorer. fight/fight. flint/flint. for/forge. fox/fox. ghast/ghast. glow/stone. goat/goat. grav/gravel. heal/heal. hive/hive. hun/hunger. husk/husk. ice/ice. kaboom/kaboom. kelp/kelp. lav/lava. love/love. magma/magma. mi/mine. mine/mine. mob/mob. mod/mod. moosh/mooshroom. mooshroom/mooshroom. musicnote/musicnote. nether/nether. nostalgia/nostalgia. nostalgic/nostalgic. oak/oak. ocean/ocean. ore/ore. over/overworld. over/world. pearl/pearl. phantom/phantom. pi/pick. pig/pig. pig/pigstep. pig/step. play/player. ram/ram. red/stone. sap/sapling. scream/scream. sculk/sculk. sea/sea. shea/shear. sheep/sheep. sho/shovel. shulk/shulker. skele/skeleton. skeleton/skeleton. skulk/skulk. slime/slime. sme/smelt. smp/smp. snow/snow. spawner/spawner. spec/spectator. speed/speedrun. spider/spider. spruce/spruce. sta/stack. sto/stone. strider/strider. surv/survival. survivor/survivor. swo/sword. tele/teleport. terra/terracotta. tnt/tnt. tor/torch. tree/tree. ve/vex. vwoop/vwoop. warden/warden. warp/warped. warrior/warrior. wat/water. wit/wither. wither/wither. wo/wood. wolf/wolf. xp/xp. zomb/zombie. zombie/zombie.

MINECRAFT ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ alex. amber. amethyst. ash. azalea. blaze. block. briar. brick. brielle. brier. brook. carver. celeste. clay. cobble. cree. crystal. daisy. dawn. dusty. ember. end. eve. flint. flora. forge. garnet. gemma. granite. grayson. harper. hazel. hero. holly. hopper. iris. ivy. jade. jett. juniper. lapis. laurel. lilac. lily. magnolia. maple. marigold. mason. meadow. miner. mira. moss. nova. oak. onyx. opal. pearl. pebble. poppy. prairie. pyre. quill. red. reed. river. rocky. rose. rowan. ruby. sable. sage. sapphire. selene. shale. sky. skye. skylar. slate. smith. spruce. steele. stella. stephen. stone. sunny. terra. thalia. timber. torch. violet. wade. willow.

PRONOUNS ⌇ adventurer/adventurer. allay/allay. ar/armour. ax/axe. bam/bamboo. bat/bat. bee/bee. biome/biome. birch/birch. blaz/blaze. blaze/blaze. block/block. build/build. bun/bun. cake/cake. chest/chest. clay/clay. cob/cobble. copper/cooper. cow/cow. cra/craft. craf/craft. craft/craft. cre/creative. creep/creeper. creeper/creeper. dark/dark. deep/deepslate. deep/slate. dig/dig. disc/disc. drown/drown. ely/elytra. elytra/elytra. en/end. end/end. end/eye. ender/ender. ender/enderman. enderman/endermen. explorer/explorer. fight/fight. flint/flint. for/forge. fox/fox. ghast/ghast. glow/stone. goat/goat. grav/gravel. heal/heal. hive/hive. hun/hunger. husk/husk. ice/ice. kaboom/kaboom. kelp/kelp. lav/lava. love/love. magma/magma. mi/mine. mine/mine. mob/mob. mod/mod. moosh/mooshroom. mooshroom/mooshroom. musicnote/musicnote. nether/nether. nostalgia/nostalgia. nostalgic/nostalgic. oak/oak. ocean/ocean. ore/ore. over/overworld. over/world. pearl/pearl. phantom/phantom. pi/pick. pig/pig. pig/pigstep. pig/step. play/player. ram/ram. red/stone. sap/sapling. scream/scream. sculk/sculk. sea/sea. shea/shear. sheep/sheep. sho/shovel. shulk/shulker. skele/skeleton. skeleton/skeleton. skulk/skulk. slime/slime. sme/smelt. smp/smp. snow/snow. spawner/spawner. spec/spectator. speed/speedrun. spider/spider. spruce/spruce. sta/stack. sto/stone. strider/strider. surv/survival. survivor/survivor. swo/sword. tele/teleport. terra/terracotta. tnt/tnt. tor/torch. tree/tree. ve/vex. vwoop/vwoop. warden/warden. warp/warped. warrior/warrior. wat/water. wit/wither. wither/wither. wo/wood. wolf/wolf. xp/xp. zomb/zombie. zombie/zombie.

#theme | games #theme | minecraft #names #pronouns

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blooms-of-ice · 4 years ago

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Wyda is officially retired...for now. She had a good run, and I loved writing for her! GOD the existential dread I felt as I drew closer and closer to running the event that would end her.

Her story continues through another. Give a follow here! :D

I’ll be keeping this blog up as an archive, although I might still post every now and again. But since her arc is done, here goes! An unedited, unfiltered slurry of words-directly-from-brain-to-keyboard about Wyda! I’m warning you, this is true farm fresh to you stuff. And spoilers for many events in FF14. Read on if you dare.

Strap in, it’s going to be a long and bumpy ride.

Did I say that I love Primals?

Primal lore gives the FF14 devs a lot of creative freedom when it comes to designing bosses. Want the arena changed? Want something/someone to look absolutely wack? Want to spin up a threat without having a villain train for years prior? Bam, primals.

It also gives us, the players, the same creative freedoms when it comes to roleplaying!

The requirements to summon one are humorously low. At first, primals result from misguided and zealous beastmen shenanigans. Ifrit, Titan, Ramuh, Leviathan, Garuda...but then we get a bunch of weird summonings. Like when Ga Bu summons a funky version of Titan through his despair alone. Or when Yotsuyu brings forth Tsukuyomi because she really, really wants to see the world burn. Hell, Gilgamesh just thinks about his friend Enkidu in the presence of some crystals, and that’s enough to bring forth a primal. So I guess the only requirements for a primal summoning are 1) crystals and 2) thinking kinda hard? Strong feelings, especially negative ones, seem to be more effective but then again! What the heck happened with Gilgamesh? Who knows?!

But this is one of my favorite things in FF14. It’s a powder keg of a situation that will, and HAS, gone off multiple times.

Being tempered, meanwhile, is a fate worse than death. You’re forced to change sides and fight for the enemy. You don’t even find peace when you die - tempered souls linger in Eorzea thanks to how messed up they are by the process. But you don’t become a mindless servant either. *Points to Emet-Selch who is....kinda...on your side (???) but also on Zodiark’s side*

Things aren’t nearly as dark now that tempering can be cured. I’m very thankful, since otherwise my campaign would’ve had a very, very depressing ending. One that I originally planned for but STILL. I’m weak. ;_;

Riding off the Rails

Primal lore is flexible. In ARR, the rules are established, but later expansions took those rules and went “Well, what about this? And this? And this?” In other words, this is me admitting that I’m shameless and will stretch this lore until I reach the moon.

Developing Wyda was a ‘chicken first, egg later’ sort of situation. Though trite, I gave her amnesia in order to give myself an excuse for knowing nothing about FF14 lore (and because I was new to roleplaying). When I finally sat down to flesh her out, my mind kept returning to primals. I love ‘em and their potential for drama! So yeah, I was determined to make it work.

There were a lot of questions I had to answer. If Wyda is a primal, then why isn’t she tempering everyone she meets?! How is she getting away with being a ‘normal’ person? And how do I avoid power creep? I know, for a fact, that if I walked into an RP event and just said...hey. My character is a primal, are you cool with that? The answer would be a solid no. Nooooo! I’d tell that to myself! So I wanted to solve these questions in a fair way that would allow others (and myself) to remain immersed in the roleplaying world. Luckily, FF14 lore is like a bottomless chest of building blocks. It was just a matter of stacking them carefully.

Primals are summoned when someone thinks around some crystals (Ah, Gilgamesh...)

The primal’s purpose is based on the summoner’s desires, but with a monkey’s paw twist (Ga Bu’s Titan punching the other kobolds away is indicative of this)

The amount of aether used in the summoning determines how powerful the primal will be (Shinryu being beefy as hell)

Primals can be summoned out of thin air, or be channeled into someone’s body

When a primal is channeled, the summoner needs the Echo to resist (Ysalye and Ryne). Otherwise the summoner is tempered by their own creation.

Now, with those blocks in hand, I started spitballing...and it led me to this thought. If a primal’s purpose is to NOT be a primal, what happens?

Would they know that they’re a primal?

Can they still use their primal powers?

What happens when the primal is based off of someone who still exists?

For Wyda, I chose to swing this way.

Her memory is garbage because she’s a primal based on someone else. Even if you know someone really well, you can’t perfectly recreate/emulate them.

She’s normal-powered because all her primal magic is going towards suppressing her powers. Extremely inefficient. And she’s very human-like because she’s possessing someone else’s body, as opposed to being made purely of primal aether.

Primals temper whether they want to or not - aether leaks, and it corrupts. To solve this for Wyda, instead of leaking aether out of the wazoo...thanks to the nature of her summoning, she just leaks a tiny bit all the time. Not enough to temper.

But I also wrote myself into a corner. If Wyda isn’t going to behave like a primal, then how does she exist for so long? They need a constant source of aether to survive, and she’s not doing primal stuff since she’s too busy being human. And so...the answer is that she doesn’t. Once her aether runs out, then poof.

See? Fun! (But also pain. So much pain.)

Playing with Fire

Eorzea (like most fantasy RPG settings) is a nightmare factory. Most, if not all, who make their living ‘adventuring’ are scarred from what they have to face. For every success story (WoL), there are countless more tragedies (Avere). And even if you survive...who wouldn’t get trauma if you were an adventurer and it was normal for your buddies to be eaten by a beast, tempered by a primal, possessed by a ghost?

Which is to say, Wyda's scars run deep. Shit goes down.

To repeat that in slightly more words: Wyda is an accidental byproduct of Cravendy’s grief and longing. At her lowest moment, Cravendy (a Seawolf pirate) thinks of her friend Dots and the unfairness of it all. And oops, there are crystals nearby. So now, we got Wyda walking around in Cravendy’s body, thinking that she’s someone named Dots. By the way, Dots is still alive! Very awkward.

Wyda is a denial incarnate. She is Cravendy’s dream for safety, family, and happiness for Dots. But denial does not erase the past, nor does it change how you feel. By existing, Wyda suppresses those feelings for Cravendy and freezes the other woman in the past. With the both of them like this, Cravendy will never accept her trauma and Wyda will be plagued with a stranger’s guilt.

Primal souls are weird. I have no idea where they come from, but they seem separate from the summoner’s. So as Wyda’s influence wanes, Cravendy’s soul begins to resurface. This forces Wyda into a cycle of self-discovery and self-destruction that, unfortunately, convinces Wyda that she ought to disappear. It’s a tragic conclusion she reaches after having her worldview shattered. She’s a copy of Dots, she’s a primal. What’s real, and what’s not? What even matters?

The Power of Love

Love is a persistent theme for all of my characters. For Cravendy, love is why she hurts, so she would rather forget it than bear any more pain. But Wyda is the opposite - she loves too much. When all else is a sham, Wyda trusts that the love she feels is real. And ultimately, this love dooms Wyda and saves Cravendy.

Wyda’s fatal flaw is her self-destructive selflessness. Thanks to being mistaken for Dots all the time, Wyda develops a low sense of self. Then events of the campaign erode that into nothingness. She’s a second rate copy full of brittle memories, she’s a fake! And discovering Cravendy’s sleeping soul only pushes Wyda further into her flaw. Here is my purpose, she thinks! My original! And I’ll save her no matter what, because she deserves to live!

But it’s a mistake. Certainly, Cravendy is saved, but Wyda deserves to be saved too. Although she loves with all her heart, Wyda never learns to love herself and see her own self-worth. She doesn’t understand that her friends don’t share her view of herself - as a worthless copy that can only find value in saving another. Her selflessness loops into selfishness.

Maybe Wyda will come back...She certainly has a lot to learn still!

The TLDR version of all this is that I accidentally pulled a Kingdom Hearts plot with this character, and now I understand, Nomura. I UNDERSTAND WHY YOU BRING BACK YOUR CHARACTERS. ;_;

#Aiswyda Nuthalwyn #me as I got myself into this mess: pain #lots of pain but #but also very rewarding #I hope you all give Cravendy a follow!! lol I keep making new blogs for organizational purposes #ff14 rp #art

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pandjseetheworld · 3 years ago

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The Lost Coast

A year ago Pearce booked a “surprise” backpacking trip for me. When we decided we were taking this long honeymoon I convinced him to tell me what the surprise trip was so we could figure out if the surprise backpacking trip was still possible. Surprise!! It’s a 4 day backpacking trek along the California Coast! I was stoked!! And thought this would be the perfect trip to get us moving along with our travels and start us off on the right foot.

Preparation

After reading up on the trail it seemed we had some preparation to take on before heading out. We had to take into account; food and water, ticks/rattlesnakes & Loki, shuttle/transportation, tides, whatever sneaker waves were, and then there is the hike itself!

Food and Water

This was pretty easy because we already had a bunch of freeze dried meals, snacks, and bagged oatmeal from previous camp trips so we just threw in what we had in a bag and called it a day. My mom and I also went to REI to buy a few extra meals and snacks so we had some for our car ride as well (just in case, easy road meals!). For water, there are a bunch of creeks along the trail so all we needed were our nalgenes and a water purifier and we were set. Well, we also needed the jet oil and food but we had already had all that from previous camp trips so food/water was simple to prepare.

Loki/ Ticks & Rattlesnakes

To make sure Loki was ready we had to buy booties because the terrain is rough on his feet. Now, I may be a crazy dog mom BUT I wouldn’t buy him shoes unless it was completely necessary. For the majority of the 24 miles, we were walking on black coarse sand. The sand is so rough that it is known to irritates in between the dog paw pads and make it hard for them to walk. There are also certain areas of the trek where you are walking on big sharp rocks that could tear a dogs feet up. So, we bought Loki booties and my gossssh they are the cutest things ever!! It took some training but he is pretty good with them and doen’t whimper when I put them on him. He definitely needed to training to get used to them so don’t go buying them and think WHOOOO I’m ready! No, it takes time! (And now that I write this post hiking, the booties gave poor Loki blisters and chaffed his dew claw. A week before hiking Loki had to get surgery to get his left dew claw removed from fracturing it somehow, I think it was from the booties but regardless Loki was a week post operation when we did this hike. He is a freaking trooper but the booties are not something I would recommend unless completely necessary or if your pup doesn’t have front dew claws).

Next, my littler sister and her husband got Loki a hiking backpack (THANK YOU) so he could feel like a true hiker. He was able to carry 2 days worth of food and some little odds and ends. Again, I had to train him up for this; first I got him comfortable with the pack and slowly added more and more weight. It took some hikes but he eventually started to like his backpack and while hiking he was super cute and knew when we got him in his pack it was time to walk. We made sure to take his pack off immediately when we got to a rest spot or our actual destination.

TICKS, yuck!!! After reading a bunch of articles, websites, and blogs on this hike everyone mentioned that the ticks were really bad. Gross! So we went above and beyond for protection. Loki got on strong ticks meds, topical tick medication, tick spray, and I even got him organic tick shampoo. Yes, it was probably overboard but it paid off. We took off like 10-20 ticks and they were all dead, so that made me feel pretty good. For us, we sprayed our shoes, hiking pants, packs, and tents with Sawyer Premium Insect Repellent. We had to spray our gear down, let it dry for 2 hour, flip the gear, and spray the other sides and wait. It was a process but Pearce and I didn’t have any ticks!! What a freaking relief!

On to my next enemy, the rattlesnake! Woof! We spoke with Pearce’s co-worker who had done the trail before and he said there were a ton of rattlesnakes!! After living in Cali for 5 years and being a hiker, I always ask more knowledgeable people what to do if a snake bites you and you ALWAYS get a different answer; turniquet, suck out the venom, get comfy while someone goes for help, elevate, use Benadryl, ice or don’t ice?! I’m still not entirely sure what we would have done if one of us got bit by a rattlesnake but thankfully the weather was on our side and we didn’t have to worry about it. It was 60 and foggy most days (Minute a few sunny hours in the afternoon) so we didn’t have to worry about snakes. If it were sunny and 70 I could imagine this have being a much bigger issue. But since it wasn’t, I’ll move on.

Shuttle/Transportation

To start the Lost Coast Hike you need to be shuttled two hours North to Matthole where you begin the hike. If you don’t book a shuttle, you can swap keys with a fellow hiker but with everything we own in the car, I wasn’t going to chance that.

There are only 3 shuttles available

1. Bills Lost Coast Shuttle (707-442-1983) This is an elderly man who runs his own company and is super friendly - he didn’t have room for us and he doesn’t take dogs

2. Lost Coast Adventures (707 -986- 9895) This is a larger company but they charge the most and they charge a fee for dogs

3. Mendo Insider Tours (707-813- 0886) A smaller company that doesn’t charge for pets and is cheaper than Lost Coast Ad.

Tides & Sneaker Waves

We had to print out a tide chart because there were certain parts of the trail that are impassible at hightide. Pearce timed out when we could/couldn’t hike and it was super easy! Not a problemmmm!

Apparently there are these sneaky waves called “sneaker waves” that you have to be careful of. These waves will randomly pop up out of no where and creep 20 feet further than all the other waves. This can be an issue if you’re walking on the wet sand (better grip than the dry sand) and then BAM a wave that wipes you out! I kept a good eye on the waves the whole trip so no sneaker waves snuck up on us!!

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greenglasslov3 · 5 years ago

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Rewrite The Stars

A/N: This is my contribution to One Quote/One Shot Book 2! Many thanks to @balfeheughlywed and @notevenjokingfic for organizing this event yet again - you two are rock stars. My quote is included in the story below in bold.

As for the story, it’s been in my head for quite some time to write a very specific high school au - a One Tree Hill/Outlander crossover. While the idea of writing another full-fledge story with a complex plot seemed very daunting, writing a series of one shots felt a little less so. This fic is the first one shot in this crossover series, which I’ve titled Always & Forever. Shout out to my awesome betas/cheerleaders @anoutlandishidea, @notameeksassenach, and @walkinginland for pushing me to get back in the saddle and write this story. If you want some background music while reading, soundtracks for this fic include Style by Taylor Swift and Rewrite The Stars from The Greatest Showman. I hope you all enjoy it!

Rewrite The Stars

Midnight

Pebbles skip across the panes of my bedroom window, cracking like a whip, loud and sharp. Once… then two more times… then once more. The steady staccato of their barrage beats against glass, matching his persistence, his stubbornness. He knows he could just text me - which would be far more discreet than pegging my house with tiny rocks - but he prefers the old-fashioned gesture, says it reminds him of simpler times and grand declarations made with boomboxes raised above one’s head. He doesn’t worry about waking anyone with his racket because he knows I’m alone. Uncle Lamb is gone once again on some fantastical adventure in search of ancient artifacts, and the rest of the street slumbers, blissfully unaware of any impending mischief.

He lobs another pebble, which ricochets off of a shutter and skitters across the roof line below my window. Beneath the waves of bed linen, I roll onto my hip and flip on my bedside lamp, a shining beacon calling out to my lover below…

He’s not actually yours.

I chide myself, hissing at the pain that not only blossoms in my chest from my own cruel reality check but also from my big toe, which finds the corner of a forgotten textbook. I’m a tangle of limbs, all sharp edges and knobby knees. I shimmy into a pair of jeans and slip on my Keds in a completely uncoordinated ballet. A blush creeps up my neck when I realize that he can see the shadows of my not-at-all graceful extremities behind my closed window curtains. With no time for make-up, I bite my lip in hopes it stains the flesh just red enough to give the illusion of lipstick.

My heart hammers against my ribs, and I inhale deeply in a feeble attempt to calm my rattled nerves. I’m shaken to my core before I even step outside. My eyelids slide close as I swallow against the hard lump of self-doubt at the back of my throat.

Buck up, Beauchamp.

With my chin held high, I dramatically toss back the drapes and flick open the locks. The heels of my hands press into the wooden ledge. Whispered curses pepper my tongue when a stray splinter catches the fleshy bit of my palm, but I carry on in spite of the pain. I duck through the narrow opening and push the window sash back into place, all while balancing precariously on my tiptoes. Half sitting, half crouching, I crab-walk down the angled porch roof. When I reach the end, I slide onto my belly and catch the column below with my legs before scampering down the taper with the agile reflexes of a cat. Swaying slightly as I steady myself against the porch railing, I find my footing in the grass below until a low chuckle catches me off guard.

“I didna ken ye were part wee cheetie, Sassenach.”

I swivel quickly on one heel, and the world continues to spin around me even though I’ve stopped moving.

Jamie.

He’s waiting for me, leaning against his black Ford Mustang with his arms folded across his chest and his cock-sure confidence tucked behind his stupid (yet horribly attractive) smirk. His windswept curls are nearly black at night, but the streetlights tinge the tips rose gold, framing his in an angelic halo like some deity (though he’s definitely more devil than god at times). Not one for high fashion, he’s dressed simply in his signature trainers, jeans, and a white T-shirt… the sleeves of which capped the bugle of his bicep just perfectly.

Damn him.

A breeze filters in and lifts the stray curls from my neck, but I still feel warm.

“Hi,” I say weakly. My chin is tucked downward as I watch my own toes scuff the earth, but I peek through my eyelashes, hoping to catch Jamie’s eye. My pulse thunders to life when I realize he hasn’t taken his eyes off of me. Not once.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and I think I might faint.

“I didn’t see Lamb’s car…” he asks as he pushes himself off of his car.

“You wouldn’t,” I interrupt, taking three steps forward before I stop myself from seeming to eager. “He’s not here. Arizona.”

He glances up at my bedroom window and then back at me, his brow furrowing while his question takes form. “But you...”

Pride floods my body, warming me to the tips of my fingers. A small giggle bubbles from my lips as I trot towards him, shaking my head in slight disbelief that I’d actually pulled one over on him. When we meet in the middle of the brick path in front of my house, we pause - a little awkward and mostly unsure of ourselves and the newness of whatever this is exactly. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the fingers of his left hand twitch, fluttering against his thigh. I press my hands to his chest and silence his nerves with a small peck on his cheek before I whisper in his ear.

“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, Fraser.”

~*~

We speed off into the night with only the moon and the stars to light our way. Hurtling down back roads in Jamie’s convertible reminds me of a rollercoaster as we peel around hairpin curves and crest mountainous hills before flying down the incline. The radio plays music softly in the background, low enough for us to easily converse over the dulcet melodies but neither one of us speaks. We ride along in silence, with Jamie’s hand resting on the seat mere inches from mine. When he taps his fingers along to the beat, his pinky occasionally brushes mine, and each time, my belly clenches before melting into molten silver.

“Where to?” He asks, breaking through the quietness but keeping his eyes trained on the road in front of him.

His words reach my ears and my brain stutters to start and then suddenly launches ahead like a speeding train. I hadn’t thought about where’d we go. Jamie always randomly picked a place for us to meet - the River Court, Moira’s Cafe after my shift, or one of our houses depending on who’s legal guardian was around (a phrase in which we found both humor and sympathy). Tonight, I blindly dressed and tossed myself out the window without a single question, let alone as where’d we go.

“Anywhere…” I sigh as I shrug my shoulders. The leather beneath me squeaks loudly, emitting a sound that could dissolve only us into a fit of immature laughter.

“Laoghaire is throwing a party,” Jamie suggests casually.

Laoghaire MacKenzie.

The very mention of her name turns my stomach sour. We whip around another turn, and I’m caught off guard. My knuckles turn white from gripping the door handle as I try to swallow back the bile that’s flooded my mouth. Memories flood my vision of the last party I attended with Laoghaire MacKenzie in attendance: special trinkets and secret letters revealed for all to see… Jamie and I further divided by the cruel hierarchy of the high school caste system… my tears masked by a steaming shower later that night while I sobbed from the embarrassment of it all.

I wouldn’t dare be caught in her presence unguarded again.

“Anywhere but there,” I request, my voice as sharp as the turn Jamie takes down a hidden, one lane road before I can even finish speaking.

~*~

“What is this place?” I ask as we roll to a stop, half afraid Jamie’s brought me up here to fulfill some psychopathic, horror movie fantasy, half in awe of the beautiful sight before me.

The thick forest gave way to a clearing, jagged branches breaking off to reveal a small, wooden structure and a sky of winking stars overhead. As I slam the heavy metal car door behind me, a breeze rustles the leaves, making me shiver in its cool wake. I know we are somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains from the way the once flat roads rose to startlingly steep hills, but I didn’t have the foresight to grab a jacket. Completely unphased, Jamie jogs ahead of me and takes the steps at the front porch two at a time.

“My grandfather’s,” he explains as he jimmies open the first lock. The screeching of ancient metal tumblers echoes throughout the clearing, disturbing the peaceful night and doing little to sway my mind from more macabre paranoia.

Rubbing warmth into my arms with my palms, I say through chattering teeth, “I didn’t realize you were so close with him that you’d have a key.”

Every shred of confidence I had before is gone, leaving me a shaking and stuttering nervous wreck.

“I doubt he’ll mind…” he grumbles as he negotiates the second lock to open and the heavy, timber door swings open on creaking hinges. “He’s dead.”

Well, that’s comforting.

“You know, this is how most scary movies start…” I rock back on my heels as I nervously ramble. “Guy takes girl up to his cabin far from civilization… lulls her into a false sense of security… and BAM! He turns out to be a serial killer or a werewolf or...something!”

In the moonlight, Jamie’s blue eyes twinkle with mirth as the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a slight smirk.

“No werewolves here, Sassenach,” he promises as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and ushers me inside. “But I might just have to take a bite out of you.”

He tucks his head into the crook of neck and nips at the sensitive flesh there. My half-delighted, half-terrified squeals peal through the night air, and suddenly, I’m not so cold anymore.

~*~

We’re not inside long. Jamie quickly gathers supplies and deposits them into a basket for easy carrying: a thick, plaid blanket, a bottle of whisky, and a flashlight.

While he’s preoccupied, I acquaint myself with my surroundings. I take note of the wide, hand-scraped floor boards and the large boulders stacked tall to form the fireplace. The entire space smells faintly of wood smoke from long forgotten fires and greasy lanolin from well loved sweaters. Above the raw timber mantel rests a hand-carved sign, the words Fraser’s Ridge etched into the marker.

As my hand lifts to trace the letters with my fingertips, Jamie materializes beside me and beckons me to join him outside. We walk out into the night with his fingers intertwined with mine.

Fifty yards behind the cabin, the earth suddenly drops into oblivion. I’m sure the views are spectacular in daylight, but tonight the night sky steals the breath from my lungs. The inky shadows of the geography below layer the scenery in varying shades of purple. Wine-stained hills roll down the ravine and eggplant colored silhouettes of tree tops dot the horizon. Above us, the heavens explode with starlight, thousands sparkling crystals spattered across a velvety indigo canvas.

Lost in the beauty of this place, I hardly notice Jamie, who has brought a roaring fire to life with little else but his bare hands and some kindling. The warmth of the flames draws me back from the cliff’s edge as I wander closer to the hearth. Halved-logs surround the fire pit in a circle, the make-shift benches just wide enough for two to share. I sink into the empty space besides Jamie, and he wraps us both in the thick, woolen tartan before offering me a tin cup. In comfortable silence, we casually sip our whisky as we lose ourselves in the glistening nightscape above our heads.

“See that grouping of stars just to the west?” Jamie whispers. His lips graze the outer shell of my ear, and my skin erupts into goosebumps at the sensation. I nestle closer into the crook of his arm as he continues.

The low hum of his voice lulls me into sleepy complacency. His Scottish burr rumbles deep in his chest and vibrates against my ribs like a purring kitten. Despite the chill of the autumn air, warmth tingles throughout my entire body to the very tips of my toes. My head is thick and fuzzy partially from the late hour, but mostly from the nearly empty cup in my lap (my third helping of whisky).

Jamie’s voice carries on steadily, never once wavering as he teaches me about the constellations - a twist on our normal tutor/student relationship. With each formation, he explains the mythology behind them. Canis Major and Canis Minor. Hercules and Hydra. Orion and Scorpius. Like most Scots, he’s a born storyteller with a gift to color any tale with vivid language and dramatic pauses, and I’m completely captivated. As he speaks of the lovers Perseus and Andromeda, his hand cups my cheek and tilts my face towards his. I blink, my eyelids fluttering open and close as I lean towards him. His lips hover inches from mine, when my brain decides to intervene.

What exactly are you doing, Beauchamp?!

I press my hands against Jamie’s chest, pushing him away and pressing myself backwards as I mumble “Not so fast, soldier.”

“What’s wrong?” Jamie asks, but I’m untangle my limbs from the blanket and stand up before I can stop to answer him.

Propelled by doubt, my legs stumble over the bench and march back towards the cabin. Fear settles into a lead pit in my stomach. Its icy fingers trace frost-laden trails down my spine, and before long I’m shaking… from the cold… from the bone-weary uneasiness that has never left the back of my mind.

What on earth does Jamie Fraser - the most popular guy in school - want with me?

“Claire!” He shouts over the crunching of leaves beneath his feet as he chases after me. “Will ye even tell me what I did to offend ye?”

I spin on my heel and charge towards him, ignoring the loose curls that sharply smack against my face.

“What you did?” I scream back. “The rumor mill is churning with all sorts of stories about you, Fraser.”

I’m bluffing for the most part. Sure, everyone talks about Jamie Fraser - star point guard and hottest boy in the junior class. Who wouldn’t? But no one is exactly sharing these stories with me. I am now a part of these stories, a starring role at times even. The clumsy nerd Jamie’s taken to his bed. To most, I’m a charity case or the unfortunate consequence of a lost bet. To all, I could never be worthy of the title girlfriend.

Jamie stops and sighs, his head dropping to his chest. He clutches the blanket wrapped around his shoulders a little tighter as he asks, “What have ye heard?”

What had I heard?

Very little, truth be told. I caught the tale end of a story when I was waiting for Jamie after practice one afternoon. The cheerleaders never thought much of me anyway to consider stopping their mindless chatter as the exited the gym, though I’m certain they meant for me to hear this particular story.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words catch in my throat.

Do you really want to do this?

When our tutoring arrangement turned into something more, we allowed our relationship to develop naturally, albeit secretly. We never once agreed on titles or labels; we never even stopped to have the conversation. It crossed my mind plenty of times - when we’d search for a new secret spot to meet or when we passed each other in the halls without nothing more than a quick glance. And yet, each time I stopped myself, my inner cheerleader chastising me for being less than cool. It was easier this way… or so I thought.

“That you’ve been out with some other girl…” I admit quietly, my voice cracking along with my heart as I finally allow myself to feel the bitter sting of betrayal.

Jamie reaches for me, his own voice shaking as he speaks. “It’s no’ what ye think…”

“Oh it isn’t, is it?” I scoff as I shuffle backwards. My heels collide with something solid and rough behind me as my palms find the lip of a concrete ledge.

“Damn it, Claire, d’ye have to do this all the time?” he demands.

“In a word - yes,” I say, sinking exhaustedly onto the rim of an ornamental fountain.

From my perch, I watch Jamie seethe before me. Tempered rage boils beneath his flushed cheeks, and I imagine steam billowing from his ears. The fingers of his left hand drum a steady tattoo against his thigh as he chews his bottom lip. The tempo matches the beat of my racing heart.

Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. Release.

“Who?” He asks after an eternity passes.

“Laoghaire.”

Her name blooms on my tongue like poison, sickeningly sweet before turning to bitter ash. The languid L coats my tongue with a thick, syrupy medicine for my own grand delusions; the long E whistles through my gritted teeth, the melody for my own funeral (cause of death - social suicide). My eyelids narrow and I cross my arms over my chest as I wait - for the lie that will grant me sweet relief even if it’s just for one night… for the truth that will certainly destroy me…

Tracing some invisible path on the ground, Jamie’s gaze darts back and forth, but it doesn’t once meet mine.

“Oh…” I choke back a sob that bubbles at the back of my throat. Pushing myself off to the ledge, I rise to leave - the back door to the cabin in my sites.

“It’s no like that!” He roars. His hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls me back, drawing me close to him. His strong arms clasp me tight to his chest, iron bands holding me firmly in place as I struggle to break free.

“Explain it to me then!” I loudly screech into his face, continuing to fight his embrace. “What’s it like, hmm?”

Slowly, Jamie softens. The muscles in his arms relax and his gripping fingers release until his hands are gently palming my hips. The tension in his furrowed brow melts. His shoulders sag, rounding gently inward until his curving around me like the delicate shell of a caterpillar’s cocoon, the tartan blanket protecting us both from the chilly night air.

“What you’ve heard is true,” he whispers, releasing his secret to the universe. “I’ve been out wi’ the lass once or twice but it’s not… I can’t…”

His words stutter and stammer until his finally silent, rendered speechless by a myriad of emotions I watch flash across his eyes. In his own face, I see my own fear and doubt mirrored back at me. I hear a small cracking sound from deep within my chest - my own heart breaking for him… for us...

I brush a stray curl from his temple as I ask him, prompting him where he left off. “Can’t what?”

Suddenly, he looks up at me - eyes wild and bright.

“I can’t stop thinking about this.”

Jamie’s lips are on mine before my subconscious can put up a fight, allowing my heart to fully give in. We are no longer shy or awkward. We are hungry. Dizzy with lust, I steady myself, gripping his shoulders as his tongue laps at my lower lip, begging entrance. Arching into him, I moan against his mouth while my hands palm the muscular planes of his chest. He hooks his thumbs into my belt loops and jerks me forward, our hips colliding in delicious friction. As I press into him once more, our uncoordinated efforts to climb inside the other’s skin knock the tartan loose from our bodies. Jamie shouts at the sudden shock to his system, and I whimper in the cold.

While he gathers the discarded blanket from the ground, I shyly whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about it either… us… I mean.”

Once he’s fully upright, Jamie pauses. He stands before me. He holds the blanket bunched in his palms, and the flesh of his low belly is bare, the hem of his shirt rucked up over his hip. Perfectly disheveled, I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so beautiful in my whole life… and I think I could maybe love this boy.

Gently, he wraps the tartan around my shoulders. When he steps towards me, I return the favor and nestle us both beneath the thick wool.

He presses a kiss to my forehead as he mumbles into my hair.

“We best get ye inside, Sassenach. Yer shiverin.”

~*~

Daylight catches us by surprise, even though we sleep well past noon. Well, at least I do. When I finally untangle myself from the mountains of bed sheets and stumble my way out into the land of the living, I find Jamie outside once more.

“That looks like a nutritious breakfast,” I comment as I walk towards him, noting the red and blue box of Cracker Jack clutched in his fist.

“S’all I could find,” he mutters between bites.

I sit down next to him, and he tilts the box towards me, sharing his meager meal. We sit quietly munching on the crispy snacks. In the daylight, I can now see the brilliant shades of autumn across the valley below. Deep burgundy, brilliant copper, and shining gold all merge together as one against the forget-me-not blue sky. There’s not a cloud in sight, and the warm sun replaces the bitter chill from the night before.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Jamie as we eat. He’s comfortable up here in the mountains, relaxed and naturally himself - for someone I thought of as a true city boy. He’s at peace as the ruler of his own domain with no one for miles.

This is my Jamie - the real Jamie.

It doesn’t take long to finish our breakfast. A small box of Cracker Jack is no match for two hungry and hung-over teens. Jamie’s fingers dive in once more, reaching for the bottom in search of crumbs. Instead, he unearths a bracelet. It’s clearly meant for a child with its mismatched, brightly colored beads strung along an elastic band. He doesn’t hesitate. He takes my hand and gently threads the bracelet onto my wrist before pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

Fin.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #one book one shot book 2 #rewrite the stars #witchie words #jamie x claire #outlander/one tree hill cross over #always & forever au

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