#this is a long shot i know but if anyone has a magic trick or smt i guess its worth a shot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caramelarrowswife · 3 months ago

Note

hiii! i really enjoy reading your purecacao fanfiction you’re one of the only people on tumblr feedjng me right now ☹️ your work is amazing!!

also uhhh sneaky request perhaps a purecacao fic where they both try and train each other in their respective fields? it would be really cool to see the contrast between them, warrior, healer etc also it could be some cute bonding time!

thanks and keep writing :3

New Talents

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Dark Cacao Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie were both respected and honoured in their unique abilities. A king who could wield a sword like no other, and a healer that could mend broken bones within minutes…

Yet, there was one recurring problem in the Dark Cacao Kingdom; a lack of medical herbs. Learning a little magic never hurt anyone, right..?

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

PART 1 - HEALING

“Your Majesty!” A servant came rushing into the king’s office, startling the latter into looking up. “Your visitor has arrived, sire! He is earlier than expected-”

“Of course he is,” Dark Cacao Cookie said with a sigh, rising to his feet. “He always is. Lead the way.”

The servant nodded nervously, having to jog slightly to keep up with the long strides the latter took.

The servant and his master parted ways only when they arrived at the grand courtyard of the Citadel, where a massive cacao tree grew. It was both the biggest and oldest tree that grew in the entire kingdom; it had served as a primary income of cacao beans for many centuries.

There, under the shade of the tree, waited a figure that stood out against the cold and dark of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. His hair was blonde, his robes as white as snow and his cape a cheerful golden brown.

The newcomer’s eyes, opened just now, appeared to be mismatched; one as blue as a clear sky, and the other as yellow as the sun that shone in it.

“Dark Cacao Cookie, my friend!” Pure Vanilla Cookie said happily as the taller approached. “Oh, what a pleasure it is to see you healthy!”

“I wouldn’t describe my current state as ‘healthy’,” Dark Cacao hummed in reply. “These are the hardest months of the year… we cannot afford to waste resources on small injuries, even if said injuries start to infect.”

“Oh.” Pure Vanilla was silent for a second, before smiling again. “Well, my dear, how about I teach you a little trick? Everyone can learn magic, and the only resource it takes is your patience!”

“Yes, because I have so much of that,” Dark Cacao said drily. He removed his left glove anyway.

Pure Vanilla sucked air in sharply. The injury wasn’t large and could definitely be treated, but he could imagine the pain it brought the king..

“Accidental stab wound,” Dark Cacao murmured. “Held my blade the wrong way when sharpening my sword. It cut my palm.”

Pure Vanilla tsk-ed, holding Dark Cacao’s hand in his own. “Watch very carefully, and I’ll show you what you must do.”

Dark Cacao nodded, trying to focus on the magic and not on the fact those pretty eyes had closed again. “I’m listening.”

“Hold your hand above the injury, but do not touch it! I want you to imagine the energy streaming from your very core to your torso, to your arms, to your palm. Imagine using the energy to heal the wound, imagine your body fighting to close again.”

Dark Cacao grunted in reply, all his focus on the tingling of magic he could feel in his palm.

“Very good.. and now, for the final step..”

Dark Cacao’s eyes sharpened, fully prepared to do whatever was asked of him-

“Say ‘abrakadabra’.”

“No,” Dark Cacao deadpanned. “I’m not an idiot, Pure Vanilla. I know that is not how it works.”

“Worth a shot,” Pure Vanilla giggled, his eyes squinting in amusement. Dark Cacao felt his anger seep away. Damn that healer.

When Dark Cacao started repeating the earlier (valid) steps, he was mildly amazed to find his wound actually closing up. He knew Pure Vanilla was an extremely powerful healer, but he wasn’t aware of his teaching ability.

“..thank you,” Dark Cacao said, the corners of his mouth raised ever-so-slightly.

“Anytime, my friend!” Pure Vanilla said, beaming with happiness at the small smile he had been graced with.

PART 2 - FIGHTING

Dark Cacao had promised he’d repay Pure Vanilla when the latter left for his homeland, and he was a man to his word. So, here he was, on the training field, pulling out the old practice dummies.

Pure Vanilla sat on a nearby bench, watching him prepare the area. Sure, the healer was very innocent, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate his partner’s nice physique as he worked.

“These,” Dark Cacao said after he was done, tapping the eyes, the neck and the torso, “Are the best places to hit an enemy. A stab or punch to the eyes will momentarily disoriented and blind them, giving you a chance for a new attack. The neck is very important, too; a well-placed stab through the vocal cords or the windpipe, and you’ve won your battle.”

Pure Vanilla nodded, studying the dummy in front of him with a slightly tilted head. His orchid-like staff rested on the bench beside him, its eye focused on the explanation up front.

“There are multiple weak spots on the torso,” Dark Cacao continued. “The middle of the chest might seem logical, but it can be very hard to reach the heart; if you do it exactly right, your weapon might slip through the ribs, but it’s unlikely.”

Pure Vanilla hummed softly, indicating he was listening. It had been ages since he heard his lover talk so much and so passionately about something; they both knew Pure Vanilla wouldn’t need this information all too much, but it was nice to listen to Dark Cacao’s rant.

“Instead of going for the heart, go for the groin or abdomen. You, being a healer, know where the vital organs are - when faced with danger, always aim for those.” Dark Cacao threw Pure Vanilla the wooden sword trainees would use. “Go ahead, give me your worst.”

Pure Vanilla raised his eyebrows. “Am I not to practice on the dummy?”

“Ah, I doubt you can do much harm with that sword. I have a protective layer under my hanbok.”

“Hm.. very well, then,” Pure Vanilla said, standing up. He circled Dark Cacao for a few seconds, like he had seen the latter do so many times in battle, before striking. The blow was easily deflected.

Pure Vanilla’s eyes narrowed. Dark Cacao wasn’t going easy on him, then. Well, if that was the game they were playing…

Pure Vanilla lunged again, aiming for the other’s stomach - only, at the last moment, he changed his direction and went for the back of Dark Cacao’s knees. The usually stoic king let out a yelp as his legs gave in.

Dark Cacao clearly hadn’t expected such a strategy from a beginner, his eyes wide in surprise as he was knocked to the floor. He only realised what was happening when he felt Pure Vanilla sit on him to hold him down.

With a quiet (and very rare) chuckle, Dark Cacao pushed him off. “Okay, okay, enough, we’re not wrestling.”

Dark Cacao stood up, straightening his clothes before looking back at a proud Pure Vanilla, and he wasn’t shocked to feel pleased instead of angry.

“That was a very nice attack,” Dark Cacao admitted. “But if I had known what you were doing, I would’ve stopped you-!”

Pure Vanilla laughed, a joyful sound. He picked his staff again, throwing his wooden sword at Dark Cacao’s feet. “If you say so, my dear.. I can see you didn’t expect me to have any talent, hm?”

“That’s not- I did not-” Dark Cacao protested.

“I know,” Pure Vanilla chuckled. “I’m only joking..”

Standing on his toes to reach Dark Cacao’s cheek, Pure Vanilla surprised him for the second time that day; a small kiss was pressed to his face.

Despite the cold around them, Dark Cacao could feel a warmth rising to his cheeks…

#dark cacao cookie #pure vanilla cookie #purecacao #cookie run kingdom #fanfiction #dark cacao x pure vanilla #dark cacao kingdom #pure vanilla crk #cookie run #mimi writes ୨୧ #dark cacao #pure vanilla

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honeybummer · 3 months ago

Text

NO SAINTS HERE - on A03 Pairing: Spawn Astarion x Fem!OC/Tav

Summary/Setting: Tav cheats on Wyll with Astarion when Wyll cannot satisfy her needs

Word count - 6k

Rating: EXPLICIT

The camp was silent, the night air cooling and crisp. But Tav didn't want to be cooled. She was sick of being cooled.

She stormed out of her tent. Well... her and Wyll's tent. She hadn't set up a solo one in several days.

She wrapped her arms around herself, even though it wasn't fairly cold. She glared up at the stars, as if they were somehow to blame.

Frustration boiled in her chest. Six weeks on the road with the group. Four of them with Wyll. Four weeks, and he still didn't get her. Still didn't learn her body enough to—

“You’ll have a trench dug by sunrise at this rate,” came a voice from the darkness.

She almost tripped as she spun around. And there sat Astarion. Lounging by the fire, a book in his lap. His red eyes glinted in the blazing firelight, silver hair curling effortlessly. It always did.

As if he could be described as anything other than a devil.

“I didn’t think anyone else was awake,” Tav said, trying to steady her breath quickly. She didn't have time for the vampire and his usual tricks.

“And yet, here I am. Vampires aren’t much for sleep, darling.” He studied her. “Now, what’s got our fearless leader storming about like a bull?”

She shook her head and resumed pacing. “It’s nothing. Go back to your scheming.”

“Darling, my scheming can wait. You look about ready to burst into flames.” He snapped his book shut, leaning in with a smirk. “Go on, then. Misery does adore an audience.”

Tav huffed and started toward the forest, hoping the cool air might clear her head. Maybe a walk, or a dip in the lake—

“Let me guess,” Astarion drawled from behind her, lazily amused. “Our ever-gallant warlock has done something to ruffle your feathers. Am I close?”

“Just forget it,” she muttered, picking up her pace.

As if by magic, he appeared in front of her. His hands clasped neatly behind his back, eyes glinting. “You’re practically humming with frustration. Unmet needs, perhaps?”

Her cheeks burned. “I’m not—this isn’t—”

How could he know?

Astarion circled her. “You’re practically radiating unfulfilled desires.”

Tav turned away, embarrassed. “Astarion, please.” She didn’t want to discuss this with him—or anyone.

“Please what?” He smirked, leaning in closer. “Please stop? Or please keep going?”

Tav nearly clamped her hands over his mouth. “Keep your voice down!”

Then, just as smoothly, his pushed her touch away, his grin softened, voice dipping into something almost kind. “Oh, don’t pout. I’m only teasing. If you need a willing ear, I’m right here.”

Tav sighed, the fight seeping out of her. She retreated and sank onto a log near the fire, accepting the bottle of wine he offered. The first swig was long, the burn grounding her.

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, wiping her mouth. “Just me being selfish.”

Astarion settled beside her. “You? Selfish? Hardly. Though, I suppose spending too much time with him might have that effect.”

She shot him a glare, unamused. Astarion didn’t like Wyll, but he didn’t like anyone , really—maybe her, on rare occasions.

“He just…ugh, I can’t talk to you about this.”

Astarion lifted the wine to her lips again, and she took another sip. And another. Gods, she wanted to drown her sorrows tonight.

“How often does he leave you wanting?” he asked, voice soft, almost conspiratorial.

“How did you know?”

“You keep fidgeting. If he’d made you come once or twice like a normal partner, you wouldn’t be this tense.”

He took the wine back and Tav groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I cannot believe I’m having this conversation.” Her female needs were none of his business.

“Does he leave you wanting often?”

Tav swallowed, the guilt curling in her stomach.

She exhaled sharply. “He…he fell asleep.”

Astarion’s laughter was rich and delighted.

Tav snatched the wine back, taking a long swig. “You better not tell anyone.”

“Oh, please.” He waved a dismissive hand. “This is too delicious to share. But really—our gallant Wyll, falling asleep midway? Tragic.”

She sighed. “He’s wonderful in so many ways," she admitted. "But when it comes to intimacy…he just doesn’t quite get it.”

Wyll's kindness was something only a fool could ignore.

That first night...by the fire...when everyone else was asleep. He'd asked her to dance after a night of drinking, and she’d accepted. When he’d eventually asked for a kiss, she’d given it.

Suddenly, something had changed in his expression. He had looked hopeful, painstakingly so. And she had pulled away.

When he had looked so sad at the rejection, she relented.

The next night, he’d asked her on a proper date, and she hadn’t the heart to refuse. Not when the nights were so lonely.

The first time he touched her, it had felt nice—at first. It had been so long since she had felt anyone’s hands on her that even the smallest touch had sent sparks through her veins. But then his rhythm faltered, his thrusts erratic. Her body had cooled, and she had lost the tempo.

And then he had finished—and fallen asleep.

He hadn’t even asked if she had come.

The next time he tried, he had pressed his fingers against her, clumsy and hopeful. It hadn’t worked. It never worked.

And she never faked it, either.

But what boiled her blood was the fact that Wyll knew . He knew she hadn’t finished, and still, he had simply gone to sleep . Like it didn’t matter.

She would never do that to him. Never take her own pleasure and leave him wanting.

Astarion’s voice cut through her thoughts. “How unfortunate.”

Tav snorted and drank more wine.

“Perhaps…I could be of some assistance?”

Tav looked at him, stunned. “What?”

Astarion leaned in. She was reminded how earth-shatteringly gorgeous he was. “You need release. I need something to occupy my time. And I do have an impressive repertoire…”

Her breath caught.

“Unless you’d rather trudge back to your tent and spend another night wanting?”

Tav looked away. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. Such a shame to let you go to waste.” He said it with a long look from her legs to her flushed face.

She shook her head. “I…I’m with Wyll.”

Astarion only watched her.

“I could never do that to him. He’s too…good.”

He shrugged, like none of it mattered. “Yes, yes, the noble Blade of Frontiers—so devoted, so honorable. But tell me, darling, how devoted can he be if you’re still left wanting?”

Tav stiffened. Her hand tightened around the bottle. “That’s not fair.”

“It is, though.” He moved a little closer. Their legs touched. “Why should you be the one to go without?”

The fire threw shadows across his face. It made him look... sharp. Not soft, not safe.

“Desire shouldn’t be a punishment, darling. And look at you...so loyal, and yet so unsatisfied."

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. Didn’t answer. But he saw it anyway—the pause, the breath she held a second too long.

“Tell me something,” he said quietly. “Has anyone ever worshipped you? Made you forget your name from a single touch?”

She crossed her legs. Too quick.

Astarion hummed, low in his throat. “No?” A small, almost pitying sound. “What a shame.”

His hand brushed her arm. Light, but electric.

“I could show you. Ruin you in the most exquisite way.” His voice dropped. “And you'd thank me for it.”

She blinked hard. “You don’t even like me.”

He laughed. “Sweet girl,” he said. “You think that matters?”

He leaned in. Close enough she could feel the words against her skin.

“Liking is overrated. I’ve been adored without ever being loved, and look how well I turned out. Liking isn't the point. Wanting is."

Fingers grazed her collarbone. She didn’t move.

“And gods, do I want you.”

He pulled back just a little. Just enough to look her in the eye. Then he tilted her chin up.

“Be honest with me,” he said. “You’d rather go back to your tent aching, just because you think I have to like you first?”

She shouldn’t fall for it. She knew what he was. What he could do. What he’d been taught.

But—

Her stomach flipped. Heat curling low.

“I—” She let out a shaky breath, reaching for something—anything—to ground her. “I shouldn’t—”

“Oh, love. Why not?”

She met his eyes. Big mistake. Red, endless. Full of things she shouldn’t want but did.

“Tell me,” he said, voice just a whisper, mouth inches from hers. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her heart thudded so hard it hurt.

She should say yes. She should.

The fire cracked behind them, but the heat in her chest wasn’t from that. It was him. His voice, his smell, his cold fingers brushing against her skin.

“I could make this easy for you,” he murmured. His mouth was so close. “Wouldn’t have to do a thing.”

Her breath stuttered. Her fingers curled.

“All you’d need to do…” he breathed, “is open those pretty legs for me…”

She trembled. Hard.

“Just lean back…”

Tav bit her lip.

“Ans let me have you.”

And that was it.

With a sharp breath, she grabbed his collar and kissed him hard.

He groaned—deep and hungry—and it wrecked her. His hands were everywhere at once, one in her hair, the other pulling her flush to him.

Gods.

He kissed her like he’d been waiting forever. Like he needed it to breathe. His lips moved against hers, insistent, his fangs grazing her bottom lip—she whimpered.

Astarion growled.

Next thing she knew, she was on her back. The firelight danced over him as he hovered, lips swollen, eyes wild. “There we go,” he muttered, breathless.

Then he was kissing her again—harder, deeper, tongue sliding against hers, hands all over. Her waist. Her back. Her thighs.

She was burning alive.

His cold fingers found skin under her shirt, light as air but it made her whole body shudder.

“Cold?” he asked, lips brushing hers, grinning like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Or is it something else?”

Another shiver, and he pressed his hips to hers, just enough to make her gasp.

He chuckled, low and pleased. “Oh, sweet girl,” he said, kissing down her jaw. “I need to feel you.”

Tav squeezed her eyes shut. Tried to think. To remember why she shouldn’t.

But with his mouth on her neck, his hands moving like she was the only thing that existed—

She stopped caring.

Except.

There was a rustling nearby.

Tav scrambled out from under Astarion and stood, panting, as her worst fears clawed their way forward.

The flap of Wyll’s tent rustled, and he stepped into view, rubbing his eyes. His gaze swept the camp and landed on them by the fire.

“Tav?” he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep as he approached.

She wiped at her lips, trying to appear composed. Astarion, of course, remained infuriatingly calm, reclining on his elbows with a lazy smirk.

“Tav?” he asked again, concern already creeping in. “Is everything alright?”

She swallowed hard, her pulse thrumming. But then—relief. He didn’t look suspicious, just groggy and confused.

Before she could answer, Astarion cut in.

“I woke her,” he said, smooth as silk. “I needed to feed.”

Wyll’s brows pulled together, glancing between them. “So you thought it best to rouse her in the dead of night?”

“She offered, of course,” Astarion added with a careless wave. “I’m not in the habit of refusing a lady’s kindness.” A glint of fang accompanied his grin. “We were just about to get started.”

Tav nearly choked.

“She needs her sleep,” Wyll muttered. “It’s late and I—”

“Oh, no need for that,” Astarion interrupted, amused. “Tav was very eager to help.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, deceptively light—until she felt the pressure. “And you know how these things go. Could take a while.”

Tav clenched her jaw.

Wyll rubbed his forehead. “Just… be careful, alright?” He looked at her then, something gentle in his eyes. “Don’t let him take too much.”

Astarion feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “What do you take me for? A savage?”

Wyll didn’t answer. He just sighed and turned back to his tent. “Wake me if you need anything. Either of you.”

As soon as he disappeared, Tav spun to face Astarion.

“What in the hells was that?”

He grinned. “That, my dear, was me saving our hides.”

“By implying we were—busy?”

He shrugged, all elegance. “Weren’t we?”

She opened her mouth to argue—then shut it again.

Astarion leaned in, voice low and dark. “Now then. We should put on a little show, don’t you think?” His fingers ghosted her neck.

“This is what you offered, after all.”

“Fine,” she muttered, baring her neck.

But he didn’t move.

“I bought us some time. Let’s go.” He took her arm and pulled her into the trees.

“Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer, leading her deeper into shadow, moonlight slicing through the canopy in thin shards.

They passed the waterfall—its noise a cloak, a risk. She couldn’t hear if anything followed.

“Astarion,” she tried again, breathless.

He suddenly turned and pressed her back against a tree, hands braced beside her head.

“I thought you wanted to be fed on?” he murmured.

“I—” But he was already leaning in, his nose brushing her jaw.

His lips trailed down her neck, in a way she'd never felt. Deliciously slow.

“I could take my time with you,” he whispered. “Taste you properly.”

Tav’s breath hitched, hands curling at her sides.

He chuckled. “Oh, my sweet girl.” His tongue flicked over her pulse. Her knees buckled.

He caught her, his hands firm at her waist.

“Careful now,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t want you collapsing before we even start.”

Then—he kissed her.

No teasing. No games.

Just hunger.

Tav gasped as he pulled her against him, his mouth soft but insistent. One hand gripped her waist, the other slipping beneath her shirt.

She melted into him, her restraint unraveling. Astarion’s fingers moved with precision, every touch deliberate, every breath a tease.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered. “And I will.”

She didn’t.

His hands roamed, his touch cool against her heated skin. Her breath stuttered as he found the places that made her tremble, his hand dipping into her trousers.

Fuck.

He found her center, cool fingers grazing her heat.

“You’re exquisite like this,” he said, fingers still working her over, his body a wall against her back. “Soft. Desperate.”

Her breath came fast, heat pooling low in her belly. She was far past rational thought.

He kissed her again, deep and lingering.

“Would you like me to finish what I started, darling?”

Tav nodded, barely able to speak.

Astarion's mouth brushed her ear as his fingers moved in slow, expert circles over her aching clit.

Just right.

Tight little circles.

She gasped in a breath to say ‘faster’, but he already knew.

And then she was clutching his arms, legs weak as she tried to keep herself up. The warmth curled and curled, the pleasure so close to breaking and—

Astarion pulled away.

Tav gasped out a horrendous whine and looked up at him. He smiled.

“Oh darling, I almost got you there, didn’t I? And, oh, how easy it was. I had you falling apart with your clothes still on.”

Tav huffed, suddenly angry. He was making fun of her. He probably never wanted to sleep with her at all. Just to laugh at her.

But then Astarion was lifting her shirt over her head and grabbing her waist.

And then she was on her back.

The forest floor was cool beneath her, icy in its sudden shock. Astarion hovered above, pale and hungry, and then—his mouth was on her neck. Not biting. Kissing. Tracing slowly along her throat before drifting lower—across her collarbone, down the slope of her sternum.

When his tongue flicked across her navel, she jolted. Her hips bucked without her damn permission.

He laughed, a deep, pleased sound that curled low in her gut.

“So eager,” he murmured, fingers curling into the waistband of her pants, tugging just enough to tease.

“Will you be quiet for me, darling?” he asked.

She shook her head, breathless. No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

Astarion groaned — low, dark, delighted — and her pants were gone.

His hands were everywhere, mapping every inch of newly exposed skin. His mouth followed, trailing heat in its wake, and when his lips finally—finally—settled between her thighs, she lost any hope of staying quiet.

The first lick was like the rapture.

Her back arched off the ground, a moan ripping from her throat. She clung to his shoulders, the only anchor she had as he worked her open with his tongue. He licked up her center, then circled her clit with maddening patience.

"Astarion, please," she begged.

And then a miserable whine slipped from her mouth. Followed by an unfortunate admission: "Don’t stop."

A finger slid inside her — smooth, sure. Her breath caught, her hands diving into his hair just as he added another. The stretch was perfect. So fucking perfect. He curled them, and stars exploded behind her eyelids.

He found the rhythm she didn’t know she needed and stayed with it, coaxing her higher and higher until her entire body clenched, arched, unraveled.

The orgasm wracked her like it had a personal vendetta against her. She came hard, gasping, trembling, blinking up at the canopy as if the trees might understand.

And Astarion just watched her, pleased.

It had been so easy to fall apart for him.

So easy.

And it made sense. He was heartbreakingly beautiful, seductive, and attentive, all at once.

He leaned over her, lips wet, chin gleaming with the evidence of her pleasure. He smiled — all fang and filth.

“I never imagined your cunt would taste as sweet as your blood,” he purred. “But it does.”

She saw it then—the tension in his trousers.

The strain.

Her stomach fluttered, still dizzy from everything he'd just done to her. But he had just made her come harder than she ever had. She was expected to return the favor.

She pushed herself up. “Lie back,” she murmured.

Tav wanted him to be undone just as much as her, if that was even possible.

Astarion hesitated, if only for a moment. He gave in, leaning back, and watched as she clumsily moved forward, meaning to straddle him.

She touched the ties of his trousers and then he was freed.

And, wow. Just...wow.

He was thick, longer than she expected, his cock pale like the rest of him—smooth, veined, flushed with need.

He was far larger than Wyll.

The second her hand wrapped around him, Astarion’s breath caught. His eyes flicked to hers, darker now, pupils blown wide. She stroked him slow, and the slick sound of it made her thighs tighten. One of his hands came up, fingers slipping into her hair.

"I thought I was meant to take care of you,” he said.

“You did.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Let me return the favor.”

He was velvet and steel in her grip, impossibly hard. She was captivated by the way his pale skin moved over his glistening head. The head of his cock was so swollen with blood it looked purple.

She ran her thumb over his head, licking her lips, wishing she could taste him. Gods, he would fill her mouth completely. She could hardly imagine how he would fit inside her.

“Tav,” Astarion groaned, hips twitching beneath her hand.

She pumped him again in her hand, squeezing harder.

His hands flew to her hips, fingers digging into her skin. “If you do not mount me, I will fuck you myself.”

Her whole body shivered at the delicious threat.

She smirked, letting him see the spark in her eyes. Is this what power finally felt like? She gave him a few more hard strokes, but he growled low in his throat and shifted, lifting her, guiding her over him.

Scrambling, Tav braced her hands on his chest, trying to regain control. But Astarion pulled her down without warning, and the blunt head of his cock pressed hotly against her entrance.

“Wait—”

Astarion leaned in and nipped at her neck. “I am a man of my word, Tav. Now sit.”

Tav swallowed and lowered herself gently. There was pressure as his head pushed against her. His thick cock bowed slightly at the pressure, and then it slid inside. Just an inch.

Immediately she felt that burning stretch.

She had felt it once. One night, when she wasn’t very aroused, Wyll had pushed himself inside her while she was still dry.

But she wasn’t dry this time. She was dripping wet, and Astarion still stretched her.

The vampire’s eyes locked onto hers, his expression unguarded as he watched her struggle—watching her intently as she slowly, slowly descended onto him.

Tav's body trembled, every nerve ending on fire as she tried to ease herself down. Astarion's girth stretched her. Even with how wet she was. She hadn't felt this full before. It was almost like he was carving new space into her.

She bit her lip against a scream, and for a moment, she froze.

Astarion’s hand slid up from her hip, fingers threading through her hair again, softer this time. He leaned in, his voice low against her ear.

“Easy, my sweet. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

Tav's body slowly began to relax at the sound of his voice.

"I won't hurt you, darling."

She took a deep breath and lowered herself further, trying to focus on his words as more of him filled her until she was seated fully upon him. She was unbearably full.

Her eyes watered from the intensity of it all.

"You see, darling?" Astarion sighed against her neck. "I told you it wouldn't hurt."

She let out a noise.

“Yet,” he hissed.

He bucked into her to prove his point.

She let out a guttural moan that could never be described as feminine or attractive. She attempted to lean forward, making it easier for her to control the movements. Up…and…down.

Slowly.

It was all she could take.

Astarion's hands gripped her waist, almost too tightly. His hips rose to meet each of her thrusts. Soft at first.

And then harder. Deeper.

Her forehead met his as they continued, skin glistening, bodies tightening.

“Gods,” she muttered, breathing heavily as she clutched him tightly. He felt incredible, so fucking incredible. She had never in her life felt like this. Sex was usually just bearable. Something for her to grit her teeth through and wait for it to be done. Only a few times had she ever come with a man. And well...

Astarion sat up more, using one arm to wrap around her waist so he could better control the movements, and she knew he knew what he was doing.

He was a master at it.

So, when he angled himself differently against her, hitting a sensitive spot, Tav whined so loud she was sure the camp might hear.

Tav’s head fell back, breath hitching in short, uneven gasps as she moved on top of him. Astarion’s hands gripped her hips, helping her find a rhythm. His mouth didn’t stay still—pressing against her throat, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. Now and then his teeth grazed her skin.

She wanted more, so much more.

She could already feel the memory of his teeth piercing her flesh. Taking her blood, her body, her-

And then—

“Tav?”

The voice cut through the night.

Astarion went still beneath her.

Wyll.

A sickening wave of realization crashed over her. What was she doing ?

Wyll was kind. Wyll was good . And he didn’t deserve this.

She scrambled off Astarion, nearly toppling over in her rush. He let out a soft, amused tsk but didn’t try to stop her. Her pulse was a frantic drum against her ribs.

The crunch of boots on leaves sent a fresh jolt of panic through her. Wyll was walking nearby.

Tav dropped low, crouching behind a thick patch of brush just as his silhouette emerged. The lantern in his hand swung, its light cutting through the trees and catching on the tense line of his brow.

He was several feet away.

“Where did you go…?” Wyll’s voice was low, more puzzled than alarmed. He glanced from side to side. Those mismatched eyes scanned the shadows, but there was no edge of suspicion in his face—at least, not yet.

Tav held her breath, barely daring to move.

She was yanked backward so fast her chest hit the dirt, flattening her breasts.

"A-"

A hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her dire protests.

“Hush. We wouldn’t want your sweet, ignorant beau to see you being ridden by a dangerous vampire,” he whispered.

What was he…?

His body climbed over hers, his knee spreading her thighs. Her heart pounded as she saw Wyll slightly turn his head in their direction.

His lips brushed against her ear. “He’s so close,” Astarion murmured, his hips shifting against her in a slow, possessive grind.

Oh, fuck.

“Do you think he’d hear you if I made you moan?”

Tav squeezed her eyes shut, her breath escaping in a ragged exhale against his palm. He was insane! Reckless.

The lantern light wavered, flickering through the brush.

Tav felt undeniable pressure against her backside, and then Astarion exhaled in her ear as he slipped inside of her again. His hand muffled her gasp as he pushed himself deeper.

His other hand was braced on the dirt, the veins in his hand raised as his hips pressed against hers.

Astarion was heavier than he looked—bigger, too. Tav shifted, trying to lift her torso, but he pressed her down with ease, his body pinning hers to the earth.

“Shhh,” he breathed against her ear, voice low and syrupy, like a secret meant just for her.

Her throat bobbed as she attempted to swallow.

Astarion's fingers flexed over her mouth. He was savoring this. The tension. The closeness. The delicious edge of danger they danced on, too close to ignore.

Wyll’s lantern swung closer. Tav could see the gleam of his boots through the underbrush. He was only steps away.

They were lucky the waterfall hid some of the noise, but there was no way Wyll wouldn’t hear the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Astarion’s lips moved again, his breath hot against her skin. “Do you think he’d be angry, pet?” he mused. “If he found you like this? Would he be heartbroken?” He punctuated his words with a strong thrust of his hips. “Or simply humiliated?”

Another deep thrust.

Tav clenched her jaw, willing her body to stay still, to not tremble beneath the weight of him. She should be ashamed. She was ashamed. But gods, it was hard to think when Astarion was like this—when he made her feel so alive.

When his cock was sliding through her and it felt electric .

He began to pick up the pace and Tav dug her fingers into the earth,nails biting into pebbles.

Wyll was going to hear.

Through the brush he swung his lantern and walked a few steps to the thicker side of the bushes.

Astarion grinned wickedly, his eyes locked on Wyll's movement. "He might hear you, darling," he whispered, thrusting more forcefully now.

He was fucking her into the earth, just like how a vampire might.

Tav bit her lip. She had to stay calm, focus on keeping quiet. But her walls were clenching, her arousal growing higher and higher.

She had never felt an ascent this intense.

She was going to erupt.

Tav felt Astarion begin to speed up, his movements growing more urgent and desperate. Her name was whispered over and over again from his lips as he plunged deeper into her with every thrust.

A twig snapped to the far side of the forest and Wyll turned his head, and began to walk farther away.

“Finally,” Astarion grunted, and began pounding Tav into the dirt, hand still over her mouth. The slap against skin was audible now. There was no way Wyll couldn’t hear it, even as he was walking away.

Astarion let out a groan, his rhythm faltering for a moment, before picking back up. Faster and faster, like he was just another predator who had caught prey.

His pinky caressed her bottom lip, and she could feel the slickness between them as he pushed himself closer, deeper.

“You know, pet. I said I was going to feed. We have to keep up appearances, don’t we?”

His mouth grazed the back of her shoulder, then up her neck. “Should I bite your scruff while I fuck you in front of your boyfriend? Like a wild beast?”

The shame of it all mingled with the dirty delight that coursed through her veins. Astarion was right; she had never felt anything like this before. The devilish thrill of being caught, the illicit nature of their encounter in front of Wyll... It was too much, too intense.

The pleasure was building, her body coiling tighter and tighter.

Wyll turned around and began walking back toward them.

Her panic flared and she writhed. No, no, no, no, no, no!

Astarion’s hand clamped down harder against her mouth. “Shush darling,” he whispered tightly in her ear. “Can you keep quiet while I bite you?”

They were going to get caught.

She might as well give up.

Her head fell against the floor as her body coiled tighter and tighter and tighter.

Astarion’s teeth sank into the side of her neck, biting part of the muscle in her shoulder. The pain was more intense than when he first bit her all those nights ago.

She bit his own hand, body shaking.

Wyll had gone still. The lantern in his hand swayed gently, its light throwing long, twitching shadows across the forest floor. Tav could almost feel the warmth of it brushing her skin—too close. Any second now, he might turn his head. He might see them.

The thought was almost too much for her to bear.

In that moment, Astarion gave a deep thrust, and she felt his cock swell slightly, and his seed erupted inside her.

The heat was unlike anything she had felt before, the pressure of his come making her walls flutter and clench.

Her body reached its peak, the pleasure came in beautiful, powerful waves, and she cried out in spite of herself.

Astarion’s hand instantly tightened on her mouth.

The sound was small, muffled, but it was there.

As if on cue, Wyll whirled around. Astarion stopped moving completely, but his cock was still spasming, and her walls clenched again and again, making her breath in quick gasps through her nose.

Astarion pinched her nose, as well as covering her mouth, so that no noise came from her.

His mouth was still on her skin, and she felt a trickle of blood leak down the side of her neck.

The shine of Wyll’s boots was a few inches away, right on the other side of the bush. And Astarion was as still as stone on top of her.

Her lungs were burning.

The lantern was almost illuminating them. Any second now Wyll would yell at them.

“Where the fuck is she?” Wyll mumbled, and stepped back.

And back.

And then finally, the glow of his lantern disappeared as he walked deeper into the forest.

Astarion removed his hand and Tav gasped in a breath, chest heaving in gulps of air.

Astarion licked up the thin line of escaped blood as he slowly withdrew from her. She winced at the pressure, her body still screaming at her for what she had put it through.

She could properly breathe now, though she certainly did not deserve to. Her limbs felt weak, her heart still hammering in her chest. Gods . What had she just done?

She lifted trembling fingers to her neck, tracing the spot where his fangs had pierced her. The skin was tender. She could still feel the echo of him—his grip, his mouth, the fire they’d stoked together. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to glance over her shoulder.

He was brushing dirt off his thighs.

Tav slowly pushed herself up from the ground. She knew she must look disheveled. Hair a mess. Eyes glazed. Face flushed.

Astarion stood there, utterly at ease, a lazy smile curling his lips as he extended a hand to help her up. His fingers lingered at her hips before he let go.

He then pressed her bundle of clothes into her hands. Tav accepted them, her fingers trembling slightly as she clutched the fabric to her chest.

She bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head at herself. Reckless. Stupid. She had let herself get carried away—let him carry her away.

Astarion pulled his pants up and over his glistening cock. Tav couldn’t help but stare.

His seed slipped down her thigh.

Astarion walked up and slid his hand gently against her skin, catching his seed, before plunging his fingers inside her, forcing her to take all of him. To keep him inside her.

Tav gasped and clutched onto his arm.

He laughed, low and knowing. “Oh, darling,” he whispered. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

Astarion sucked at his fingers when he withdrew them from her trembling sex.

He patted her bare bum, smirking as she sucked in a breath, and then, just like that, he turned and strolled back toward camp.

#astarion fanfiction #astarion smut #smut #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fic #astarion ancunin #vampire #vampire fiction #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #so hot and sexy #bg3 smut

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malk1ns · 1 month ago

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april 5 @ stars, 5-3 win

geno comes back, sid immediately scores a hat trick. coincidence? i think not. baby it's been 18 years i think he's a sure thing by now!!

Passing to Sid on the power play and watching the puck hit the back of the net will never get old.

Zhenya thinks he’s been handling his demotion to the second unit gracefully; he only questioned it once when he was first moved down, and since then he’s been trying to manage his unit to the best of his ability, strategizing with the guys and doing his best to direct the faceoff back to Karl, or whoever is up at the point, in order to set something up.

He’s not used to it. That’s always been Sid’s job. But he likes to think he’s done pretty well, that even if the second unit doesn’t score they’re at least keeping the puck in the zone most of the time, wearing out their opponents and leaving the next shift in an optimal spot to make something happen.

All the little pep talks he’s given himself all season long about accepting his reduced role and doing his best to put on a good face for the sake of the team fly out the window the second he puts the puck on Sid’s stick and Sid flings it behind the goalie.

“Yes!” he howls, flinging his hands into the air and circling the net to get to Sid. “Fuck, great shot, let’s go.”

“Good pass,” Sid says with a nod, and he has a weird look in his eye, something bright and intense, but before Zhenya can ask what’s wrong the rest of the guys are slamming into them, exuberant over taking the lead.

Zhenya lets himself sink into the feeling of being back out on the ice with his team before he pulls his focus back to the game. There’s a long way to go, and for all that they’re essentially out of the playoffs, Zhenya still wants to win. There’s nothing he hates more than sitting down in the trainer’s rooms and watching his team struggle without him.

He doesn’t think too hard about how few games are left in the season, how much time he missed this year. He doesn’t think about the potential surgery staring him down in the off-season, his shoulder this time.

Instead, he focuses on his linemates, leaning over the iPad with the new kid up from Wilkes and conferring with Raks over a set play they tried out earlier at practice.

They’re behind when they troop off the ice for the second intermission, and Zhenya grips his stick as he clomps down to the locker room, resisting the urge to smack it against the wall.

He strips off his jersey and downs practically an entire Gatorade when he gets to his stall, sucking in air as he tries to regulate his heartbeat. He feels out of shape and old; he’s skating fine, but his knees hurt and his shoulder aches.

Sully comes in to give them a pep talk but Zhenya tunes him out in favor of running through the last 40 minutes, what he could have done differently on a few shots to send them to the back of the net instead of at the goalie.

“Hey,” comes Sid’s voice from his right, and Zhenya shakes his head, looking over Raks to where Sid is looking at him.

Sid smiles. He looks weirdly relaxed considering the team is down heading into the third. “I got this one for ya,” he says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the locker room chatter. “Just watch.”

Zhenya lifts an eyebrow. If it were anyone else he’d give them a hard time, maybe threaten them with a fine if they don’t follow through with a win, but—there’s that look in Sid’s eye again, the same one Zhenya’s seen so many times. It’s always a precursor to some magical hockey, to Sid willing the team to victory through willpower alone.

“Yes, you win for me,” is what he says, getting to his feet with a groan and reaching for his jersey. “Quick, like, score lots.”

Zhenya’s mostly joking. But then Sid goes and gets a hat trick, with an assist on the tying goal on top of it.

Zhenya knows what Sid looks like when he’s showing off for someone. He’s seen it plenty of times over the last 18 years; whenever Sid had a girlfriend or boyfriend up in the stands he’d always find an extra gear, pull off something even more miraculous than usual.

He’s pretty sure that there’s nobody here in Dallas that Sid would consider a special guest. Which leaves…

“Told you,” Sid says, bumping up against Zhenya as they trudge out to the bus. Zhenya stifles a yawn; he’s exhausted, and they still have a flight to Chicago before he can try to catch a few hours of sleep before starting his gameday routine all over again. He hates back-to-backs. “Didn’t I? I said I’d get you the win.”

Zhenya glances down at him. Sid should be exhausted after playing basically 20 minutes tonight, but he looks jittery, bright-eyed and practically bouncing on his feet.

“You score hat trick for me?” he says, watching the smile that curls on Sid’s mouth—a little bashful, a little smug. Just like Sid gets when he’s putting on a show for someone and they’ve noticed.

Zhenya is still getting used to being single again, but he’s not blind. He knows what it looks like when someone’s flirting with him. Specifically, when it’s Sidney Crosby flirting with him. It’s been a while—they haven’t hooked up in close to ten years at this point, before Zhenya got married.

He didn’t think this was on the table anymore. Sid’s never been the type to settle down, and Zhenya’s watched probably half a dozen romantic hopefuls drift into Sid’s life and leave broken-hearted. That’s what kept Zhenya from ever trying to make things more serious, and then Anna got pregnant and he had to stop fucking around, and after so many years he assumed Sid’s attention, always flaky on his best days, would have turned elsewhere.

“It was for you if you liked it,” Sid murmurs, low enough that Zhenya needs to bend down to hear him.

“Always like your hockey,” Zhenya responds automatically, thinking hard.

He’s not sure what Sid’s after. A quick lay, maybe, but this barely qualifies as a road trip; surely he can wait until they’re back in Pittsburgh?’

It’s not that Zhenya’s opposed. Sid’s good in bed: attentive, responsive, great with his mouth. And Zhenya’s far enough from his divorce that he’s not worried about rebounding.

He’s not really interested in casual hooking up anymore, though. He’s too old, he has a son, and he’s used to being in a relationship. He likes being someone’s boyfriend, not their dirty little secret.

“Sid…” he says, pausing and pulling Sid to the side before they get on the bus.

“Wait,” Sid says before Zhenya can keep talking. “I know what you’re…that’s not what this is. Um, I was just trying to get your attention.” He shrugs, looking to one side.

Zhenya purses his lips. “Always have my attention,” he says, and it’s true—even when they were just friends, the only person Zhenya’s ever paid more attention to than Sid is Nikita. “Sid, how long you’re think this? Why you’re not say anything?”

Sid’s mouth twists. “I wanted to give you time, and then…I dunno, it never seemed like the right moment. Figured that maybe I’d just try it on with you again and see what you said.” He bites his lip and looks up at Zhenya through his eyelashes, which is totally transparent and also completely unfair. “So?”

They have a game tomorrow, and that’s the only reason Zhenya doesn’t suggest Sid takes his extra key and sneaks into his hotel room in Chicago.

“You come over after we’re home tomorrow,” he says instead, putting his hand on Sid’s back under the pretense of shoving him towards the bus. Sid’s skin is warm through his shirt, and Zhenya digs his fingers in just the littlest bit. “We talk about.”

“Yeah?” Sid says, looking over his shoulder. He looks like he did during the game—eyes bright and focused, the way they get when he’s going after something he wants.

“Yeah,” Zhenya replies, shaking his head. As if there was any other answer.

#sidgeno #hockey rpf #my writing #my fic #24-25 series #yes he WAS happy to have big geno back thanks for noticing!

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biowaredisasterbisexual · 22 days ago

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Shameless Self-Promotion Saturday Sunday/Sunday Accountability Post

Thanks for the uno-reverse tag, @skullypettibone!

I am not sure who has been tagged yet, so I’ll just throw some gentle tags out there to as many people as I can bug off the top of my exhausted head (I slept for 3.5 hours, please forgive me): @hyperions-light, @ofcrowsanddragons, @bygonesigh, @dymme, @basedonconjecture, @corvus-frugilegus, @mageofquandrix, @mythals-whore, @galluslonging, @jouskaroo, @wukodork, @znthra, @operative-arrow, @the-sparrohawk, @davrinsleftpectoral, @becausedragonage, @littlemissgeek8, @uchidachi, @thedissonantverses, and last but never least — anyone reading this who wants to! Show off and tag me so I can yell about you!

The idea: We make a post and show off, what cool stuff we created over the past week. Art, Screenshots, writing (anything from a questionnaire about your OC to the 100K epos...) anything we do is worth to be seen and to be promoted. And by tagging people, commenting, and reblogging, we share the love and boost ourselves, and other's confidence. No matter what form you choose, whether you reblog your initial post, or create a new one with teasers, you decide!

I have, once again, managed to accidentally put this off until Sunday, so I’m combining it with my Sunday Accountability Post, which I make each week to create a false deadline and trick my ADHD into letting me work.

So this week we closed out BELLARA WEEK 2025!! As I did for Taash Week 2025, I challenged myself to write a ficlet every day based on the prompts and really push myself creatively. So: Bellara Week 2025 Ficlet Series!

I also posted up the second-to-last of the Getting Into Trouble series: Testamentum, a Neverook fic taking place post-Tearstone and pre-Endgame. Angst, Disaster Rook Lore, a reunion!

The next one-shot in that series, if I ever manage to get it to a place I feel is good enough, will be the finale. I know. I can’t really believe it either. 🤯

But all is not lost for me. I did also work on both the finale and on The Ventus Job, the GIT sequel, this week. So here’s a snippet of TVJ below the cut.

“So, what’s the plan, Trouble?” Neve asked him later. Kind of a fool’s errand for her, honestly, because Rook was still far more interested in letting his fingertips run over the soft skin of her stomach than he was in a pre-party strategy session.

He smirked, leaning in to kiss her collarbone. “This?” He offered, before letting the edge of his teeth graze over her. He couldn’t help the sense of accomplishment when she shivered.

“Your cousins will be here in,” she checked the magical clock on the wall, “an hour.”

“Plenty of time.”

At that Neve laughed, pushing him away gently and he grinned. “You and I both know it’s not. Try again.”

“Try to…?” She flicked his breastbone, and he chuckled. “Alright, alright. So, we get dressed. You look amazing, I look roguishly charming,” he began. Neve smirked, and he grinned.

“You accompany Livinia. I accompany Sabine.” It was going to be a long night. Whatever face he made made Neve snicker, though, so maybe his suffering would be worth it. “And I accept thanks in the form of sexual favors or chocolate, by the way.”

She prodded his side and he continued, “We get in. So there’s the easy part.”

#shameless self promotion saturday #sunday accountability post #neverook #neve x rook #rook x neve #neverook fanfiction #getting into trouble series #bellara ficlet series #The Ventus Job #my fanfic

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rel312 · 2 years ago

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I HAD NO IDEA SEASON 2 CAME OUT ALREADY SO NOW IM GOING TO SCREAM ABOUT IT

Episode 1:

CROWLEY WANTED TO TAKE AZIRAPHALE BACK TO THE PLACE THEY FIRST MET

CROWLEY PROTECTED AZIRAPHALE FIRST IM SCREAMING

(My brother actually came into my room to tell me to shut up)

Of course Aziraphale would just forgive 8 months rent

Lmao Gabriel’s just walking down the street ass naked

Gabriel just hugged Aziraphale I can’t

“James. Long for Jim, short for Gabriel”

Crowley knows Aziraphale so well, but poor guy he only calls him for 3 reasons

Poor Crowley is trying so hard not to freak out about the “naked man friend”

The conversation between Crowley and Jim I can’t

Maggie and Nina are trapped together!!

Michael and Uriel are fighting let’s gooo

Crowley just casually let the girls out lmao

THERES AN I WAS WRONG DANCE OH MY GOD

THEYRE PERFORMING A MIRACLE TOGETHER

Aaaaaand of course it goes immediately wrong

Episode 2:

Gabriel’s wig is atrocious

IS AZIRAPHALE GOING TO BE THE SUPREME ARCHANGEL NOW

A jukebox that turns every song into Everyday like the Bentley with Queen, hmmm….

Crowley looks like a doting partner bringing his husband a drink

“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes, vavoom, sorted” sir… are you telling me that’s what did it for you???

Crowley’s so confounded that Jane Austen wrote books

THE VOICE OF GOD???

HE TURNED ALL THE GOATS INTO BIRDS

Crowley scaring the kids cause they were brats but not actually killing them aww

The little girl asking to be a blue lizard with her siblings she’s so cute

CROWLEY TAUGHT AZIRAPHALE TO EAT

I cannot believe Aziraphale was the first to talk about sides I love them

Crowley and Aziraphale working together for the first time to save the kids

Aziraphale looks so shaken to have lied poor baby

Crowley babe he’s begging for you to drive him

“Our car” you can’t take it that far lol

Poor Aziraphale really thought he was gonna fall he was about to cry

Crowley was so soft in that last scene

Episode 3:

Jim’s stuff is all labeled

Aziraphale looks like a proud father to Muriel

Crowley’s moving the plants to use the car

They both look like parents I love them

Crowley brought Aziraphale to a cemetery because he thought it would amuse him, that is date behavior

Crowley is about to kill Aziraphale for changing his car

NESSIE?!?!

“Operation: Lovebirds” Crowley is such a dork

Aziraphale just is not getting anything lol

Crowley… shrunk himself??? And then grew himself????

Crowley tempted her to be good I love him

I love the very closed sign

Demons can’t enter somewhere uninvited???

He’s so angry Aziraphale might be hurt

Episode 4:

BEEBOP

“His type”????

“I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item” HOLY SHIT

HE CALLED CROWLEY HIS GOOD FRIEND AFTER THE CHURCH!!!

“This office has gone 13 5 0 days without anyone saying ‘THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED’”

Glad to see Aziraphale in his magic era

Crowley’s impression is hilarious

“Someone you can really trust” and his first thought is Crowley 🥹

Aziraphale has a gun and Crowley has never shot one

Crowley was shaking he was so scared and Aziraphale was so proud of his trick

Furfur not knowing how to pronounce Aziraphale lmao

Sleight of hand!

Look at them finding a middle ground in shades of grey!

Lmao Crowley would murder him if he knew Aziraphale didn’t put the brakes

Episode 5:

They’re talking about Doctor Who

Aziraphale’s giving books and Crowley’s playing with crystal balls, I love them

Aziraphale being bad at French is so funny to me

Nina grilling Crowley on his relationship with Aziraphale is everything

Crowley was confronted with his feelings and immediately went out to get a drink with Aziraphale

Crowley’s so mad go off king

The matchbox!

Aww look at Crowley denying he’s nice

The romantic music while Crowley looks at Aziraphale with the chandelier

Oh. My. GOD. Jim’s suit!

Lol that’s not what I was expecting when they said masks will be provided

AZIRAPHALE WANTS TO DANCE WITH CROWLEY

THEYRE DANCING!!!!!!

“Surrender the angle”

Gabriel’s coat!!

“T. O. S. T. E.”

“You’re a good lad” “not actually, either”

“Rescuing me makes him so happy” you can’t just say things like that and expect me to be normal about it

Episode 6:

Crowley’s just bouncing around in heaven

“I’m done with being scared” *flips them the bird*

Oh sweetie, you meant well but no

“Crowley’s emotional support angel” yes, yes that’s exactly what he is

Crowley’s little supportive punch to Muriel was so cute

AZIRAPHALES HALO?!?!

THE FLY

Gabriel x Beelzebub confirmed??

The fact that Gabriel and Beelzebub were able to sort this out in a few years while it’s taken Crowley and Aziraphale 6000 is insane

And the fact that Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm when he realized that

Crowley’s so impressed with Aziraphale bringing everyone to order

Aziraphale’s face at Crowley talking about Alpha Centauri

Aziraphale looking at Crowley with so much love in his eyes is giving me life

THE METATRON?!?!

Aziraphale looking to Crowley for permission I can’t

Crowley knowing Aziraphale will come back and saying they need “a little us time” at the Ritz

Crowley getting antsy that Aziraphale’s not back yet

Nina taking inspiration from Crowley and calling Maggie angel my beloved

Crowley looks devastated that Aziraphale interrupted him

Aziraphale looks so incredibly happy at getting Crowley to be an angel again but there’s no way Crowley wants that

Crowley’s getting so emotional

“Just be an us” stooooopppppp

“I need you” I can’t take this!

Nightingales

THEY KISSED!!!!!!!!!

Aziraphale touched his lips after I’m dying

Aziraphale stop being so stupid and get him back

The- the second coming??

YOU CANNOT END IT HERE

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

Please tell me there will be a season 3 I can’t handle this

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live-laugh-legolas · 9 months ago

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Yay Fellowship HCs! What would you think of a Fellowship x witch!reader? Or Gandalf's apprentice?

So idk what kind of witch you are wanting so I’ll take some liberties because I’ll be honest I don’t know anything about witchcraft. So this is going to be a “witch” who has powers like the Scarlet Witch

Also I’ve gotten a lot of requests for a witch reader so I feel kinda bad that this one frankly lacking considering the interest but I just had a hard time with it despite loving the idea

The fellowship x witch!reader

Aragorn:

-Ngl you’re kinda scary

-But he’s super impressed

-He may have a harder time dropping formalities because you are just such a respectable being

Legolas:

-He’s facinated

-Elves have their own magic so I don’t think they have much fear about it in the right hands

-Wants to do trick shots by combining your skills with his

-I mean he never misses but imagine if you just redirected his arrow and made it faster or something

Gimli:

-Real sus of you

-Where does that red stuff come from??

-No he’s not intimidated

-And no he doesn’t think it’s kinda hot

-….Alright he likes badass strong women, sue him

Boromir:

-Has probably heard of you through stories but didn’t think they were real

-Probably a bit scared but won’t show it

-Will try and impress you

-No he’s not trying to one up you

Frodo:

-Honestly just grateful that you are on his side

-He will take whatever he can get and you are possibly the best

-Finds joy in the peaceful aspects of your powers; maybe making animal shapes or just pretty swirls

Sam:

-He will ask you to make shapes

-Loves if you can make little butterflies like Gandalf did for the children

-He’s a bit scared of you but in the sense that you are just so incredible in his eyes

-Sort of like “I can’t believe this person knows my name”

Merry:

-*you do anything with the magic* “wow”

-Immediately thinks of so many ways this can be used for pranks

-Tries to convince you to lift him with your powers so he can “fly”

Pippin:

-He will always ask you to pass him things that are far out of your reach so you will use your powers

-He really wishes he had magic too

-He will proudly tell anyone and everyone about how awesome and powerful you are

Gandalf:

-He has known you, or at least of you, for a long time

-He will give advice on how to better control your magic

-Tells you to do things saying “you are more capable” but really he just doesn’t want to do it

———————————————————————

I’m sorry this has taken so long to get out. And it’s not really something I’m proud of but I felt bad having it just sitting in drafts

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr headcanons #lotr preferences #lotr fellowship #legolas #aragorn #frodo baggins #boromir #meriadoc brandybuck #peregrin took #merry and pippin #gandalf the grey #gandalf #gimli #samwise gamgee #the lord of the rings

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twistedminutia · 28 days ago

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A Million and One Minutia: Magic Tricks

Gray and the basketball club talk about magic tricks.

Read the rest of the chapters here and crossposted to AO3 here.

I step into the Night Raven College gym and immediately have to duck to avoid getting brained by a basketball.

“Heeeey, it’s shrimpy!” A simultaneously lazy and enthusiastic voice drawls over the gym. I look up to see Floyd ambling over to me. Thanks to his long stride, a casual pace still gets him over to me before anyone else. “What’re you doing here?”

“Ace,” I say, “asked me to bring his bag.” I heft the backpack, jostling the single textbook inside, plus the crumpled remains of old assignments, assorted pencils, and the test Professor Trein handed back today. Given how quickly and forcefully he shoved that into the depths of his bag, I don’t think he did very well.

Just as I finish talking, Ace lopes over, tucking his basketball under his arm. “There you are! Took you long enough.”

“Don’t complain at me after I was nice enough to get you your bag,” I say. “You’re the one who forgot it.”

Ace just huffs. “Sure, whatever.” He reaches for the bag and I hold it behind me.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” I ask. Ace blinks at me, then makes another grab. I jump back out of his way. Floyd starts to snicker.

“Give me my bag!” Ace says. He makes a third grab, and I take a risk- this time, I dodge in Floyd’s direction. Fortunately, he’s in a good enough mood to let me duck behind him.

“Isn’t there something you’re supposed to say to someone when they do a nice favor for you?” I ask, still staying mostly hidden behind Floyd’s tall frame. He glances back at me, but doesn’t try to move away. That lazy grin stays on his face the entire time, like he’s watching some fish darting around, trying to bite each other, and he’s just interested in seeing which one wins.

“What are you, my mom?” Ace says, but he’s not making any moves to come closer. Probably trying to stay out of Floyd’s squeezing distance, which, given the length of his arms, is pretty big. I shrug and stay behind Floyd. “Okay, okay, fine! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, and step out behind Floyd to pass the bag back to Ace. He huffs at me, tucking the bag close to his chest.

“Aww, I thought Shrimpy and Crabby would fight more,” Floyd says. “It was funny, watchin’ you dart around like a little shrimp tryin’ to hide behind some big coral.”

Floyd’s naming convention are interesting. I’m not sure exactly what I’ve done to earn the name ‘Shrimpy,’ usually with a ‘little’ in front of it. I am shorter than him, but that’s a distinction shared by pretty much everyone else on campus. Then again, I know Riddle and Epel are ‘Goldfish’ and ‘Guppy’ respectively, so maybe everyone of around our size gets labeled as ‘tiny little creature’ in Floyd’s mind.

“Ace. Floyd. You’re supposed to be practicing.” Jamil arrives on the scene with a disapproving frown.

“Aww, that’s boring. I already know how to shoot a basketball,” Floyd complains. “Runnin’ drills is no fun.”

I feel sort of bad for Jamil- he spends most of his life wrangling Kalim, and then he gets a break in basketball club and immediately has to wrangle Floyd. Wrangling Kalim is probably easier than Floyd- at least with Kalim, he’s consistent. Dealing with Floyd is a crapshoot every time.

Floyd sighs, then his eyes cut to me. I get a two-second warning in the form of an emerging sharp-toothed grin. And then he’s grabbing my arm. “Hey! Let’s see if Lil’ Shrimpy can get some good shots!”

“Woah! Hey!” I scramble to get away, but Floyd’s massive and I’m getting dragged along like a guppy in a current. “Floyd, I’m not any good at basketball!”

“I wanna see,” Floyd insists, tossing me a basketball. I catch it against my chest. He stands in front of me, posture loose and threatening. Due to my size, his size, and his general personality, he has a tendency to loom over me. Threateningly.

I bounce the ball a few times against the ground. Technically, I know how to play basketball. I can dribble a ball, and move while doing it, and I can even throw it at a basket. It’s just when you add other people and the need to make the thrown ball get into the basket, my skills rapidly approach zero.

As soon as I try to move forward, Floyd is on top of me. Not literally, but that’s what it feels like. He’s leaning over me, doing that weird hover-hands ‘I’m-not-touching-you’ thing that basketball players do. The way he lifts his arms makes me feel like he’s about to surround me with his whole body. I make an attempt to dodge to the right, but Floyd takes one step and he’s there. I glance back at Ace, hoping he’ll maybe back me up, but he’s just watching. Jamil looks annoyed, but not annoyed enough to do anything about it.

I take a wild shot and lunge to my left. Floyd tries to block, but I get just clear. It’ll only take a second before he’s on top of me, so I take a chance and throw the ball wildly down the court.

It misses the entire backboard and thuds against the wall. Floyd stares at it for a moment. “Wow, Shrimpy. You suck.”

I sag to the ground. “Yeah. I said I was going to, didn’t I?”

“Don’t sit on the gym floor,” Jamil says. “It’s dirty.”

“Ugh.” I haul myself back to my feet and dust off my uniform. “I’m not good at any sports, and I’m terrible at basketball because I’m too short.”

“Shrimpy’s too shrimpy!” Floyd laughs.

Ace, apparently unwilling to help, but delighted by the opportunity to tease me, leans against my side. “Want us to get you a stool so you can try to reach the basket? Or some stilts? I can see if the housewarden will let you borrow his heels.”

I shove him off me. He shoves back and we have a brief tussle that ends with me in a headlock while Ace rubs his fist against my head. “Ace! You’re screwing up my hair!”

Jamil snickers nearby. I wonder if he ever did anything similar with his sister- I certainly got into roughhousing with my own siblings like this. I attempt to bite Ace’s arm in a final bid for freedom and he drops me. Once his arms are open, I sort of regret fighting as hard as I did. I don’t get a lot of hugs around here- Ace will play-fight with me sometimes, and that’s about the closest I get.

“Dude, biting’s off limits,” Ace complains, checking his arm. I didn’t break skin- my teeth barely grazed him. But he makes a big show of getting indignant, like I broke some kind of sacred rule.

“Humans have a no-biting rule?” Floyd says. “Lame. Biting’s the best part.”

“I thought squeezing was the best part,” I sat, then regret bringing it up. Knowing Floyd, he’d be only too eager to give a demonstration.

Fortunately, he just shrugs. “Squeezing’s good too. Both are pretty fun!”

“We’re not doing either of those things right now,” Jamil says, apparently finally deciding to get everything back on track. “We’re supposed to be practicing.” He glances over at the other members of the club, who are milling about the court. A few of them are watching us. “All of us are supposed to be practicing.” The watchers scramble to look like they’re doing anything else. Jamil sighs. “We can do a scrimmage, Floyd. Would that be more entertaining for you?”

Floyd perks up. “I could go for a competition,” he agrees. “I’ll take on both of you at once.”

Jamil glances at Ace, who shrugs. “Sure, I’m down. Gray, watch my bag.”

I don’t know why he can’t watch his own bag. But there are a lot of people with sticky fingers on campus- probably better to keep an eye on it. So, I grab his bag and plop myself down on the bleachers to watch.

Watching is entertaining for about ten minutes. I’m not much of a sports person, and I start getting fidgety. And Ace’s bag is right there…

Maybe NRC is rubbing off on me. It’s not like I’m stealing anything, but snooping’s not nice either.

There aren’t a lot of things in his bag. It’s mostly old school assignments. A couple of old pens. A textbook. Nothing I didn’t already guess. But there is something thumping around in the bottom of his bag. I reach in and fish out an old, slightly worn deck of cards.

It looks like he’s had it for a while. The package is worn in the way you’d expect a box that’s been thumping around a bag to be- the corners have softened and the paint’s been rubbed away. A few white cracks run across the front of the card package, though I can still make out the design. An ornate label reads Queen’s Soldier Playing Cards, with a stylized depiction of the Queen of Hearts beneath them.

I pull the cards out. They’re not really different from any playing cards on Earth. Red hearts and diamonds, black spades and clubs. Jacks, queens, kings, and aces, plus a couple of jokers. The Queen of Hearts decorates the appropriate card. The other face cards are decorated with different people- I don’t know if they’re all historical figures, or if some of them are made up. I flick through a few of the cards, separating the appropriate ones as needed.

“Hey!” A sweaty Ace crashes onto the bench next to me. “Why are you going through my things?”

“Here.” I hand him a card. He blinks at it, then looks at me.

“What is this for?”

“It’s you,” I elaborate. “The ace of hearts.”

He looks at the card for a moment, then executes a very exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Right. Haven’t heard that once before.”

I ignore him. “And this one’s Deuce.” A two of spades. “And Trey.” Three of clubs. “And Cater.” Four of diamonds. “And then Riddle.” Naturally, the Queen of Hearts. “Isn’t it kind of funny you all have card names?”

“Riddle doesn’t,” Ace says. “And I know, like, three guys named Trey. And there was a guy in my elementary class named Cater.”

“They’re that common?” I ask.

“They’re traditional Queendom of Roses names,” Ace says. “Something to do with the Queen’s card soldiers or whatever.”

Card soldiers. It’s such a weird concept. Riddle calls all the students in his dorm his ‘card soldiers’ and they all have suits on their faces because the Queen of Hearts apparently had an army of card soldiers. But were they actual cards animated by magic or transformed people or something in between?

I don’t ask about it. I’m not sure it’s an answer I’d really want.

Ace gathers the cards back from me and starts shuffling them absently. I watch. I never got the hang of shuffling. I don’t think I have the manual dexterity for it- for crochet, yes, for managing a bunch of pieces of paper, no. He flips around the deck a few times, then notices me watching him and fans the cards out. “Pick one.”

I stare at him for a moment, then hesitantly pluck a card from the middle. “Don’t show it to me,” Ace instructs. “Just look at it.” He folds the cards back together and splits the deck. “Okay, once you’ve memorized the card, put it back.”

It’s the seven of hearts. I look at it for a good few seconds, then tuck it into the position Ace suggests. He closes the deck around it and starts shuffling again. “Okay, so I have no idea what card you chose, right?”

“I assume,” I say. “You might.”

“Hey, you could have picked from any card in the deck. I didn’t see the one you chose, and you had free choice. It could have been any of them, and I shuffled the deck around, so even if I did know, I don’t know where it is now.” Ace lifts one of his hands, shaking it out. “Got nothing up my sleeves…”

“You don’t even have any sleeves. That’s a short-sleeved shirt,” I tell him.

“Exactly! So you know I’m not pulling any tricks.” Ace holds the deck for a moment, eyes closed, then grins. “Okay. The card you picked has migrated to the bottom of the deck.” He starts to lift the deck toward me. “Is this your- agh!”

A basketball rockets past us and slams into the bleachers. Ace drops the cards and they scatter, some of them sliding under the bleachers. “New card trick,” I sigh. “Fifty-two pickup.”

I crouch to start gathering the cards, but Ace turns to glare at the approaching menace. “Floyd!”

“Sorry, Crabby,” Floyd says in the most un-sorry tone I’ve ever heard. “Lost control of the ball.” He looks down at us as I pull together a majority of the deck and hand it to Ace. “What are you doing?”

“He was going to show me a magic trick,” I say. “Until someone threw a basketball at us.”

Floyd ignores my grumbling. “Crabby was doing magic? With cards? Making ‘em dance or something?”

“No, like a magic trick. A card trick,” I offer, trying to explain. Floyd just tilts his head at me.

“Uh. Yeah. I asked about magic with cards.” His fist clenches. I give it a nervous look. “You messin’ with me?”

“It’s not real magic!” Ace hurries to add. “It’s a trick you do with cards to make it look like magic. We just call it magic tricks, sometimes.”

Floyd’s expression relaxes into curiosity. “Huh?” He slouches onto the bleacher next to Ace, practically leaning over him. “Show me.”

I gather the last couple of cards from where they’ve been hidden and pass them back to Ace. He shuffles them again and fans them out for Floyd. “Pick a card.”

Floyd takes his time examining the cards. He looks up at Ace’s expression a few times, as if searching for some indication of which card Ace wants him to pick. Presumably so he can pick the opposite. But Ace has a good poker face. Eventually, Floyd just goes for a card pretty far to Ace’s left.

“Look at the card and don’t tell me what it is,” Ace says. “Just memorize it.” He opens up the deck. “And then put it back in here.”

Floyd stares at the card, then slowly places it back into the deck. Ace closes it up and starts shuffling. “Okay. I have nothing up my sleeves…” Ace shakes one arm out, then the other. “And I shuffled them all around.” He holds the deck up toward Floyd. “Do you want me to keep shuffling?”

“Yeah,” Floyd says.

Ace shuffles the cards a few more times. “Let me know when you want me to stop.”

Floyd lets him go for a few more seconds. “Okay. Stop.”

Ace stops. “Right. So, your card should have migrated to the bottom of the deck.” There’s some motion behind me. Jamil’s apparently seen fit to come over and watch. He leans over my shoulder as he brushes a towel over his face.

Floyd and I lean in as Ace pulls the card off the bottom of the deck. The eight of spades.

I’m pretty close to Floyd, which means I get an alarmingly close look as his expression crashes into disappointment. “That’s not it, Crabby.” His frown deepens further. “That’s a pretty lame trick.”

Ace looks at the card. “What? But… Hey, hang on! Let me see…”

Floyd looks pissed, but I’m watching Ace’s face. I haven’t known him for a really long time, but I’ve kind of got a handle on his expressions. He doesn’t look as thrown as he should be. Something’s up.

Right as I’m having that thought, Ace lifts his hand and gestures toward Jamil. “Hey, uh. Toss me that towel, would you?” Jamil shrugs and does so. Ace fumbles the catch pretty badly, dropping it onto the bench next to a still-scowling Floyd. He mumbles an apology, leans over, picks it up and-

“Is this your card?” Ace asks, whisking the towel away to reveal the jack of spades beneath. Floyd’s face goes from pissed to delighted in less than a second.

“Woooaahhh!” He snatches the card before Ace can blink and turns it this way and that to examine it. “Hey, how’d you do that? Some kind of card teleport?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Ace says, and immediately backtracks when Floyd’s expression starts to fall and his hand starts to clench around the card it’s still holding. “Uh, hey, hey, it’s a misdirect! Just a misdirect.” He gestures for the card back and Floyd hands it over. “Here, see? When you put the card into the middle of the deck, I slip my thumb in there and pull the card out just a little, so it’s not even with the other cards. Then I just shuffle the cards so that one’s on the bottom. Sometimes you can just pull from the bottom, but sometimes you can kinda drop the card out from the deck and slip it somewhere else. It takes some practice.”

Floyd visibly thinks about that. “Huh. We got somethin’ similar underwater. With shells and pearls. Y’gotta guess where the pearl is and the merfolk’ll try to keep moving it away from ya.”

“Shell games,” Jamil says. “We have them on land, too. Though balls and cups are more common these days.”

“And people don’t use magic for those?” I ask. As far as I’m aware, most shell games are supposed to be scams- magic feels like it would be helpful.

“Most people would have no way to tell,” Jamil says. “But the idea is that you’re not using magic. And a majority of people manning those games aren’t going to be mages anyway.”

“Really good magicians have technomantic displays when they’re doing tricks onstage,” Ace says. “The readout’s supposed to display if there’s any actual magic happening.”

“Seems like it’d be really easy to trick. Just make it not display anything ever,” Floyd suggests.

“Well, yeah. Couple of magicians got caught a while back using magic-enhanced props for their shows, because they tampered with their magic detector,” Ace says. “But there’s nothing stopping someone from bringing in their own device that detects magic, so a lot of people get caught. Plus, any mages in the audience might be able to sense it. And most places that have magicians renting stages will have independent technology, so they can’t screw with it.”

I prop my hand up on my chin. “So, a magic show’s not supposed to have any actual magic in it.”

“There are magic shows that involve a mage showing off actual magic skills. Performance magic is a real field,” Jamil says. “But they’d be advertised as such. If you’re billing yourself as a trick magician, then you can’t use real magic in your routine.”

“Okay,” I say. “So why’s it called a magic show here? If it’s just tricks and not really magic?”

Ace shrugs. “Why’s it called a magic show in your world if there’s not any magic there?”

“Because we had stories about magic and how it could do impossible things,” I say. “If you don’t know what someone’s doing, then a lot of those tricks really look like someone’s doing impossible things, like magic.”

“Same thing here,” Jamil says. “Calling card tricks and things like that magic is an old tradition- it only looks like magic if you don’t know what real magic looks like, but most people aren’t mages. And, a long time ago, magic wasn’t always as well-taught as it is now, so plenty of people would just know weak or untrained mages. A person doing card tricks might look convincingly like a real mage.”

“They did it to trick people?” I ask.

“I’m sure some of them did. There were always areas where mages weren’t seen favorably, but in some areas, being a mage would earn you a little bit of respect. They might have gone there, pulled out some card tricks, and gotten a free stay at an inn or something,” Jamil says. “A lot of them were probably traveling performers as well. They’d perform some ‘magic,’ entertain the locals, and move on with nobody the wiser that they hadn’t seen real magic at all.”

“It still seems like it’d be confusing to call it magic nowadays,” I say.

“You can usually tell what people are talking about based on context,” Jamil says.

“My dad always called it magic tricks whenever he taught it to me,” Ace says. He’s still shuffling his cards around, flipping them between his hands. “And I know some people call it stage magic or illusions.”

“Which is still confusing because illusions are a category of real magic, and stage magic is sometimes used to refer to actual magic shows,” Jamil says. “Magic tricks or trick magic seem to be the most common ways of referring to it.”

Trick magic. That makes sense. It tricks you into thinking it’s magic.

“They had card tricks back in your world, Gray?” Ace says.

“Sure. I learned a couple when I was a little kid. Not that I remember how to do them now,” I say. “Stage magicians can make a decent living, if they’re good at what they do.” Ace nods, like that makes sense to him. I guess it’s a possible career path here- even if you know it’s not magic, it’s still entertaining to try and figure out how they’re doing that, or just to watch the routine. Even mages who perform real magic probably need some kind of routine- It might be interesting to watch someone do magic for a little while, but unless they’re really doing something interesting with it, it gets boring fast.

I must have been here too long if I’m thinking of magic as boring. But there’s only so long you can watch a bunch of mages produce water or leaves from nowhere before you start getting numb to it.

“You said there are machines that people can use to detect if someone’s actually using magic?” I ask as Ace flips a couple of cards between his fingers.

“Yeah. Pretty standard. And you can get little handheld ones, if you want a portable one. Not that most of us here need it,” Ace says.

“You don’t?”

“Nahh,” Floyd says. He’s starting to look bored with the whole conversation. “If you’re a mage, you can usually kinda sense that stuff. Feels weird.”

“Usually more powerful or practiced mages have a better feel for it,” Jamil adds. “But most mages can get a sense of if someone is using magic. Some beastmen say they can smell it.”

I think Leona’s mentioned that before. It leads to some interesting ideas about how magic works- the fact that someone can smell it indicates it’s physical somehow. But I’ll do my own research on that later. “Having a magic sensor would be helpful in my world,” I sigh. “Might cut down on the amount of people pretending to have real magic.”

Ace frowns. “Uh. You said there’s no magic in your world.”

“Right,” I say. “There’s not.”

“Then a magic detector would be useless,” Jamil says. “There’s no magic to detect.”

“Yeah, exactly. There isn’t. But that doesn’t stop people from pretending there is,” I say.

“Ha! Seriously, Shrimpy?” Floyd rolls over on the bleachers to look at me. “Your world’s hilarious. There’s no magic but a bunch of people pretend there is?”

“Sort of? I mean, there’s all kinds. People who claim to be psychics are the most common. But they’re usually just using magic to pretend to be psychic. Like spoon bending or moving things with their minds.”

“Spoon bending?” Floyd says, mood deflating. “Who cares about bending spoons?”

“It’s an old trick,” Ace says. “You just wear down the spoon beforehand and you can make it bend or break really easily. But it’s just a trick. It’s not even a cool one.”

“Yeah, it’s stupid, but some people believe in it anyway.” I shrug. “I never did. I liked watching the debunking videos online, actually, where people talk about how the trick is done. And there are fortune tellers, too, the ones who can tell you how many kids you’re going to have or who you’re going to marry or whatever.”

“We do have divination here as well,” Jamil says. “There’s a method we do in the Scalding Sands with coffee grounds.”

“Oh, like tea leaf divination,” I say. “That’s supposed to be a method of telling the future at home. It doesn’t work, though. Or, well, it’s not very helpful if it does.” I pause, then add, a bit too hopefully, “Does it work here?”

Floyd shrugs. “Azul looked into it once. ‘Cause he said it would help with stocks.”

“And?” I prompt when Floyd doesn’t continue.

“He didn’t invest in it,” Floyd says. “So it couldn’t have been that impressive.”

“He must have found a lot of desperate charlatans,” Jamil says, voice thick with derision.

“Those sorts always are. There are old tricks that are supposed to tell the future- we have one in the Scalding Sands, with coffee- but they’re not very specific. And they aren’t specific to mages- anyone can do them.”

“It’s like the stuff in my world, then,” I say. “That stuff doesn’t usually work. Or it’s so vague that it could mean anything, so you could interpret anything that happens as part of it.”

“It doesn’t need a mage, but it’s still supposed to be using some kind of ambient magic. And you’ve got people who talk about destiny and fate, say the grounds are supposed to be tapping into that.” The derision in Jamil’s voice is getting thicker by the second. “But it is vague. It’s not intended to be real advice, just a bit of fun.”

“The Barnum Effect,” I muse, then hurriedly explain. “It’s the idea that if you make a vague enough statement, people will tend to agree with it, and think it’s specifically about them, no matter how nonspecific it is. A lot of personality tests do that. They’ll tell you, ‘oh, you’re a person who likes people, but you like your alone time when you feel overwhelmed!’ and people will think it’s specifically about them when it could actually be about anyone, because everyone feels like that sometimes.”

“Woah, Shrimpy,” Floyd says. “You get kind of riled up about this stuff, huh?”

“I got kind of into debunking stuff for a while, like I said.” I scuff my foot against the bleacher in front of me. “There’s no fortune telling magic?”

“If there was, I think Azul would’ve gotten it by now,” Floyd says. “He’d go nuts for that kind of thing.”

“There are rumors of signature spells that can give people glimpses into the future, or at least, into potential futures,” Jamil muses. “But they’re rumors. No one knows if they’re real. And then there are talks of forbidden magic that can predict the future, but no one’s sure about that, either. Time magic is a strange subject. You’d have to be close to a Draconia-level mage to manage it.”

I wasn’t exactly pinning my hopes on time travel magic, but… It’s a disappointment to have that door closed on me. Jamil glances at his phone and makes a face. “Practice time is pretty much over,” he says. “And I don’t think we’re getting anything else done.” He waves his arm to the other boys who are still dribbling a basketball around the court. “Hit the showers!”

Floyd draws himself up and lopes amiably toward the locker room door. Apparently, he tends to get really into long showers. Ace says that he uses up all the hot water if you let him.

Speaking of, Ace leans over me to take his bag back, stowing the cards inside as he goes. “I’ll be seeing you, Gray,” he says.

“Ace!” I call after him as he moves toward the locker room. He turns to look back at me, still walking. “Could you- could you maybe teach me some card tricks? Sometime?”

“Sure!” he calls back. “But you’re doing my math homework!” Before I can give the suitable response (either a middle finger or a loud raspberry) he turns and hurries into the locker room. Well, whatever. He just said ‘done.’ Considering my record with math, ‘done correctly’ isn’t likely to be part of the deal.

Read the next chapter here.

#twisted wonderland #a million and one minutia #twst #twisted wonderland fanfic #yuusona #ace trappola #floyd leech #jamil viper

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nochi-quinn · 3 months ago

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exandria unlimited: divergence: episode three: dynasties and dystopias

First time doing this in notepad++ bc Fuck All That Noise, let's see how that goes

(context is microsoft is putting notepad behind a paywall)

the way it's going is I managed to get pulled away from my computer for the EXACT length of the ads lmao

yk I guess I could have used Sublime Text. ah well, I'm here now

one-shot of keph's cult when

oh celia's top is Nice

so is alex's

SO IS LIAM'S EVERYBODY STOP BEING PRETTY (don't actually)

otto no

this is just the mafia. this is how mafias start.

fiedra hugging their knees

"DON'T LOOK AT ME" mood

you can't make me cry about the kids fifteen minutes in, it's illegal

the colors in nia's art are so tasty

like a claddagh but a locket?

knowing mentor? not knowing mistress? am I misremembering something?

crokas is her kid now. joint custody with fiedra

you can't make me cry about the mom twenty minutes in, it's illegal

fiedra

AH knowing mentor same thing, interchangable god name

(I have not read Explorer's Guide to Wildemount)

okay but fast forward twenty years and torm's hill has a guard force called the seven swords

garen be nice

erro puts the team on his back

turn into goldfish and throw yourselves off

you're (mostly) level one, you're practically gods, it'll be fine

skeleton crab bucket??

"bones."

she's little, she's hard to see

"DANGIT"

"you're all under arrest"

why do I drink things while watching this, I inevitably choke-laugh

garen be nice

CAPTAIN GUBBLING

captain gubbling one-shot when

I am the snow guardian, guardian of the snow

"with our crosSBOWS"

"who doesn't like joy? you sort of have to"

GOD I wish I liked D20, brennan's NPCs are some of my favorite NPCs

"he left a boot"

"or drag a hoe" BE STRONG CELIA

(one time my brother and I got sent away from the table bc my dad kept talking about a "broken hoe" and we could not. stop. giggling.)

"is this the sea"

what is liam doing to his character's parents this time

dead parents AND dead spouse, he's going for a hat trick

crokas no

"you can't breathe down there"

crokas rushes in

if the only fire is a candle, the meal was cooked long ago

thee shield

"there has never been a week like this week"

liam

nat 20 to stealth into the trap

I'M SORRY WHOMST

YELLS

crokas solve puzzle

gee crokas how come mom lets you have TWO vestiges

patia counts, shut up

meanwhile nia gets thrown off the mountain

liana throws herself off the mountain

I was joking

I was JOKING

I stepped away, is the moonweaver hiding in liana?

oh, moonweaver WAS liana

please read edda-earth

OH nia is the proof of concept for clerics!!

moon bone cheek light bone hook hand car door man

"yeah! yeah we will!"

my roommate's been playing avowed and at one point I just turned around and went "is that fuCKING MERCER"

I just remembered that the moonweaver canonically tried to murder artagan for being a fuckhead

you broke crokas

did the orb give him an int point

it gave him SIX points!! it DOUBLED!!

can't wait for them to need those 20s later

ORB OF AVALIR

I didn't even clock the wis bump!!

no shut the fuck up immediately I will cry on you

HE MADE IT

I WILL CRY ON YOU

I STILL want someone to play cerrit's great-great-whatever descendant

"boarding a ship" shut the fuck your mouth

"I'm gonna end up carrying that, aren't I"

crokas is getting used to knowing things

"I don't know if I like smart crokas. he scares me."

does matt realize he's still "holding" the hammer

"I just realized how weird kephkedriel is"

is anyone here old enough to remember when windows would ask you Where Would You Like To Go Today when you turned the computer on

still no respect for crokas

them's ents

"would you like some magic nuts" BE STRONG ALEX

LIAM

alex fought so hard and liam just dove straight for the low-hanging nuts fruit

aw, I was wondering if he'd take draconic from the thing, I also like this better

they had to get at least one

"that's for the theatre people at home" "I'm right here" "go home"

ah yes, the magic 8 ball spell

not. what I was expecting.

"matt's running up to his bedroom"

yeet a tree onto the field

yeet a bunch of fire onto the field

matt just made me remember 311, I will be crumbling into dust presently

guys you're still only level one please

YOU'RE LEVEL ONE

GAREN ISN'T EVEN THAT

we love a tail attack

he remembered!!

BRENNAN THEY'RE LEVEL ONE

matthew

alex is in suffering

(matt and liam are having the time of their lives)

"laura bailey would be so proud"

do not say "mouthful of nut", do not say "mouthful of nut" -

dear The Dice please let him pull this off

shove IS a bonus action

aw, he can count now

"pelvically"

awakened shield!

"what time is it?" "it's clobberin' time"

dagger dagger dagger

well. crossbow dagger dagger

fuck yeah unicorns

these fucking nerds

I ship these old men so badly

thousand burning suns, etc

"flecked with white stone" I WILL CRY ON YOU

"I will cry as much as I am asked" "usually you have to pay good money for that" matthew

"I'm not carrying it"

ofc they made this silly moment heartwarming/breaking

alex you have to stop quoting stuff under your breath. I understand, I am that person. but also.

this is what breaks garen

big "ELVES CAME FROM SPIRITS" energy

"by road's end" BRENNAN

armley

his house is named sleevely

bc you keep your armleies in y- [giant hook yanks me off stage]

key's cursed

key punned, yeet the key

this is the lockpick thing merle had in balance

"I wish I was still dumb"

quick get fiedra a ukelele so she can apologize properly

MAH BOI

[elderly stammering]

garen get on that fucking boat so help me

GAREN GET ON THE BOAT

insight check the key

cross-examine the parrot

"whatdayisit"

#exandria unlimited #critical role #spoilers #live blog #reaction post #crititag #exutag #critrole liveblog

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m0llygunn · 2 years ago

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candy curse (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: like a grim curse, each and every halloween night you are doomed to the worst of belly aches... noble hearted as always, eddie works his own magic to soothe your woes

cw: candy overconsumption; no comments made by eddie (or anyone) about how much candy reader has eaten, candy being 'bad', or negative talk about eating; fluff; comfort. an: the summary makes it sound like smut but its not its just candy lol wc: 1.8k

This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Not by a long shot.

If truth be told, you are well versed in the Halloween candy belly aches– so well versed that it seems nearly impossible for you not to do it. Every year, belly ache after belly ache, you still remain none the wiser. There is nothing that anybody could say or do that could prevent this yearly occurrence, and Eddie is well aware of that.

“Think that’s it for the trick or treaters tonight,” he says exuding the confidence of a veteran candy-giver-outer.

Passing from the kitchen to the front door, he locks the deadbolt, switching the front porch light out. He’s not wrong though, the last group of trick or treaters must have been an hour ago. It’s safe to say the night is yours and Eddie’s now.

“That was fun!” you sing excitedly.

Normally the party goers, this year you both decided subdued was the move, and subdued meant handing out candy at Eddie's place for the very first time. Veteran candy-giver-outers you are not, but it was cozy and cute seeing all the kiddies parade in their costumes with Eddie. It felt like domesticity at its peak and you can only hope to see more of it in your futures.

He crosses the living room towards the couch, aiming to sit next to you, but just nearly knocks his knee on the coffee table. The slight breeze of his close call sends a red coloured wrapper sailing to the carpeted floor, but neither of you bother with it just yet. Instead, he sits, handing you a glass of water that you didn't ask for but appreciate all the more.

“I didn't know so many kids lived in the trailer park these days," you say, eyes following him as he settles next to you.

“Oh yeah,” he says with a chortled emphasis. “So many. Arguably too many,” he jokes.

Taking a sip of the water, you set it down on the coffee table before leaning into Eddie. You lay your front against his side, resting your chin on his chest, tilting your face up to look at him. He meets your gaze, encouraging your closeness with arms that wrap around you, jetting out his lips— silently asking for a kiss. You close the distance without a second thought.

It’s a chaste thing, just a peck, but he pulls back with amused eyes and a widened smile as he licks his lips.

“You taste sweet,” he says.

“Yeah?” you ask, licking your own lips. He’s not wrong.

He licks his lips a second time, brow inquisitively quirking upwards. “Skittles or starburst?” he questions.

Grin wide as can be, “both,” you reply. He returns your flashy smile with mirth, shaking his head.

“Is that why you’re so sweet?” Boo. Corny and he knows it too with the way his smile pulls to the side, entirely too boyish, entirely too cute for you to call him out for it.

The stream of cult classic horror that has been the background noise of the evening becomes the main event as you both lazy away the rest of the night. After a few minutes of silent watching and tooth rotting cuddling, the black plastic cauldron at the front door begs for your attention. All of the shimmery and shiny contents— the dragon's wealth of mini chocolate treats and the witch's hoard of chewy colorful candy, it calls for you.

Eddie’s grip around your shoulders loosens as you slide from your spot next to him. Rolling off the couch, just barely falling to your feet, and quickly pushing up to a stance in a less than eloquent maneuver, he laughs softly as your lack of poise… or maybe he just knows what you're up to.

In a scurry, not unlike a wild creature of the night, you dash to the front door, grabbing the thin handle of the cauldron and claiming your goods. Eddie smiles at you, eyes beaming with what you hope is adoration.

“Bring it here then. We worked hard for that,” he says, motioning his head for you to come back, patting your seat with a heavy hand.

“Worked so hard,” you sigh through your giggle. “Seeing all of those adorable kids dressed up in cutesy costumes. Absolutely exhausting,” you continue, making Eddie laugh. Plopping back down on the couch you situate the cauldron to fit snugly between yours and Eddie’s thighs.

Like a couple of eager witches brewing the potion of the century, you and Eddie excitedly stir your hands through the cauldron, faces tilting downwards as you riffle for your pick of the metaphorical poison.

You, a fun-size twix bar, him, a mini box of milk duds, it’s all plastic crinkles and sticky teeth between the two of you. And of course, you can’t stop at just one. The marvelous collection of candy is far too enticing to not have more. Not to mention, it really is just plain addicting.

Brain rotting from the movie, you don’t even have the opportunity to notice how much candy you’ve eaten— especially when Eddie got up halfway through your milk-chocolate-candy-malt massacre and took all of the garbage with him. On his quick trip to the kitchen to get you a refill of water and himself a beer, he took all the physical proof of how much candy was consumed with him. At least if you saw the proof, maybe you would have gotten the hint to take it easy… or maybe you're just making excuses…

You truly had no idea how much chocolate and candy you had eaten until you felt the first sickly feeling in your stomach. Fortunately, it passed after a few minutes. Nothing a little water couldn’t fix— you made sure to drink lots.

Some more time had passed and you kept watching the movie. Eddie, the most thoughtful, cuddly companion, had offered you half of his Kit Kat, and you couldn’t say no. Then, to your demise, he opened a full sized package of pop rocks, pouring way too much of it in your mouth and the rest into his. The two of you crackled and popped together, giggling and laughing. What an image it must have been— the two of you huddled around the cauldron still, cackling like witches over the magic of pop rocks.

Gulping water like it’s anti-poison, you still felt relatively fine— the excitement of the night's little idiosyncrasies serving as the greatest magic circle, protecting you from yourself.

Unfortunately, as the night dwindled and the clock struck beyond midnight, you hadn’t stopped at the pop rocks. Possessed by the ghosts of Halloween, you went in for another twix, half a box of milk duds, some more skittles, and the devil knows what else.

You wish you could say it hit you all at once, but it was slow coming and your hand in the cauldron of candy was relentless. Eventually it was too much and you moved the cauldron to the coffee table, tapping out for the night. To say your stomach hurt was an understatement.

In the agony of your belly ache, you bit by bit began to take over the couch, sprawling yourself over Eddie in the process. First it was simply stretching your limbs out in an attempt to alleviate the overbearing pain in your tummy, then it was a little more than that as you leaned further and further into Eddie’s side. He had accommodated you, absentmindedly scooching over so you had more space for your body to stretch out and your legs to hang over the arm of the couch. He welcomed your head into his lap, running a hand over your forehead, petting down your hair.

Embarrassment kept you from saying anything. Every year you do this, and every year you swear up and down that it's the last. It never is, but that doesn't stop you from pretending. You put on your best brave face, but when you accidentally let out a low, zombie-like groan, Eddie looks down at you. Concern precedes his features, but amusement doesn't linger too far behind.

“Sore belly?” he asks. You can tell he's doing his best to hold back his smile to spare your feelings but the effort clearly isn't good because the corners of his lips still turn up.

You nod weakly, embarrassment gone with the wind. “Why didn’t you stop me?” you groan. He brings his palm to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

“It’s tradition,” he says fondly. He's not making fun of you… but he's making fun of you.

“It’s a bad tradition,” you say with a pained whine. His amusement in the matter takes over, and his good health is taunting. Totally ache free, he smiles widely at you.

“I don’t know…” he starts, eyes twinkling in a loving tease. “I always come out of it looking pretty good ‘cause I get to rub your belly and kiss you better.”

Pouting out your lip, you frown at him, focusing all your dwindling energy into pinching your brows. He tilts his face to the side, pouting his own lip out— mocking you.

“Eddie,” you whine, weakly lifting your arm to swat at him. He laughs, grabbing your arm and pressing a kiss to your wrist before setting it back down to your side.

“Well, think of it this way, at least it's just candy this year. Not candy and alcohol,’ he says, raising a brow.

Entirely unhelpful because it's entirely true— and does absolutely nothing to get rid of your belly ache. It also doesn't help that he still looks beyond pleased with himself, and you— you continue to live in envy of him for not feeling an identical wrath to the one simmering in your poor, poor tummy.

“We’ll see how good you look when I throw up pop rocks all over you,” you mumble, cuddling closer to him, closing your eyes to help ease the pain.

“My poor baby,” he laughs. Leaning downwards, he presses a kiss to the edge of your forehead.

“Rub my tummy please,” you ask pitifully.

“Course,” he replies. A warm, flattened palm finds its way to your stomach, rubbing gentle circles, helping you relax, banishing the ache with each tender loving pass of his hand.

What a dreadful thing to be hexed with. Like a spell casted, damning you year after year for the rest of your life, a haunting belly ache, each and every Halloween. Jinxed by your own foolishness.

Not even a kiss from your true love could save you… you have to admit, it does help though. If you have to live with this terrible, horrible curse, you’re absolutely bewitched to have Eddie’s kisses, cuddles, and belly rubs to get you through it.

–––––

happy halloween ty! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble

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thequietkid-moonie · 1 year ago

Text

Taking someone's place searching for safety

[ ONE-SHOT ] [ Touya Kinomoto ]

[ Card Captor Sakura ]

This idea has been living in my head for a while now, and I FINALLY was able to write it down!!! I totally loved the idea but im a little afraid that you won't

Is well known that a near-death experience can change a person, he knows that, still he doesn't really believe that excuse when it comes to you, you have been his friend for so long and he knows that something is off with you

Touya doesn't want to distrust you, specially when you have just survive an accident that almost killed you, but he can't help but feel weird when seeing you, even when you act like always it looks unnatural, like if it wasn't you, but then again, you always came with the excuse that almost dying can change anyone

Once the fuss over you finished you finally started to feel more comfortable and were able to try and start living in this new world, and, honestly, it was a little bit dificult, since you have all the knowledge that the other you had, still that doesn't make it all easy, despite having all the knowledge this was the first time you do it, so it take you a while to get used to this world. As well there was the curiosity of the new world, you wanted to see everything and experience a lot of things, but you always tried to cover it up or bring it up as a simple comment to your new friends, Yukito seem to don't mind it much while Touya always noticed your intentions but never says anything about it, at the end, you always managed to get to do what you wanted without really having to make a big deal out of it

Touya is incredibly smart and perceptive, plus with his own magic it will make it imposible for you to trick him, it didn't take him much time to understand that actually you aren't you anymore, someone else was pretending to be the one who used to be his friend, and even if he kept his guard up whenever you were around with time he got to know your true nature

Touya quickly understood that your intentions wasn't even close to be malicious, and even Yukito mentioned how you have been acting like a curious kid, so he decided to leave you be, but the desire to get to know the truth never left him, he was still worried about his friend and your attitude was so curious, besides he had start to notice that sometimes, when you are with them or even the first time you saw his sister and her friends your expression changed completely, even if it was just a second that you let the act fade away, letting him see such melancholy that even he felt like he was missing something

It was obvious that you won't say anything about this on your own, so when he couldn't hold his curiosity anymore he decided it was moment to ask you, he make sure you two were alone in a comfortable enviroment, this wouldn't be some kind of court, he just wanted to know, and he actually makes clear that he just want to know, he already know that you aren't exactly who you say to be and he will like to know why do you pretend to be his friend

He tried to be as calm as posible, but for you this was like a death sentence, you have being warn that it could be dangerous if someone found out so you tried to act innocent and ask what he was talking about, but when he insisted that he already know you couldn't do anything but start crying and apologizing, what immediatly startled Touya since this wasn't his intention

Touya did his best to help you calm down, assuring you that he only wants to know the truth, he won't tell anyone else if you prefer and even apologize if he came across as rude, after a while you finally calm down a little (thanks to his helps) and just give up, deciding to tell him everything

The truth is that you are his friend, but at the same time you're not, you are the version of them from another world and you managed to travel across the dimensions to take their place, they was supoused to die in the accident, so you just took their place that day and continue with their life

You intentions have never been bad or malicious, honestly, you just wanted to have the opportunity to actually have a life, you came from a world where even living seems like a sin, a world so hostile that everyone is searching for a way to escape, to the point that they are even willing to wander the universe for an eternity if that means getting away from there, and you were one of those who tried to escape across the universe, what you have done was an experiment, one of the first tries so there was a high chance that you soul wouldn't reach its destination and will wander around the stars until fades away at the end, and the only reason you overcome your fear and accepted it was to help the project improve and give a better change to your friends and family

You admited too that now that you are here there is no way to go back to your world, so you decided to live this new life and enjoy it since you know your loved ones will have the same opportunity soon, but is more likely that you won't see them again, at least not the ones you used to know, that is why seeing the versions of them of this world sadden you but at the same time comfort you

You know this is crazy and he probably won't believe you but that is the truth, although, at the end he believes you, or decide to do it, he knew you weren't the one he used to know, but now you are his friend too, and what kind of friend he will be if he didn't help a friend when they need it. From that day Touya started to silently help you in whatever you need, he is already used to notice those little hints of you struguling with something that is rather simple for this world (since is new for you) so now he just help you with whatever you are struguling with without even you having to ask, as well he start to bring to the conversation things that he thinks you may like and even lets you stay close to her sister if it remids you someone important

At the end Touya can't help but grow to care for you just as much as he cares for his little sister or Yukito, at the end (and thanks for telling him the truth) he grow closer to you and considere you like family, what lead him to also be protective over you in his own way

#card captor sakura #card captor sakura x reader #ccs x reader #touya kinomoto #touya kinomoto x reader #touya x reader #x reader #x gn reader #anime x reader #manga x reader

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howlingday · 2 years ago

Text

Cinder Kills BMBLB

Yang: (Struggling against Cinder)

Blake: Jaune, do you think Yang can win against Cinder?

Jaune: Yang is the strongest woman I know. She's always been an absolute powerhouse who could take on the heaviest hitters, AND has the Spring Maiden power to back her up. If anyone has a shot at killing Cinder, it's-

Yang: CHOKE ME HARDER, QUEEN~!

Jaune: No, I don't think Yang is going to win.

Cinder: Did... Did you just call me "queen"?

Yang: Of course! It's always been my dream to be dominated by a strong woman!

Blake: ...

Jaune: ...YANG! SHE MURDERED ALL OF REMNANT! EVERYONE WE KNOW, AND THAT INCLUDES YOUR SISTER!

Yang: I'm about to fucking wet myself~!

Jaune: We're fucked. We're literally fucked.

Cinder: Great... ANOTHER pervert simp.

Yang: You literally look like a whore from the grimdark universe. How much gene seed did you collect in your time of only war?

Cinder: (Growls, Squeezes)

Yang: AGH~! OH~! F-FUCK~! ME~!

Cinder: (Cringes) Uh, isn't your girlfriend over there?

Yang: Nah... We broke up a week ago...

Blake: YOU BROKE MY HEART, ASSHOLE!

Yang: And yet you just couldn't pull off that bob cut style. Who really broke whose heart?

Blake: Eat him.

Jaune: BLAKE!

Cinder: Ooh, now there's an idea~! Let me show you a little magic trick I picked up from Salem. (Casts spell)

Yang: (Cookie) Wait?! Am I about to be eaten?!

Cinder: Why else would I make you so delicious? It should make absorbing your maiden powers all the easier.

Yang: Sweet! I'm gonna get vored, too?! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOO-!

Cinder: (Swallows, Grows long, blonde hair) Huh... This is new. Say, do either of you know what "vore" means?

Blake: (Smug grin)

Jaune: ...We're dead, aren't we?

Cinder: (Activates All-Maiden Powers) Ah! Now THAT I do know!

#rwby #daitomodachi #blake belladonna #jaune arc #yang xiao long #cinder fall

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lorillee · 13 days ago

Note

Just finished it! Assorted thoughts:

I like that Keith and Jack just kept showing up, I think it's fun when minor villains keep coming back with new, escalating schemes

Shigaki's shirt is nice

Mortimer is probably the fastest/most abruptly a character has been killed (not in a narrative sense, in the sense that there's music playing right up until he gets shot and instantly falls dead)

Jason's death fakeout was successful on me both times it happened, I went from "Oh shit that's right, I should've figured that at least one ally would die" to "Right, I guess they have done fakeouts like this before, makes sense" to "Wait did they trick me into thinking it was a fakeout just to reveal that it was real?" to "Ok, he's alive after all, good to know"

Unless I just happened to get unlucky and experienced a bug, why doesn't Raymond's fight end with a QTE? If it wasn't a glitch, then I'm pretty sure he's the only final boss to not do that

I don't even know what to say about Raymond's death tbh. Easily the most wild death a villain has ever gotten

I had a feeling that the elixir of life wouldn't be completely fake, but I certainly did not expect them to go about it by saying "The treasure is real, but there is no elixir of life. Just kidding it was real the whole time, but to keep things grounded it's not magic, it's made from something that exists in reality"

The Ichiban cameo made me smile. If we were seeing that whole thing from his perspective, there'd be substory music playing

TRUEE i kept getting which one was which confused though. truly i empathized with majima more than anyone else on planet earth when he kept forgetting like u and me both brother.... u and me both........

dude im in LOVE with shigakis shirt i saw some similar but less cool ones on depop like the other day and i was like man.... Just like shigaki........... i want it........... <- did not buy. <- actually its so bad i need to STOP trying to model my wardrobe off of yakuza characters because like i straight up almost got a pair of black leather pants cuz i was like dude... just like majima..... But they sold them to someone else so i got the red leather pants instead LOL (<-girl who is still planning on getting black leather pants anyways

also true i honestly did get jumpscared

SCREAM yeah pretty much. i was like DUDE ARE THEY GONNA KILL HIM??? But then i thought about it and i was like nahhh no way... maybe...... Probably...... but narratively speaking it wouldve been bizarre if he died so im happy with how it went

ill be honest i genuinely dont remember LOL

YEAH. REALLY FUNNY. LOVED IT

yeah like there was too much emphasis placed on it for it to not be real just beacuse that would be an impressively lame letdown. and of course bryces whole situation severely implied there was Something weird going on

TRUEEEEEEEE

Also. That post i mentioned. its super long so if u dont read it i understand. HOWEVER . its a tremendously good analysis and well worth your time and im bonkers crazy insane about it So if you get the time. you really should

#ask #krafterwrites

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saturnalmoss · 2 years ago

Text

ARM-WRESTLER

Chapter Four

A Shot in the Arm

Master Post

The morning came with Rosé looking hard at the orcish outfit she had been lent. “...Would it be rude to wear with some of my spares...” She looked over at the extra set she’d taken from her pockets.

“Mmm, g’morning.” Grandma plodded sleepily back from the anachronistic bathroom in the hall. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“I wanted to go check out the DMV Trans or whatever.” Rosé said.

“KMB, like Kimberly.” Grandma offered.

“I don’t know if it would, you know, get me more or less information to dress like I came out of a time machine.” Grandma nodded and sat next to her.

“If it helps, I think Granny Skully mostly wanted York to wear the stuff.” She said. Rosé hummed again.

“It’s cute and I want to wear it,” Rosé said.

“Oh totally, I’m gonna. Personally.” Rosé nodded. “But no pressure!” She nodded again.

There was a knock at the door. “Heyyyy,” Hinpirdul called from outside. “Y’all want a bite?”

The two detectives sat at the second, private, dining table with Leon’s youngest, waiting for York to finish his morning routine.

“I heard chatting, and food isn’t til 8 so. I dunno, I thought you would want something.” She shrugged.

“Thank you!” Grandma said.

“You up this early often?” Rosé asked with a disarming smile. Hinpirdul nodded.

“It’s wretched. I’d way rather sleep in.” She said. “So, you gonna find the guy that attacked my Narri today?”

“We’re hoping.” Grandma said. “Did you think of something, Hinpirdul?” She shrugged.

“Honestly it’s hard to imagine someone doesn’t like them. You should see my teachers. It’s gross.” She scooped up another large bite of modern cereal. “You can call me Piri, by the way. Except at work. Full names at work.”

“Sure thing, Piri.” Rosé said. “Can we ask you some other stuff?” She nodded, mouth full. “Is there anyone else that comes around the house a lot, that we didn’t see last night?”

Piri shook her head. “Even Uncle Ardsley isn’t here all the time. He has work.”

“Does he work with your Narri?”

“Nah. I mean. I don’t think so?” Piri shrugged. “Oh, no one else, though. I go to my friends’ places, not come here. Cause it’s boring here.” She thought for a minute. “Jyuri’s the same. Ummm. What else...”

“Is your Narri a single parent?” Rosé asked as carefully as she could. Piri paused. She put the spoon down.

“Yeah. Momma died. A long time ago.” Rosé and Grandma both put hands on hers, and she laughed a little at them. “I don’t actually even remember her so it doesn’t bother me. Jyuri does. And obviously Narri and Granny do.”

“We’ll ask your Narri about it more, then.” Grandma said gently. Piri shrugged.

“I don’t think it has to do with Narri’s arm. It was a long time ago.” Still, regardless of what she said, Piri seemed deflated from the conversion.

“So, I noticed you like disappearing tricks.” Grandma asked.

Piri’s head swung to Grandma immediately. “Do you know any!” she asked. Grandma laughed nervously. “You look just like a real street performer.”

“Nope! Uh, I do?” Piri nodded enthusiastically. She gestured to all of them.

“I know some,” Rosé offered. With a flick of her fingers, she copied the coin trick Leon had pulled the night before. Piri looked shocked, then her eyes narrowed.

“Sus.” she said.

“What?” Rosé said, “Why?” Piri just hummed discontentedly.

“Hey, you lot.” Leon slipped through the door and yawned. “You’re up early. I appreciate the dedication.”

They pulled some breakfast things out of the pantry. It was discordant to see the colorful cereal boxes and familiar brands in the old world orcish pantry. “I’m out of the house for most of today, by the way.” They said. “If you need to ask me anything, now’s a good time.”

“Rosé knows magic.” Piri said immediately.

“Oh?” Leon said. Their hair was mussed and sleep clung to them. “Is this good or bad?” Piri only hummed. Rosé was baffled.

Leon laughed. “Piri’s just obsessed with street performers lately? It’s cute.” They shook their head and gave her hair a tussle. “No idea what’s gotten in to her. I’m teaching her some magic tricks.”

“We saw at dinner last night,” Grandma said. “You’re really good!”

Leon looked at them. “If you’re interested in that stuff too, feel free to come with.” They offered ceramic mugs. “Coffee? I’m more of a night owl, so I’m making a full pot.”

Leon sat and poured themself some cereal. “Thanks, I try. Mm, actually,” They looked at Piri. “We’re going to meet that fortune teller this evening, aren’t we, Piri?” She looked pleased and just a little devious.

York declined the mug and searched the shelves for a bucket. Rosé took one and looked at the cartoon vampenguin on the side. Leon put a finger to their lips and winked.

“We get to have little things like that in the private rooms.” They said. “So, what’s your plan? I’m curious, I’ve never seen detectives work.”

“You can follow us around,” Grenda said. “We could see if anyone has a weird reaction to you.” Leon shook their head.

“Not today, I have a previous engagement to attend, then Piri’s thing. Perhaps later, if you haven’t solved it.”

York stretched and grunted happily. The back yard of the old house was a nostalgic treasure trove. Traditional, even old-fashioned, orcish workout equipment sat around the edges of the yard. A large inset pit for good old argument-settling took up most of the space.

“This place ain’t bad.” York said to himself and pointedly not Granny.

He’d gotten a sizable workout in when Rosé and Grandma found him. He grinned at them. “Look at this place! I shoulda taken Granny up on the wrestle.” He said. “Too late for that, well, we got business to attend to.”

Rosé smiled. “I found the local address for that logistics place. We can catch the subway and get off pretty close to it.”

“I like the outfit Granny gave you by the way.” Grandma said. He posed, pleased. “What do you think of mine?”

York nodded. “I like it.” He looked around. “Don’t look complete though.” He picked a small dandelion and held it out. “There.”

Grandma beamed and tucked it carefully behind one ear.

They made their way to the KMB Trans building by noon. It was a tall building for the area, and had the KMB logo plastered on the side of it. There was even a reception inside.

“What do we do now?“ York hissed to Rosé. She took a breath.

“No idea.” She walked up to the receptionist. “Good morning~ We’re here to ask about one of your employees, Mx. Pelles?” The receptionist looked curious. Her name card read “Sarah B. Ross”.

“Mx. Pelles? This doesn’t sound like an appointment...?” she said. Grandma peeking over the counter.

“We’re detectives, investigating a case of assault and theft committed against Mx. Pelles.” Sarah the receptionist looked surprised.

“What? They looked fine this morning?” The three detectives glanced at each other.

“They already came in today? You guys are dedicated to set up shop over the weekend.” Grandma said. Sarah smiled.

“I’m part of the weekend crew. Mx. Pelles honestly doesn’t come in much on my shift.”

“So familiar with each other, too!” Rosé smiled. “What a tight knit company, Ms. Ross.” The receptionist nodded.

“It’s nice here. Helps that it’s small. So, why would you come here about an- an assault on Mx. Pelles?”

“We ain’t sure who did the deed.” York said. “We’re looking into whoever might have a grudge.” He leaned in. “You got a grudge?” Sarah leaned back.

“N-no!”

“Mmm, you don’t sound too sure about that.”

“Maybe a liiiittle grudge?” Rosé suggested, holding up her thumb and forefinger.

“How! Mx. Pelles is great! They’re so nice and fun and sweet - uh.” She coughed. “I assure you my relationship with Mx. Pelles is purely professional.” She looked away. “Unfortunately.“

Rosé waggled her eyebrows. Grandma crossed her name off in his notebook. “Right, of course,” he said. “I have heard that popular enbies sometimes have jealous enemies, though.”

“Yeah.” Said York. “They got anyone who thinks they get too much attention?” He leaned on the counter and Sarah leaned away again.

“N-no! I don’t think so! Everyone likes Mx. Pelles and Mx. Pelles likes everyone!” She sat up straight. “I hope that answered your questions! Uh, if you don’t have an appointment then I’m afraid there won’t be anyone here waiting for you. Being a weekend and all.”

“Course,” York said and leaned back.

“Thanks for answering our questions!” Grandma said. The three of them headed back out and Sarah sagged in her seat. She waited cautiously a moment, then jogged quickly to the bathroom.

Rosé peeked back inside. “I knew it - York scared her shitless.” York peeked in above her and nodded satisfied.

“So, Leon came here today?” Grandma said. The three of them walked quickly through the door next to the desk before the receptionist came back. “They didn’t offer to bring us.”

“I don’t think we mentioned we wanted to check here today.” Rosé said. “But even still...”

They listened at the solid doors down the hall but the floor was empty.

“Where do you think they would go?” York said. “I don’t want ta check every door on every floor. Let’s do this smart.”

There was a thunk above them. York nodded. “Good talk everyone. Let’s check there first.”

One floor up, they pressed their ears against the doors until they heard muffled raised voices. The detectives looks at each other, curious.

The door was heavy and wood. While they could tell there were voices, it was difficult to make them out. Still, the tone wasn’t friendly.

“...I think they said quit...” Grandma whispered. “I think it was Leon...?”

York frowned. He couldn’t hear them at all. He stood up and opened the door. “Hey.” He said. “What are you talking about.”

Leon turned, shocked, to look at them. A human man stood, hands flat against a desk between the two. He stood and straightened his clothes out. Leon coughed and forced themself to relax.

“Who on earth are you?” The man asked. He was dressed formally, dark suit, dark tie, and a dark cloak pinned to one shoulder.

“Ah, uh.” Leon said, turning to the man. They smiled. “Let me introduce you. This is York, Rosé, and Grenda. They’re detectives from an agency called Drawtectives.” Leon turned to them, gesturing to the man. “This is Mr. Brian Kross, my employer.”

He bowed to them. Both stood comfortable, as though there were never any tension. “Nice to meet you. Have you hired detectives, Leon?”

“Yes, indeed!” Leon said with a smile. “I was telling you someone robbed me, wasn’t I?”

“To hire private detectives over a robbery seems a bit much.” Mr. Kross said. “Didn’t I offer you additional compensation to cover the cost?”

“You see, it’s important to me to find out who did it.” Leon said.

“Of course, of course.” Mr. Kross said. “But why are they here?”

“Uh,” Leon looked at them.

“We’re investigatin’ possible grudges.” York said. “You got a grudge, Mr. Kross?” Kross laughed.

“Dear me, no. I rather like Leon.” Leon smiled, a little stiffly.

“Even though they’re quitting?” Grandma asked. Kross’s lip twitched.

“Eavesdropping on the job? Or did you mention it, Leon?”

“I mentioned it.” Leon said, looking out the window. “I did also say I hadn’t talked to you about it yet, so I didn’t think you would be a suspect.”

Grandma nodded. “Of course, yes, yup. But also maybe Mr. Kross sensed it.”

“Sensed it?” Kross said. Grandma shrugged.

“Do you own the company, Mr. Kross?” Grandma continued. He nodded.

“I’m happy to say I do.”

“Your name isn’t who came up as CEO when I boogled KMB.” Rosé said, looking thoughtful.

“The CEO is, of course, an employee of mine. Like Mx. Pelles, here.” Kross smiled. York held a finger up.

He pulled Rosé and Grandma into a brief huddle. “This guy’s a business man again.” He whispered. “Don't smell right to me.” Grandma nodded.

“It’s suspicious on the face of it! Plus Leon’s quitting!”

“Let’s play some hardball...” Rosé said. They stood back up. Leon and Kross both watched them with bemusement.

“Mr. Kross, can we ask you a few questions?”

“...Of course, I’m happy to help Leon out.” He sat down behind the desk and perched his head delicately on laced fingers.

“What do you think of untapped resources?” York asked. Mr. Kross tilted his head.

“Why is it untapped?”

“What about debts, are you responsible for your debts?” Rosé said immediately. Grandma scribbled.

“Heh heh heh.... Everyone is responsible for their own debts, wouldn’t you say?” Kross grinned and looked at Leon, who raised an eyebrow back.

“You like gamblin’?” York said.

“A touch, of the investment flavor.”

“Would ya arm wrestle?” He leaned in.

“Well, I can’t say it's come up, -”

“Do you know hypnosis?” Grandma said.

“What is going on here, Leon?”

Leon laughed. “I have no idea. They’re just trying to find who stole my arm.” They glanced at Kross again. “Perhaps a clue indicated a gambling hypnotic businessman?”

Kross quirked an eyebrow. He glanced at York. “Arm wrestling?”

“He’s a strapping young orc.” Leon insisted. York nodded.

“If ya wrestle, prove it.” Rosé watched through her lashes as Kross glanced again at Leon, almost imperceptibly. Leon gave the shallowest nod in response.

Kross straightened up and sighed. “Young man, have you seen these arms?” He held one up. “If it helps to establish my innocence to you in this matter, I will, but you certainly won’t get any sport out of it.”

York chewed his lip thoughtfully. It was acceptable. “You pass. For now.” He said. Kross smiled crookedly.

“I’m glad to hear. Now, is there anything else I can help you with? I really must get back to discussing Leon’s recompense with them. Privately.”

Grandma looked down at his notebook. “Let’s see... Do you know anyone who might be harboring a grudge against Leon?”

“The very idea of it is farcical.” Kross said.

Leon walked them to the front of the building. “...If you had let me know you wanted to come here, I would have brought you.” They said, after a while. “Still, it was funny to see Kross like that. He doesn’t break expression much.”

“Why did you say we’d talked about you quitting?” Rosé asked.

“To be frank, to mess with him.” Leon shrugged. “I was a bit irritated. Well, I’ll talk to you later about it, if you want. I have to leave you here, for now. Get home safely.”

#drawfee #drawtectives #poscamarkers #fanfic #writing #saturnart

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bafflement · 1 year ago

Text

Deaged Oz AU - Crossing The Bridge... Or Not - Part 1

“And you’re certain you can trust the relic to get us to Vacuo?” Yang asked, staring at Tip, who shuffled slightly, biting his lip.

“I mean, mostly? They like creating things, and this would give them a challenge. But… if he gives you a warning, you have to listen to him. If you don’t, there could be very bad consequences. He might not necessarily tell you everything, either… you’ll need to listen very carefully and follow instructions precisely. I should really go with you, but…” he broke off, glancing down at his left leg in vague despair. It had healed, mostly… but the travel down to the vault was long and he wasn’t certain it would hold up for it, much less the trip back. He really hated feeling this useless, but… besides. There was too great a risk that Ambrosius would be distracted by sheer hilarity. After all, it wasn’t often that Oz was in a state this vulnerable and as far as he was aware, this one was unique. He both was and wasn’t Ozma, not fully, not yet. And yet, he’d also never really stopped being. The risk was far too great that Ambrosius, being who and what he was, would find Tip the more intriguing puzzle.

“Hey, Pocketsized. We’ll be okay. I promise we’ll listen, you don’t have to worry about us. Will you be okay, here? I know we’re not all going, but Salem already snatched you once, what if she tries to again?” Blake sounded concerned, reaching out to ruffle Tip’s hair without really thinking about it. Tip let her without commenting, which drove home just how worried he really was about this. But then, after what happened with Jinn, could any of them really blame him?

“She’s unlikely to try it in the same way. I just worry, especially since she already has the lamp. She could easily use it to try to thwart us and if that happens, I can’t even help you. Not really, not like this.” He sighed, looking very young in that moment, the inch or so showing at his wrists just lending itself more to the overwhelming image of confused youth. They all knew it was misleading but… Tip was really rather adorable when he did that, not that he’d be very happy to be reminded of it.

Those going exchanged glances, then Ruby shot a reassuring smile over at him. Penny just nodded, head cocked slightly. She still found it rather fascinating that this small boy was, or rather had been Professor Ozpin. She was aware of magic, of course. Not only had the General informed her of such, she was the current winter maiden. She hadn’t been built to believe in magic and fairy tales, but her father had intended her to grow. This was certainly growth of a sort, right?

Tip sighed as they left, still looking deeply conflicted. He should be there! He should be the one to talk to Ambrosius, he knew him far better than the others did. While creating a way to Vacuo would no doubt intrigue him, the relic could so easily trick anyone they talked to. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the others, of course he did… but they were still going to converse with someone who might not have their best wishes in mind. After Jinn… were the relics as tired of this as he was? What if, in the end, he allowed something to happen in the sheer hopes of being allowed to be free? After all, they were just as chained to the whims of the brothers as he himself was, and with even less freedom. At least he could move around on his own, wasn’t trapped in a vessel waiting. Why had that never even occurred to any of the previous versions, though? Surely, if it was as obvious as he thought it was, then they would have known by now? Would have set something up, at least enough that the four could have some semblance of lives of their own?

After all, even Ozma had never known just where the relics came from, what they originally were. What if they really were just as trapped as he was, was it possible to free them? Could he free them, did he dare, considering Salem?

Was it fair, to keep them trapped like that though? No, of course it wasn’t. They deserved their freedom… he really hated the Brothers, at times like this.

“Tip?” Oscar ventured, voice soft. “They’ll be alright, you know they will! Ruby knows what she’s doing, so do the others. It’ll be fine!”

“I can only hope that it will, Oscar. I just… they need to be incredibly careful in how they word this request, he’s likely to take things very, very literally. I should be there!”

“No way, Pocketsized.” Jaune interjected, looking stern. “Salem almost killed you, you’re not up to the journey. You know that, you know they’ll be okay!”

“And if they’re not? If something happens because they don’t say the right thing, or make slightly the wrong request?”

“Then we’ll deal with that when it happens. We need to get everybody to Vacuo, you know that.” Jaune sighed. “We’re hunters, Tip. We knew what we were signing up for. I know we’re young, but so are you, you’re eleven years old! I know the wizard doesn’t count, but you do. Putting yourself in danger when the others can and have volunteered for this, you realise we’d just worry more, right?”

“You are my students, Jaune. I should be the one protecting you, not the other way around. I know that I’m young physically, but still… I should be protecting the rest of you. If something goes wrong here, it falls on my shoulders. If I hadn’t been quite so, well, helpless, Salem would never have been able to snatch me in the first place. The injuries I carry are a direct result of my own stupidity.”

“NO, Tip.” Oscar sounded deeply frustrated now, glaring at the younger boy hotly. Tip flinched slightly, but met his eyes, his own self hatred burning bright. “Salem snatched you from Atlas. You were meant to be safe there, we all were. It isn’t your fault that she snatched you, you aren’t weak for being injured. Look, I know, you’re used to being stronger than you are right now. But if you plan to protect us, then you have to let us protect you, too. It goes both ways, we care about you! You matter, Tip. Why else would you be my brother?”

“… I know!” Nora interjected, brightly. “Why don’t we all just calm down and eat something. Pancakes, maybe?” She shot a hopeful look to Ren, who rolled his eyes but got up to make them anyway. Some of the tension in the room faded at that, though Tip’s shoulders were still stiff, his face still anguished. It didn’t matter what any of them were going to say, really, though. If anything happened to his students, everybody would just blame him anyway. He was the one responsible, ultimately. Oh, why had he let them go and talk to Ambrosius alone?

“So, you need a path to Vacuo, a way to get everybody from one kingdom to another quickly? I could probably do that…” Ambrosius murmured, amusement in his voice. “However… just don’t fall.”

Yang huffed as they all made their way back to the others who were waiting for them. That could probably have gone better, though at least Penny was human now? Somehow, though she was unsure what Pocketsized would make of that… after all, they had had a specific mission and that wasn’t really it. But then, with her human she couldn’t be controlled anymore. Nobody could tell her to do anything but herself. For a second, an image of Tip being controlled by the creepy wizard dude flashed across her mind, but she shook her head. It wasn’t the same thing, right? Ambrosius was a smug bastard, though. She really, massively didn’t like him.

From the looks the others were exchanging, that feeling appeared to be very, very mutual. He’d set up the path, though. They’d get there, they’d get to Vacuo. Everything would be okay, though she could see why the Professor was so worried. Maybe he really should have come along? Nah… they’d done just fine on their own.

Ruby’s nose twitched as they neared the rooms the others were currently occupying. Could she smell pancakes? Huh, maybe she was just hungry after dealing with the relic. Pancakes would be really nice right about now, though.

There were definitely pancakes, lots of them, though it was slightly harder to enjoy them while being peppered by Tip’s anxious questioning. At least he’d seemed relatively relieved by what Ambrosius had set up regarding the pathway to Vacuo? He kept giving Penny confused looks, too, and Yang snorted to herself. She’d totally called it, he really wasn’t that impressed.

Tip shifted in his seat, biting his lip nervously. He knew better than anyone the sort of loopholes Ambrosius left in the requests he actually agreed to answer.

Don’t fall.

But then, how hard could that really be?

#deaged oz au #ozpin #team rwby #oscar pine #ambrosius #the relics #rwby ozpin #professor ozpin #headmaster ozpin #li ren #nora valkyrie #jaune arc

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