#vision inspection solution

[intsofttech]

Intsoft Tech inspection case study, zipper appearance defect detection

[third-eyeai]

Innovative Quality Control: ThirdEye AI's Vision Inspection Solutions

Explore cutting-edge quality inspection solutions by ThirdEye AI. Revolutionize manufacturing processes with automated precision and accuracy. Detects defects seamlessly for superior product quality assurance. Trust ThirdEye AI's advanced vision inspection systems for efficient and reliable quality control.

[callmedaleelah]

— pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— i’ve never been a natural ; your parents force you to get a degree in biochemistry without knowing that you suck in this subject and that tall, lanky, blonde, and grumpy professor assistant is not helping either. so let’s the sufferings begin.

author’s notes ; no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

The first semester of university was supposed to be exciting. A fresh start, new people, and endless opportunities to make friends. But for you, the reality of university life was hitting harder than expected. You’d always been the type to light up a room with your cheerful personality, the kind of person who could strike up a conversation with anyone. Back in high school, making friends was easy. Everyone knew you as the bubbly, sunshine-like girl who could turn a gloomy day around with just a smile.

But university was different. Your class was full of students who already seemed to know each other, having gone through the same preparatory courses or coming from the same high schools. They formed tight-knit groups, and though you tried to insert yourself into conversations, your efforts were met with polite but distant smiles. You were left feeling like the outsider, constantly on the edge of every social circle, never quite fitting in.

To make matters worse, biochemistry was not your forte. You’d been pushed into this major by your parents, who had visions of you becoming a doctor or a scientist, though you had no idea what you truly wanted. Each lecture felt like a tidal wave of information, and you were drowning. The complicated formulas and scientific jargon left your head spinning, and despite your best efforts, you were struggling to keep up. You’d stay up late, poring over textbooks, trying to make sense of it all, but the material just wouldn’t stick.

In the laboratory, things weren’t much better. Practical classes were supposed to solidify your understanding, but they only highlighted how much you didn’t know. While your classmates performed experiments with ease, you fumbled with the equipment, your nerves getting the best of you. You’d accidentally knock over beakers, mix the wrong chemicals, or misread instructions. And every time, you could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, a silent judgment that you weren’t cut out for this.

It was during one of these lab sessions that you first encountered him—Kei Tsukishima, the tall, aloof senior who was assisting your professor. He was majoring in biochemistry and already in his sixth semester, which meant he was leagues ahead of you in understanding the subject. His sharp intellect was evident in the way he moved around the lab, explaining procedures with a cool, unruffled demeanor. But his tone was curt, his patience seemingly thin, especially when it came to freshmen like you.

On that particular day, you were tasked with a relatively simple experiment—preparing a buffer solution. Tsukishima had demonstrated the steps with meticulous precision, making it look effortless. But when it was your turn, your hands shook as you measured the reagents. You tried to follow his instructions, but somewhere along the way, you’d made a mistake. The solution was supposed to be clear, but yours had turned an alarming shade of pink.

Tsukishima noticed immediately. He was at your side in an instant, his tall figure looming over you as he inspected your work. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and you could feel your heart sink.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low but laced with irritation. “Didn’t you pay attention when I showed you how to do it?”

“I—I thought I did,” you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

He sighed, clearly exasperated, and reached for the flask. “This is all wrong. You added the acid before the base, didn’t you? How do you expect to get the right pH like this?”

You nodded, too ashamed to speak. It was a basic mistake, one that anyone should have been able to avoid, but here you were, messing up even the simplest task.

Tsukishima didn’t hold back. “If you can’t even get this right, are you sure you’re serious about this major? Biochemistry isn’t something you can just wing. You need to actually understand what you’re doing.”

His words stung, not just because they were harsh, but because they echoed your own doubts. You didn’t know if you were serious about this major. You didn’t even know if you wanted to be here. But this was the path your parents had laid out for you, and you were determined to make them proud.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, staring down at your ruined experiment.

Tsukishima’s gaze softened, just a fraction. He handed you another flask. “Start over. And this time, pay attention.”

You nodded, feeling like a chastised child. But as you started the experiment again, Tsukishima stayed by your side, guiding you through each step. He was still gruff, still critical of every small mistake, but there was something almost reassuring about his presence. He didn’t let you off easy, but he didn’t abandon you either.

As the class ended, Tsukishima reminded everyone about the upcoming lab report. “Make sure to submit your reports in the correct format and order. Any mistakes will cost you points. And remember, the deadline is non-negotiable.”

You listened intently, determined not to mess this up. But as you worked on your report that night, the instructions blurred in your mind, and when you finally submitted it, you realized too late that you’d made another mistake.

When Tsukishima called you out on it during the next lab session, his patience was even thinner. He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked over your report. “This is wrong. Again. Are you even trying?”

“I am!” you insisted, feeling the frustration welling up inside you. “I just… I don’t get it.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked, his voice cold. “Why did you even choose this major if you’re not going to put in the effort?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the tears. You hadn’t chosen this major. It had been chosen for you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to admit that, not to him, not to anyone. Instead, you just shook your head, feeling utterly defeated.

Tsukishima must have seen something in your expression because his tone softened, just slightly. “Look, if you need help, ask for it. Don’t just submit something half-done and hope for the best. You’re not going to get by on good intentions.”

And with that, he dismissed you, leaving you feeling more conflicted than ever.

[cutecowthing]

Milk Bath

[This is NOT detrans kink, 18+ only]

The stressors of everyday life were beginning to take their toll.

Between their crummy job, strained personal relationships and financial woes, Finn found it difficult to keep up. Their skin started to become dry and hard and a general feeling of unhappiness settled over them like a thick blanket.

One evening after work, they laid on the couch and scrolled through their phone like always. Such a monotonous activity only added to their ever-building misery, but what else was there to do?

Suddenly, an advertisement crossed their feed:

Milk baths are proven* to soften skin and promote relaxation! Get your free sample of Dr. M's Milk Bath Solution today!

That was all it took. Within a few days, the first shipment arrived at their doorstep.

The instructions were simple: pour one whole container into a tub full of warm water. For best results, soak for twenty minutes once a week.

Finn eagerly undressed and submerged themselves in the liquid. Almost immediately a delightful feeling of relaxation washed over them and they let out a sigh of relief. The fragrance was gentle but pleasant and wafted through the room like incense.

They noticed a tingling feeling beginning to occur in their breasts, but decided to ignore it. That was probably just the milk softening up their skin, after all.

After they finished soaking, they got out of the tub and dried off. As they glanced in the mirror they noticed the effects had been nearly instantaneous. It hadn't removed their problem entirely, but their skin looked noticeably smoother.

They inspected the empty bottle before getting ready for bed. 'It says once a week,' they thought. 'But it doesn't have any warning against using it more often. How bad could it be if I took one every day?'

So they used the milk bath solution daily. It was just so relaxing, it was almost addictive. When they were in it, the whole world seemed to fade away and their problems seemed so insignificant. Their thoughts slowed down, but they didn't mind. They didn't need them right now anyway.

It wasn't until a month later that they had noticed some... side effects. Their breasts had suddenly outgrown all their binders. But that was okay. It felt good to let them free. Their tits bounced and swayed when they walked and it made their thoughts slow down like in the milk bath. It was more fun to be thoughtless than to worry.

Soon they were spending more and more time in the bath. Their tits had grown at an incredible rate at this point. Buying bras was a fruitless endeavor; they'd just outgrow them in a couple of days. Finn didn't mind though. It felt so nice to let their huge milky tits jiggle.

One day, with their weekly shipment, something new came at the bottom of the box: skimpy lingerie, patterned in black and white cow spots.

They immediately disrobed and put on their new outfit. It came with a headband that had horns and cow ears, complete with a cowbell collar to go around their neck too.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place in their mind. Their thoughts were immediately flooded with arousal. They dropped to their knees with a soft moan and started rubbing themselves through their underwear.

They let out a gentle "moo" as they touched themselves. Moo, moo. It felt goooood to mooooo like a good cow. That's what cows do, after all.

Wet spots started to appear on their bra. Their free hand reached up and started massaging their tits, squeezing and groping them as milk continued to dribble out. They were really becoming a dairy cow, and that thought aroused them even further.

When they orgasmed, they couldn't help but groan a loud "Mooooooooo!"

Their vision got fuzzy. Their brain was totally empty, but their tits were still full with milk. They needed to be milked. It wasn't enough to do it on their own. They needed to make their tits as empty as their head.

A scent floated through the air as they began to masturbate again.

It was the smell of the milk bath solution.

[thecreaturecodex]

Terochilus

Image accessed from the Ultraman Wiki here

[Terochilus is a monster that makes a big impression in Return of Ultraman (being the star of a two-part episode), but with very little impact on the franchise outside of it. Which is a shame. It feels like Ultraman's Rodan the way that Arstron feels like its Godzilla. It has a weirder power set than Rodan, though, with its toxic webbing and shooting lasers from its nose. It kind of reminds me of The Giant Claw, in the sense of being a superficially simple flying kaiju that is totally bizarre on closer inspection, and I designed its stats intentionally to be a counterpart to my cacagnea.

In the show, its webs emit toxic gas on exposure to automobile exhaust, making Terochilus another pollution-themed kaiju. Since cars don't exist in Pathfinder, I changed the trigger to the webs getting extra dangerous to fire, which is the typical adventurer solution to webbing. That, and it makes the Terochilus' lairing in volcanoes synergistic, and very dangerous.

Also, I can't prove it, but I suspect that Terochilus' pterosaur with feathers look inspired the winged fakeosaur that came in the same set as the ones that inspired the rust monster and bulette]

Terochilus

CR 19 LN Magical Beast

This creature resembles a strange cross between bird and pterosaur. It walks on two elephantine legs, and has membranous wings growing like a cape from its human-like arms. It has a head and neck covered with feathers, and a long straight bill.

A terochilus is a bestial, vaguely avian predator, something like a roc writ even larger. They are found lairing on volcanic islands and are extremely territorial—a terochilus patrols the water near the island for whales, large fish and the occasional sea monster to eat, and drives away anything else entering its hunting grounds. This territoriality extends to their volcanic lairs as well. A terochilus usually lives near the caldera and lines its nest with thick ashy webbing. This webbing is flammable, but burning it produces a highly potent toxic gas that causes immediate unconsciousness followed by systematic organ failure. The terochiluses are immune to these noxious fumes, and encourage periodic fires to burn the webbing and fumigate their lairs.

Terochiluses usually do not see creatures of human size and shape as prey. The danger comes from their territorial instinct—they attack boats that steer too close to their hunting grounds. If forced from their lairs by a stronger monster, they may settle closer to inhabited areas and wreak havoc enforcing their new territorial boundaries. In combat, a terochilus usually opens by spraying opponents with webbing, and then closing to melee with entangled enemies. A terochilus possesses a powerful breath weapon, which manifests as beams of deadly force fired from its nostrils. This breath weapon does not recharge quickly, and most terochiluses use it as a weapon of last resort only.

Terochilus CR 19

XP 204,800

LN Colossal magical beast

Init +9; Senses darkvision 120 ft., low-light vision, Perception +22, tremorsense 30 ft.

Defense

AC 34, touch 12, flat-footed 24 (-8 size, +9 Dex, +1 dodge, +22 natural)

hp 346 (21d10+231)

Fort +23, Ref +21, Will +12

DR 20/magic; Immune poison; Resist fire 30, force 30; SR 30

Offense

Speed 40 ft., fly 150 ft. (average)

Melee bite +27 (4d6+14/19-20 plus grab), 2 claws +27 (2d8+14), 2 wings +22 (2d8+7)

Space 30 ft.; Reach 30 ft.

Special Attacks breath weapon (150 ft. line, 1 minute, 19d10 force damage),hurricane hover,swallow whole(AC 21, 34 hp, 4d8+21 bludgeoning),toxic webbing, webs (+22 ranged, range increment 30 ft., 150 ft. range, DR 10/-, 21 hp, DC 31)

Statistics

Str 39, Dex 28, Con 32, Int 4, Wis 21, Cha 15

Base Atk +21; CMB +43 (+47 grapple); CMD 63

Feats Acrobatic,Blind-Fight, Combat Reflexes,Dodge, Flyby Attack, Greater Vital Strike, Hover (B), Improved Critical (bite), Improved Vital Strike, Mobility, Power Attack, Vital Strike

Skills Acrobatics +21 (+25 when jumping), Climb +26, Fly +13, Perception +22; Racial Modifiers +8 Perception

Languages Ignan (cannot speak)

Ecology

Environment warm land

Organization solitary or pair

Treasure incidental

Special Abilities

Hurricane Hover (Ex) A terochilus gains Hover as a bonus feat. When it uses the Hover feat, it creates hurricane force winds in a 60-foot radius, regardless of its distance from the surface.

Toxic Webbing (Ex) A terochilus’ webs release toxic gas when they take fire damage. This gas fills a 30 foot radius from the webbing, and lingers for 1d4+1 rounds before dissipating. This toxin has the following properties

Web fumes—inhaled; duration 1/round for 4 rounds; save Fort DC 31; initial effect unconsciousness 1 minute; secondary effect 1d6 Con damage and unconsciousness 10 minutes; cure 1 save. The save DC is Constitution based.

[nomstellations]

XURK1TREE 👀 it's on nof my faves aughh

The Ultra Beasts were curious, yet dangerous visitors to the world unlike anything anyone's ever seen. Humanity sought to understand these alien creatures, but found that their native dimensions were dangerous for normal people to traverse.

That's where they came in. They were designated Ulysses.

A research android built to explore Ultra Space and collect data on the worlds within and the beasts that lived there. Equipped with their own team of pokemon in case they tried to attack, Ulysses was sent out on their maiden voyage into the unknown. They were instructed to return if things proved too dangerous, but they were built for this job and they would see it through. Chalk it up to the emotions they were programmed with, just in case they met any other people in Ultra Space.

Traveling was just as unpredictable as the studies showed. Ulysses wasn't sure where they ended up- their arrival in this Ultra World was rough, and only after running a diagnostics check to confirm nothing was damaged could they examine their surroundings. It was dark here, but strangely well-lit. The sky was a deep, dark blue near constantly lit by flashes of lightning, with thunder booming to announce each strike. Odd buildings dotted the landscape, monolithic and glowing a gentle blue. They didn't see anything around yet, but...the air was practically buzzing with electricity. It was uncomfortable to their sensors, and they didn't quite come prepared to deal with overcharging... The best solution was to move through quickly, find the beasts, gather data, and leave. Easy 20-minute expedition!

The buzzing in the air grew louder, almost painfully so, and the robot had little time to react to lightning striking VERY close to their position. Warning symbols flashed in their vision, the electricity was getting too much for them to handle and they had JUST arrived! Ulysses ambled away towards a rocky outcrop that provided some cover...but the storm likely wouldn't let up, and too much exposure would damage them and potentially deactivate them for good. It would seem they weren't nearly as prepared as their creators would've hoped...outside of the overflow of electricity, shame filled their circuits at the thought of their first mission being a failure.

Outside of the warnings flashing over their vision, Ulysses could pick up on movement. A sign of life in this barren place could only mean one thing- an Ultra Beast! What approached was easily twice Ulysses' size. It appeared to be humanoid in shape, but closer inspection revealed that its body was made of countless cables and wires, bound in some spots by glowing white bands. Its hands were purely metallic and sharp at the ends, looking like claws. Its head resembled a starburst, or maybe some kind of spark- visual analysis was a bit difficult due to their current state, but Ulysses recognized it as UB-03. A thick cordlike tail wagged behind it, and it was drawing ever closer to them...

Ulysses could note that its head was flashing at them. It was too rhythmic to be just random- could this be how it communicated? It wasn't like they understood, but they were in no position to do anything...they could feel some of their limbs shorting, causing them to jerk erratically. The beast flinched back, before drawing closer. A curious hand reached out, watching electricity jump between its finger and their body. After a moment of what seemed to be deliberation, it got closer. It didn't seem hostile at the very least-

Suddenly, Ulysses found themselves being hoisted up by the back of their suit. While it still didn't seem hostile, it was still well over twelve feet tall. It lifted the robot up a bit above its head, which tilted around a bit as if it was studying them. Then its other hand came up, moving towards its torso which was strangely "unbound" compared to the rest of its cablelike body. It opened itself up, wires parting and opening into a space that it was now lowering them into. Were they being...consumed? Ulysses was helpless to stop it from doing whatever it wished. At this point, it was preferable to being out in the harsh elements.

They were lowered into a loosely bag-shaped space, and the cables that parted to accept them inside moved to trap them. The inside of the beast was just as strange as the outside- the space shifted and pushed against them, with the internal cabling being covered in a light layer of some sort of slime. Blue lights traveled along the cables that surrounded them, particularly where their body touched the rubbery surface of the cables. Ulysses could feel electricity draining from their body...could it be leeching power from them? The warning symbols faded away as the excess electricity was leeched from them. As observed, this beast seemed to feed on electricity...the lightning strikes outside would likely keep it well fed. It wasn't likely it could digest them...but when was it going to let them out? Pressing at the cables did nothing for the research android. It wasn't drawing any more power from them, so this position allowed for some extensive data collection for the time being.

[iri-desky]

Genshin Impact Tumblr Simulator

🌠 TeyvatTraveler101 follow

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✨️ Paimon-Is-The-Best

TRAVELER WHY DO YOU HURT ME IN THIS WAY

156 notes

🎨 Kriedeprinz

Sometimes I wonder what the essence of Teyvat's visions are. What makes them work? What makes them tick? I've repeatedly inspected my vision for any signs of their specific magical origin...as an alchemist, I would have already done multiple experiments on the object to determine it's nature. As a vision holder, however, it's my duty to keep it safe...even though it can be considered simply a tool.

🎨 Kriedeprinz

ScientificSugar asked: You heard about what I did with my vision when I first got it didn't you

Yup.

547 notes

🏴‍☠️ Totally-A-Pirate follow

Do NOT go to Angel's Share. Worst experience of my life, got thrown out at midnight into the street because the bartender said he didn't like me and my drinking buddy 🙁🙁🙁 what an asshole

🍷DilucOfMondstadt

I threw you out because you were to drunk. Please do not come to Angel's Share with the intention of inappropriate behavior.

🏴‍☠️Totally-A-Pirate follow

*too

🏴‍☠️Totally-A-Pirate follow

HE FUCKING BLOCKED ME LMAAAOOOOO

810 notes

🛡 is-varka-back-yet

No. No, Varka is not back in Mondstadt yet.

#please help us #we're losing mods #is varka back yet? #probably never #stay tuned #Varka #Mondstadt

360 notes

🐍drbaizhu

milk

🐍drbaizhu

Cocjo goadt

🐍drbaizhu

I cannt frember

🐍drbaizhu

Hi everyone! This is the Dr. Baizhu again. Sorry for the strange posts, Qiqi got her hands on my Tumblr account again and started posting. 😅 I've locked my phone with a code and wrote down the code in a secure place in the office, so not to worry! This won't happen again. 😊

🐍drbaizhu

Hey everyone, please stop reblogging this.

🐍drbaizhu

WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THE NOTES PLEASE HELP

🐍drbaizhu

Mulk

2,671 notes

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🐋 TarTarTaglia follow

TIL that my birth name, Ajax, is derived from an ancient legend that referred to a hero called The Great Ajax! I think it's pretty fitting, don't ya think?

🐋 TarTarTaglia follow

I've also been told that the name Ajax "was sometimes said to have been derived from the old expression aiai, meaning 'alas!'" And the great Ajax also killed himself with a sword

🐋 TarTarTaglia follow

Bro's still cool though imo

564 notes

💧 TheRealFocalors

Poll #489

4,890 notes

[cyberpunkonline]

Cyberspace Sentinels: Tracing the Evolution and Eccentricities of ICE

As we hark back to the embryonic stages of cyber defense in the late 1990s, we find ourselves in a digital petri dish where the first firewalls and antivirus programs are mere amoebas against a sea of threats. The digital defenses of yore, much like the drawbridges and moats of medieval castles, have transformed into a labyrinth of algorithms and machine learning guards in today's complex cybersecurity ecosystem. The sophistication of these systems isn't just technical; it's theatrical.

The drama unfolds spectacularly in the cyberpunk genre, where Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics (ICE) are the dramatis personae. Let's peruse the virtual halls of cyberpunk media to encounter the most deadly, and delightfully weird, iterations of ICE, juxtaposing these fictional behemoths against their real-world counterparts.

We commence our odyssey with William Gibson’s "Neuromancer," where ICE is not only a barrier but a perilous landscape that can zap a hacker's consciousness into oblivion. Gibson gives us Black ICE, a lethal barrier to data larceny that kills the intruding hacker, a grim forerunner to what cybersecurity could become in an age where the stakes are life itself.

CD Projekt Red’s "Cyberpunk 2077" gives us Daemons, digital Cerberuses that gnash and claw at Netrunners with malevolent intent. They symbolize a cyber-Orwellian universe where every keystroke could be a pact with a digital devil.

The chromatic haze of "Ghost in the Shell" offers ICE that intertwines with human cognition, reflecting a reality where software not only defends data but the very sanctity of the human mind.

In Neal Stephenson’s "Snow Crash," the Metaverse is patrolled by ICE that manifests as avatars capable of digital murder. Stephenson's vision is a reminder that in the realm of bytes and bits, the avatar can be as powerful as the sword.

"Matrix" trilogy, portrays ICE as Sentinels — merciless machines tasked with hunting down and eliminating threats, a silicon-carbon ballet of predator and prey.

On the small screen, "Mr. Robot" presents a more realistic tableau — a world where cybersecurity forms the battleground for societal control, with defense systems mirroring modern malware detection and intrusion prevention technologies.

"Ready Player One," both the novel and Spielberg's visual feast, portrays IOI’s Oology Division as a form of corporate ICE, relentless in its pursuit of control over the Oasis, guarding against external threats with a militaristic zeal that mirrors today's corporate cybersecurity brigades.

And let’s not overlook the anarchic "Watch Dogs" game series, where ICE stands as a silent sentinel against a protagonist who uses the city’s own connected infrastructure to bypass and dismantle such defenses.

Now, let us tether these fictional marvels to our reality. Today’s cybersecurity does not slumber; it's embodied in the form of next-gen firewalls, intrusion prevention systems, and advanced endpoint security solutions. They may not be as visceral as the ICE of cyberpunk, but they are no less sophisticated. Consider the deep packet inspection and AI-based behavioral analytics that cast an invisible, ever-watchful eye over our digital comings and goings.

Nevertheless, the reality is less bloodthirsty. Real-world cyber defense systems, as advanced as they may be, do not threaten the physical well-being of attackers. Instead, they stealthily snare and quarantine threats, perhaps leaving cybercriminals pining for the days of simple antivirus skirmishes.

But as the cyberverse stretches its tendrils further into the tangible world, the divide between the fantastical ICE of cyberpunk and the silicon-hardened guardians of our networks grows thin. With the Internet of Things (IoT) binding the digital to the physical, the kinetic potential of cybersecurity threats — and therefore the need for increasingly aggressive countermeasures — becomes apparent.

Could the ICE of tomorrow cross the Rubicon, protecting not just data, but physical well-being, through force if necessary? It is conceivable. As cyberpunk media illustrates, ICE could morph from passive digital barricades into active defenders, perhaps not with the murderous flair of its fictional counterparts but with a potency that dissuades through fear of tangible repercussions.

In the taut narrative of cybersecurity’s evolution, ICE remains the enigmatic, omnipresent sentinel, an avatar of our collective desire for safety amidst the binary storm. And while our reality may not yet feature the neon-drenched drama of cyberpunk's lethal ICE, the premise lingers on the periphery of possibility — a silent admonition that as our digital and physical realms converge, so too might our defenses need to wield a fiercer bite. Will the cyberpunk dream of ICE as a dire protector manifest in our world? Time, the grand weaver of fate, shall unfurl the tapestry for us to see.

- Raz

[vicit-vim-virtus]

Starter for @darkestnightwilldawn

Fragments of glass cascaded down upon him. Now that the barrier between him and the outer world had been obliterated, the cacophony of bellowing flames and the howling of the wind inundated his ears. Whatever unconscious state he’d been in, gradually diminished and his blurry vision started to clear up. The dark, semi-organic architecture of the ship instantaneously called to mind what had transpired. The bastards had abducted him, incarcerated him and shoved a tentacled worm...

A searing pain — excruciating — suddenly gyrated inside his skull, puncturing his brain, burrowing deep into the intangible depths of his mind, his thoughts, his memories. The elf ground his teeth to prevent himself from crying out in anguish, and pressed the palm of his hand to his left eye and forehead — an inefficacious attempt to alleviate the pounding and the skull-splaying pain. Flashes of recollections scintillated before his mind’s eye. The illithid that restraint him with magic and forced the parasite in his eye, the same process being performed on other captives, the crude pool from which the monster fished the parasites. A clamour of screams, of pleads, of people banging their fists frantically — in vain — against the glass hatches of their pods — like he’d done — in order to break free. The dissonance still reverberated in his pointy ears and vibrated in his lithe body.

Unsure of the duration of his suffering, Luran eventually regained his wits and some control over his limbs. He carefully hoisted himself upright, brushing the shards of glass off him prior to disembarking the pod. When his feet hit the ground, the impact nearly knocked him off balance — evidently, his head hadn’t recuperated from the assault on the brain lying within. A feeling of nausea stirred in his stomach and unadulterated apprehension settled in his chest. After several heartbeats, he let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, and inspected himself for injuries, or worse, signs of tentacles, talons, or slimy and protruding brains. He couldn’t detect any wounds and though the exposed patches of skin were clammy, it was due to perspiration, not due to slime glands, or whatever organs or other anatomical aberrations caused mind flayers to appear so... moist. A cold, feverish shiver ran down his spine; he tried to exile the image to a tenebrous, inaccessible, abyss of the mind, and instead, tried to stay focused. Focused on a solution, focused on the task at hand, focused on getting off of the nautiloid.

Admittedly, he was heavily disorientated and if his survival instincts hadn’t seized hold of him, he’d still be putrefying in his enclosure. Confounded and dazed, he scoured the obnoxious chamber; a significant part of the hull was destroyed by... something unequivocally large. The elf wasn’t surprised if the nautiloid had been — or still was — under attack. Mind flayers had myriads of enemies — across planes, no doubt. Unfortunately, he so happened to be on board of one of their abhorrent constructions when their adversaries opted to blast it to smithereens... Just his luck.

To his displeasure, the pool situated in the centre of the room was still intact, despite the infernal brutality that had been unleashed. Cautiously, he inched closer, the wretched maggots were still floating in the translucent liquid. Habitually, Luran screwed up his nose in sheer repugnance, glaring down on the nasty vermin. For a split second, he contemplated annihilating the lot of them — the only proper retribution. However, after a moment of reconsideration, he decided it would be more judicious to place as much distance between himself and these Lovecraftian nightmares as he possibly could on an airborne ship saturating with them... He already had one tentacled tenant slurping up his brain juices, a second one would most certainly be the end of him.

Warily, the elf stepped back, letting his sapphire blue eyes glide over the other pods. The ones closest to the breach, had been utterly obliterated. The one opposite his was empty; the githyanki had escaped — well, good for her. There were several other pods, all in varying degrees of dilapidation — the involuntary denizens were all dead. Slightly desperate and effervescing with fear, Luran commenced his journey to the sphincter, hoping he wouldn’t be met with a squadron of mind flayers, waiting, on the other side. But just as he walked past his pod, he heard a noise. It was distinct, not like the crackling and raging of flames and fire, or the wind whinging as it brushed along the battered hull. This noise indicated he was not alone, someone else was with him, possibly alive. But was his unwitting companion friend... or foe?

The elf peeked into his own pod, heedful not to disturb the debris and alert the other of his presence. He had carried no weapons on him, only his violin. And to his relief, the instrument had survived the abduction as well as the assault. Quietly, he plucked it from his illithid prison and rested the instrument lightly on his collarbone, bow at the ready, preparing himself to channel his magic through it, should the need for it arise. His itinerary towards the source of the noise was deliberately chosen. Within mere seconds, Luran found himself squatting down several feet away from the other victim — thank the gods they weren’t a mind flayer! Nevertheless, he remained vigilant, for he couldn’t quite discern their features, and carefully prodded the other’s shoulder with the tip of his violin bow.

‘I don’t mean to disturb you, but... we’re in quite the predicament here...’ he whispered softly, urgently, hoping his euphonious voice could yank the stranger back to reality and ensure them that he wasn’t one of the mind flayers. ‘So, if you could, please, get up and help me find a way off of this ship, that’d be grand.’

[intsofttech]

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[unluckyhoneybee]

Quiet Room (Nolan Patrick)

Just a little story about finding your place. Fluff.

Note: this is actually super self indulged.

Warnings: reader has migraines too.

You weren't so convinced of it when you went to see that doctor. Your friend had talked about a friend of a friend who had the same disorder and had gone better since he saw this doctor. You weren't convinced it would work, many doctors has already told you there wasn't a solution. So you sat in there with your head down waiting for another deception and money spent on nothing when the door opened. A tall man with a cap walked with his hands on his pockets and sat next to you. It was annoying at first because there were many chairs around. You didn't know, but that man would change everything.

He was still there when you left the office, he looked at you and smiled a bit politely, but you barely got it, to be honest.

He was also there for the next appointment and again two weeks later, when you learned that you had started the treatment at the same time and we're following the same schedule.

"Hi" He mumbled and sat next to you.

It was a bad day for you. A really bad one. There was a big foggy cloud covering the left half of your vision, the thumping paying above your eye and the stiffness in your neck. Your friend had driven you there because you could barely stand without feeling dizzy. You answered back. He was late that day.

"YN, you can come in"

You nodded and grabbed your bag, then got up. As you did, everything about you started moving and for a moment you thought you would fall. Luckily, an arm around you stopped you and probably saved you for a bad hit.

"Wow, wow" His low voice was suddenly higher pitched, he had moved fast and his heart was beating hard on his chest. "Are you okay?"

The nurse that worked with the doctor came out and saw you, then hurried to help.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

They helped you inside and then the man reluctantly help you sit on the bed. You looked up at him and for the first time met his blue eyes.

"I'm good now, thank you" You muttered. "You can let go"

It was harsh, just soft words coming out of your lips. Nolan nodded a bit and removed his hands from you, still, he didn't left your side in fear you would fall or who knows what.

He stayed there for a couple of minutes, eyes crossed and brows furrowed, inspecting the doctor's work as they checked your pupils and tension.

"It has been like this all day, I'm good, it'll get better."

"YN..."

"I told you about this symptoms" You said lowering your head. "It's not just pain, everyone focus on the pain but it's not just pain"

Nolan's heart shattered when he heard your defeated tone, maybe not only for you but also for him.

"Nolan thank you for you help, but we need..."

"Ues, yes. Um... I'll be... Yes"

He nervously stomped put but something in him didn't let him go far. He wsd there when you came out.

"Thank you" You said when the door closed behind you.

"It's fine. I get dizzy sometimes too"

You nodded and lowered your eyes to the papers in your hands. "The treatment is not working" You said. "That's why they are so hard today. I had to drop my usual meds to try this and... It's not working. I'm actually not coming back. Today was the last appointment"

Nolan's heart clenched. He had kept an eye on you. He had memorized the shape of your nose and the curvature of your lips, he knew exactly the place where you had every little mark in your place and knew how you liked to spend the time in the waiting room. He hadn't talked to you nor because he didn't want but because he wasn't the greatest talking.

"Fuck... I'm so-"

"Don't be sorry. I don't need more people being sorry" You said. You weren't even angry, it didn't sound like that, just tired of trying and trying.

"Okay" He put his hands on his pockets and decided to go for it. "Do you want to have a coffee with me? When I'm done?"

You weren't sure why, but your heart beat picked up and your face heated up.

"I'm feeling pretty bad right now" You said.

Nolan clenched his jaw. Obviously you didn't want, you almost fainted like fifteen minutes ago.

"Plus... We shouldn't be having coffee" the corner of your mouth curled a bit in a smile and Nolan's expression relaxed.

"Are you up for a glass of water when you are feeling good?"

You nodded with a little smile. "Should I give you my number?"

"I think so"

He texted you the following day, but you were still in bed, then the day after you were busy and he wasn't feeling so well, then when you were finally free he was out with a bad episode. You both should have known it would be like that. But then a week and a half passed and Nolan and you met for a coffee and it was good, great even. He had his dog Charlie with him and lovey eyes when he saw you playing with the curly haired pet.

One coffee date was followed by an ice cream, then a dinner and a film. And soon you had found a comfortable dynamic for the both of you. There wasn't a tag or a name for what you had, but the feelings were strong.

"I have been thinking..."

You giggled and turned around. Nolan was sitting in the table while you cook dinner at yours. He was still sweaty and blushed from the run he had just taken. He was feeling good and hadn't had a bad episode in a while. So he had taken the opportunity.

"Was it hard?"

He rolled his eyes and flipped you off, which made you laugh loudly. He loved the sound of your laugh.

"We should move together"

The spatula you were using fell against the counter and the noise made you two cringe.

"What?"

"For how long have we been together?"

You blinked quickly and babbled while your mind tried to work the numbers.

"It was been a year and three months since you fainted on my arms." He tapped his finger on the table, his eyes blankly starring at the wood. "It's been then around a year and two months since I kissed you"

"Y-you count it"

Nolan quickly looked at you and then back at his hands. He was blushing furiously, it was ridiculous and embarrassing. There wasn't a way of hiding his reactions around you.

"I just..."

You slowly walked to him and cupped his face. As always, his muscle memory made him open his legs for you to stand between them and his hands found the curve of your knees. Your thumb ran over his lower lip and he opened his mouth for you. You leaned and captured his lips in a sweet and slow kiss, both mouths working together as his fingers caressed the back of your thighs.

The no tags, no names, no adjectives was an unspoken rule between you two. Feelings were there, they were obvious. You both knew you were in love, even if Nolan thought those were big words and he still had a hard time coming into terms with loving you. There was no one he respected more, he wanted to protect more, to take care of, to spend as much time... His problem was that sometimes he believed it wasn't the same for you. For some reason, that high place he had you in made him believe he wasn't good enough for you. Little did he know that your feelings were just as strong.

With a soft wet sound, you pulled back, smiling brightly and squeezing his cheeks together. "You and me? Together?"

His fingers gripped tightly your thighs, which made you laugh and kiss him again. "I'm not gonna leave" You whispered against his mouth. Those words only made him grab you tighter. He moved his face a bit and pressed his forehead against yours. It was kind of your thing.

"I spend more time with you than with anyone else"

"I'm kind of your girl, aren't I?"

"Still" He mumbled. "I wasn't sure you'd want"

You swallowed and pouted, your heart breaking a bit. Nolan had a strong facade. He was the serious stern man, only showing the funnier side to a very reduced and exclusive group of people, his people. It had been difficult to start talking about deeper things with him, he needed time to open to you, even when he was super attracted to you and probably happier than a little boy on a candy shop when you went out. You didn't want him to bottle up all the emotions that involved you, you wanted him to know he could trust you.

"Nolan..." You sat on his lap. "I'd love to move with you, honey. I'd really love to. Don't ever doubt it, okay?"

He cupped your face with one hand and smile satisfied when your unconsciously leaned into his touch. His thumb brushed your cheek and then your lips.

"You are so beautiful"

"You are sweaty and smelly"

He rolled his eyes.

"When was the last time you washed your hair"

"The greasy hair is a part of the-"

"No, go and wash it" You said pinching his cheek.

He brought you for another kiss and loved the sweet taste of your mouth. He didn't even care that after all this time you couldn't take his compliments.

"Come with me"

"Mhm" You hummed on his lips before diving for another deep kiss. Consecutive episodes had pushed sex and all fun for a few days and both bodies were craving it.

It was a moment to treasure because you were both aware it could be the last in a few days, so he took his time fucking you again the cold tiles and loving every single part of your body. Same to you, obviously, but his more dominant demeanor left you as the one receiving most of the time. Nolan loved giving you pleasure but his ego was too big to admit he had almost finished untouched a couple of times because of you.

"Don't do that, you always do that"

You bit your lip to not laugh and slapped his other ass cheek.

"It's just too cute and you are always walking around naked"

"There is no point getting covered with a towel when you had this just in your-"

"I get it, I get it"

You already had your pijamas and were drying your hair. The thought of moving with him had your heart beating fast. You couldn't believe he wanted you living with him.

"You are smiling" He said putting some sweats on.

"I'm happy you asked"

He crouched in front of you. "We don't need to do it now, we can wait a bit, take it slow..."

Cupping his face, you leaned to kiss his forehead and then hugged his neck. His hair smelled so good now.

"We'll look for the right place, okay? For you and I and all the dogs we can fit in"

You felt his laugh against your neck. "All the dogs you want"

You kissed his cheek and nuzzled your nose against his cheek, again, he pressed his forehead on yours. It was the slight push he did what you loved the most. It was his secret way of saying he loved you without actually saying it.

"Let's go and eat. I'm starving" He said after a while and got up to pull another of his hoodies from your wardrobe.

"Half of your clothes are here"

"And half of yours are at mine"

"We just need a place to keep them all, don't we? "

He nodded and guided you by the hand.

The whole getting a place together started good. Scrolling on the internet was easy, making Pinterest mood boards was fun, looking for furniture on IKEA was cool. But for weeks, plans went nowhere. Every appointment you made to go and see had been cancelled.

"Um... I've talked to Marcus, he lives down street and has a couple of houses he can-"

"I'm not feeling good today" He said.

You had gotten used to this, mood changes were also a big thing for you. It wasn't easy to keep a smile when pain was so intense. But Nolan could be extra sharp. Most of the times it was even his words, it was his tone.

"Oh, sorry. Um... I was gonna..." You cleared your throat and ran your hand over you face. "Do you need me to bring you anything?"

"I need to be alone"

You covered your mouth for a second to not sob. You weren't feeling good either, you didn't have a headache yet but you knew it was coming. You could feel it and your sight was so good.

"Okay. I'm sorry to bother, Nolan."

You didn't give him time to say anything, you just hang and he groaned. The pain was drilling on his brain right above his eyes. He had vomited too much already. He was feeling truly awful. There wasn't a single piece of food on his body and even though he knew he had to drink, he wasn't feeling good enough to go and grab water.

"Maddie"

"You sound awful"

"I feel awful"

"What's wrong?"

"YN"

"YN? Is she..."

"Upset. I know she is upset."

"What have you done?"

"Upset her"

"How? For fuck sake, Nols. She is the only one that can stand you."

Nolan rolled on the bed and curled on his side.

"I asked her to move together somewhere."

Maddie squeaked but then apologized. The damn sound had crossed her brother's brain like a lightning.

"Did she say yes?"

"She did."

"But"

"But I'm not sure it's a good idea"

He heard the loud sigh coming from the other side.

"Why?"

"Because... Every time we booked an appointment we had to cancel because either her or me were feeling bad. That's how life will be. We couldn't have our first coffee until days later because of the fucking migraine. How are we going to live a life like that?"

Maddie groaned.

"Just like you are doing now, Nolan"

"It would be easier if she was fine"

The thought had just crossed his mind and Maddie almost didn't let him finish the sentence.

"You are a fucking asshole for thinking that. You, better than everyone else, should know how she feels like. Nolan, you better fix this because this is the best thing you will ever find."

"I don't know what to do"

"Nolan, she adores you, she takes care of you like no one. You need her"

"I don't-" But who was he trying to fool? He fucking need you.

"And she needs you"

Nolan closed his eyes as if it would stop the tears from falling.

"You love to take care of her"

"Okay"

"Okay?"

"I'll fix it"

"Wait until the episode it's over"

"Yes"

"Call me if-"

"I know"

It was pretty scary to receive a call from your best friend the following day. He had started to feel better and was planning how to go to see you.

"Sam"

"Nolan, do you know something about YN?"

"Um... No"

"No?"

It was strange because you two were flesh an bone. Everyone was amazed to see how sweet Nolan could be around you, how you had gotten him to seek for your touch in public, to lean to joke and laugh closer to you... When you were together, it was as if you two were the only ones in the room.

"I have been out for a couple of days"

"Oh. I thought she would be with you"

"S-she is not" Nolan cleared his throat. "But I was gonna go to hers in a bit"

He heard your friend sighing in relief. If they only knew it was a lie...

Nolan brushed is thumb over that spot on his forehead and bit his lip. Maybe something had happened to you. Maybe you were having a bad episode and had fainted. Maybe the nausea was so bad you couldn't get up. Maybe...

"Yeah, I'm gonna get going"

"Okay. Thank you, Nolan"

"It's nothing"

He shouldn't have driven when he hadn't recovered completely, but there was a knot on his stomach and fear drove him. He knew were you hid the key and let himself in. It was tidy but dark. The silence was too dense and there wasn't signs of life on your flat. But he knew where to find you.

You whined when the door cracked opened, that awful sound felt like it could make your ears bleed. You pressed your hands harder to your temples and for a second the pain calmed, but then it came back and you sobbed.

Nolan had taken his shoes off to not be too noisy, he was trying to control his breath and not trip with the stuff on your floor. It was a mess but he couldn't ask for more.

"YN"

Your sobs ceased. Who were you expecting? You didn't even know. Probably not him. You thought he was in bed. Maybe you had unlocked another level of symptoms and you were imagining things. You thought he wanted to be alone, that you were a bother.

"YN, babe"

You felt the bed dipping next to you and his warm hand over your arm.

"Nolan" You whimpered.

"Do you need something?" He asked with a knot on his throat.

Him. You only needed him.

"I-I don't know"

"Have you had your meds?"

You wouldn't tell him that you had cried yourself to sleep and that had caused the migraine. You wouldn't tell him that you felt so awful that you couldn't even get up from bed.

"N-no"

"Why?"

He only realized how harsh it had been when you squirmed away from his touch.

"S-sorry" He mumbled. "It's too late to have them now. Do you want to try with painkillers to see if they help?"

You both knew it wouldn't help. But it was the only thing you could try.

"Okay"

Nolan brushed your hair out of your face, taking into your tired features in the dim light.

"I'll be back in a second."

Nolan tried to be quick and ignore his own pain. Maybe it was the nerves, but he was feeling how he was walking steps back.

"Hey, let's sit up"

His big and gentle hands helped you sit straight and steady. Your head was turning and you couldn't see well. You drank with his help and then sniffed and leaned into his side.

"I'm with you, I've got you" He mumbled in your hairline between soft kisses. "Food?"

You shook your head.

"Okay" He kissed your temple. "A bit more water and then you lay" He helped you with everything before letting you fall back on the pillow.

He observed you for a bit. You had curled on your side, hand pressing the back on your neck looking for some relief. Soon, he was in bed pressing a cold pad on your forehead, keeping you on his arms and doing his best to help you calm down. His warmth was your favourite thing to feel when you were feeling like this, it was grounding and his heartbeat was always a good distraction from the pain. Your hand was gripping hard on his ribs and your knee hooked around his thigh.

"How bad is it?"

"8"

He kissed your hair.

"It will pass. I'll take care of you meanwhile, I'm not leaving you alone"

There wasn't anything in the world he wanted more than to be there for you. He hated the idea of you being alone like this. When he wanted to be alone during episodes, you felt more comfortable knowing someone was there for you just in case.

"Nolan" You whispered so long after. It had gone dark and the cold pad had melted and was forgotten on the nightstand. He had given you water, drank some himself, brought little snacks for you to eat and also for him to fill his empty stomach. He stayed with you and calmed you down when the pain made you broke down crying.

"Mhm"

"How are you?"

You question surprised him. He looked down at you, he could barely see your face anymore, but he had it memorized so he could made up your features in the dark.

"I'm fine"

"No, you came here in the middle of and episode"

"I'm better" He mumbled.

"Thank you"

"For?"

"Coming here"

You felt like a liability when you hung that call, you felt too much, you felt awful, you felt like you couldn't respect his limits. Him coming for your help had been a huge thing for you.

Nolan moved a bit and trapped you on a big bear hug. Your leg was around his waist, his was up and pressed against yours, your arms were around his torso and his were around your shoulders.

"I'm here for all of it"

Nolan wasn't a big cheek-kisser, his height and personality made him more of a head/forehead kisser. But in that moment he went for a hundred kisses in your cheek, making your skin warm under his lips and the first smile in the day appear in your lips.

"I'm for the good and the bad days"

You squeezed your eyes shut. "I thought you- you didn't want me around and- we are trying to move in together and..."

"The pain makes me not want anyone around, but eventhough I know that I need you" He said. "I'm sorry I was a dick"

Your nuzzled your head on the crock of his neck and he threaded his fingers through your head.

"I'm always there for you, Nols. Don't push me away, please"

His hand traveled down your waist and gripped your hip tight.

"I won't"

You cupped his face and kissed his lips, tasting the chocolate from the cereal bar. He hummed in your mouth and pushed his body into yours. "Can I?" He asked on your lips. "Are you feeling good enough?" He asked brushing your neck with his big hand.

"Please..."

Days passed and you visited the first places, no one seemed good enough. But the feeling of walking around the empty houses hand in hand with Nolan and watching the different places was the greatest thing you've felt. He showed a hidden part of himself, he was talkative and had so many ideas, almost matching you and all of yours.

"What do you think?" He asked on your ear. His arm was around your shoulder and your back was against his chest. You were playing with his fingers and already picturing the sofa of your dreams in that corner of the living room.

Elena, the seller, had given you some time.

"I think it's good." You said.

"Only good?"

You looked up at him.

"Better than the others" You giggled.

"I think it's great."

"As great as..."

"As great as I want to live here with you"

An incredible joy was over you and you jumped to hug his neck. Laughing, Nolan hugged you tight but wasn't quick enough to gram his cap, the one you had knocked out of his head. He was laughing out of pure happiness. He had never felt better with you on his arms. He brought your head back and kissed your lips hard and deep. He would make love to you in that room empty if it wasn't for the woman waiting for you to make a decision. When you pulled back, he put you down again.

"So?"

"We keep it"

Ellen helped you with the contracts. It would start as a renting house with the option of buying it after two years. Any of you wanted to buy a house now, it was a huge step and you sill weren't sure how life together was. But having that future possibility of staying here forever, in your forever home that was also your first home together gave you a sweet ticklish feeling in your belly.

"Three bedrooms it's more than what you first asked for. I know you asked for a two rooms house" Ellen explained. The two rooms was only for visits, you wanted to have a guest room just in case anyone need to stay, but three wasn't that bad. Plus, you already had ideas floating around your mind. "But the price it's worth it"

"Yeah, we are good with it" Nolan mumbled. He already wanted the keys, pack and bring everything here. He would do it in the meantime of the night if he could.

You smiled at him and patted his tattooed thigh.

You should have known how hard moving would be. The first step had been packing everything and select what you would keep and take to your shared home. It took a couple of weeks and was so frustrating. Then, an awful week for Nolan interrupted everything. You tried to use the time he was in bed to clean around the house, but pain threatened you with the same a couple of times and you had to slow down.

"We should hire someone for painting the walls" He said one night when you were having dinner. Your apartment was full packed, the sofa was wrapped in plastic and the chairs where pulled in a corner. Your mattress was already in the guest room and your clothes in boxes. You only kept the summer ones in a suitcase in a corner of Nolan's bedroom.

"But-"

"We can't use air freshener because the smell knocks you out, YN. Paint won't be different. Plus, you look exhausted" He cupped your check lovingly. "I know a guy, he is friends with my dad."

You nodded a bit. Painting with Nolan had been in your check list for the new house, but he was right.

"And we should leave the guest room and put everything together once we are there." He added.

You pouted. "Nols..."

"Don't Nols me. If we also build the guest room now it will take us at least another week being positive."

You frowned and crossed your arms on the table, making yourself small and lowering your head. The whole process wasn't as Disney-like as you hoped it would be. You were working int he house in separate ways, almost not sharing time in there together and taking the moments you were both feeling good to buy stuff and plan things.

"Hey, don't cry. Come here, love"

He pushed his chair back and patted his thighs. You didn't need to be told twice. You moved and sat on his lap, curling yourself on it and falling on his embrace.

"It's frustrating" You sniffed.

"I know. But if we do it this way we could be living there in a couple of weeks" He explained. "And you will have your own wardrobe and not a suit case, and all your things and your blankets and we won't have to move around jumping boxes"

"You are sweet. The sweetest. I wish everyone could know that"

"I only show those I love"

You bit your lip. It was the first time he referred to loving you. He had never used the word love around you, even though you knew well he did.

"Look at me"

You did.

"Things don't go like wevd love to. I've learnt it the hard way. Maybe we can build the house as we planned it, but I'm happy to share this with how, however the migraine let us do it"

You pouted again and pressed your forehead against his. "That's the sweetest and longest thing I've ever heard you say"

"Can't you just take it and not joke about it?"

"You are just so sappy" You giggled between tears. He dramatically rolled his eyes. "If I knew you weren't always all serious and deadpan I wouldn't have gone to that date"

"Can be serious and deadpan if you ask for it"

This whole talk had made him flush, with was your favorite thing of him. You kissed his cheeks and then his lips.

"I'm sorry I got like this, it's been difficult"

He caressed your hair. "I know"

You hid on his neck and closed your eyes. "I'm happy I'm doing this with you"

A week and a half later, the house was painted and the furniture was already pilled in the living room.

"Can you believe this, Charlie?" You asked the sweet dog. "You have your own corner even before mum and dad have a bed"

Nolan looked up from the box he was unpacking. Mum and Dad. A smile crept to his lips and Maddie, who was helping you, caught him. He rolled his eyes and flipped her off, which only made her laugh.

"That reminds me, did you brought the..."

"There"

"And..."

"next to the table"

"And..."

"In the car"

"You have everything, don't you?" You asked making him blush.

"Well, I want to make it quick"

Maddie laughed and walked past her bother. Seeing him so in love was actually pretty entertaining. She stayed and helped you unpacking. It was also a big help with the guest room and you could finish only in a few days.

"Hey, it looks good" Nolan said. He had caught you staring at the walls again.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I like that one" He pointed at the picture. It was from your first camping trip together. He kissed you temple and you smile turned as beautiful as the one in the picture.

You turned and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Nolan"

"Mhm"

"Thank you for not letting me fall that day at the clinic. The treatment was bullshit but at least I met you and... I still have the stupid migraines fucking my life, but... I have you to deal with it by my side and-"

He cut you with a kiss. He couldn't remember if he was a slow kisser before or had just become one with you, but he wanted them to least the longest possible.

"I will do it again" He mumbled "All of it"

You smiled and closed your eyes. He kissed your forehead.

The house was finished only a few days later and you gave yourselves a day to warm on it before having some people over. To be honest, Nolan wanted that day to fulfill the lastest dreams he had been having. Then, the following day, you had your closest friends and family over.

"Nols"

"Here"

You carefully opened the door. He was sitting on his heels in from of the wc, the big body looked so small now.

"Love..."

"I'm fine"

You put your hands on his shoulders and leaned down to help him with his hair.

"Okay, what do you need?"

"A second"

You kissed his temple and decided that yes, those ideas you had in mind made sense. You needed Maddie's help.

"Meds?"

"Please"

You got up and took the meds from the cabinets. Then filled a cup of water and passed them to him.

"I'm good. I was just feeling really dizzy"

"Lay down for a bit" With a wet towel you cleaned the sweat on his face. "It's better"

"I can hear them from our bedroom"

You kissed the side of his head and hugged him to your side tight.

"We'll stay here then"

"The party..."

"I'm good here"

So Nolan curled against you and closed his eyes, enjoying the silence the bathroom gave.

"Five minutes"

You smiled and kissed his head. "Okay"

He was out of town for a few days, needing to fix a few things. Maddie stayed with you, mostly because he asked her to stay just in case you had an episode. It was terrifying for him ti imagine you alone in the new house with a terrible episode. He didn't know that you and his sister had a busy couple of days.

Nolan felt truly homesick for the first time in that hotel room. Now he had a place to come back with his favorite person in the world. He had his own home, but not like the one he had before. He had a home to come back with a person he really seek to go back too. Before, it was all an I'll go home and rest and tomorrow I'll visit YN. Now, it was all an I want to go back and watch films at home with YN.

When Nolan opened the door, Maddie was already gone, she had her own stuff to do so you didn't want to keep her there for longer. He heard a loud squeak and many swears that left him curiously waiting by the door.

"YN?"

"Wait!"

"Where is Charlie?"

Charlie ran in to say hi to his dad, who received him with many belly rubs.

"Where is mum, bud?"

"Right here"

He looked up and his damn cheeks turned a red shade of pink. You were only wearing one of his big old t-shirts and a big smile.

"Oh, hi" He said with a smirk.

"Don't look at me like that. There is something"

"Something"

"A surprise"

His smirk grew.

"Under that old t-shirt"

"No, perv" You cupped his face and gave him a quick kiss. "Welcome. Follow me"

Halfway through the corridor, you covered his eyes and he only laughed.

"This is when you kill me to inherit all my wealth"

"Sure thing"

You were nervous but didn't show it a single bit. "Okay Patty"

You killed his shoulder.

"I hope you like this"

You uncovered his eyes and the first thing he could focus on was a sign in the door. Nolan's quiet room. It was handmade in your favorite crafting. He frowned and looked around. It was the last room. The one you hadn't found a use for yet.

"What's this?"

You bit your lip and opened the door. He walked in slowly. A bed, thick curtains and blinds in the window, a puff, Migraines emergency kit, a mini-fridge, a thick carpet, blankets, pillows...

"YN, what is this?"

You swallowed and grabbed his hands. "This is for you, a little cave. I know you need some alone time when you are not feeling good and that the house and the street can be a little too noisy so... Maddie and I built this for you these past days. You have the carpet so I can walk in and not bother, your earplugs and pads and everything on the kit, for in there, water on the mini-fridge, there are meds I'm those drawers, clothes, blankets, the curtains so this can get 100% dark, the put this weird thing in the walls to cover the noise a bit more and-"

He cut you with a kiss. Years of injuries after injuries and no one had ever done something so big for him. Soon, your back was pressed against the wall and his lips were devouring yours.

"Mmm, Nols-" You parted with big eyes and burning face and panting out of breath.

"I love you" He simply said.

Any of you realized that it was the first time he said that. It was so obvious that he never felt the need to word it. But now it was on his chest and it had slip out. Your eyes had ears and you were smiling. His hands were cupping your face and they felt so warm. You had missed him these days. The house was empty without him.

He kissed your lips but softly this time. "Can I take you out?"

"Do you have to ask your girlfriend on a date?"

"Don't remember asking you to be my girlfriend?"

You frowned and slapped his chest. "Asshole"

"Are you my girlfriend?"

"I hope so"

He chuckled and kissed you once more. "Do you wanna go out for dinner?"

"Perfect"

Because when you were both feeling good, the only thing you wanted was to make the most of it.

You weren't expecting the gears on his mind working so quick. He caught you by surprise, big hand on your eyes and his arm around your body cautiously guiding you.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Shhh"

His heart had never beaten so erratic. He was truly nervous. He was truly worried of your reaction. But then he uncovered your eyes and you gasped. That small and soft gasped he loved on you so much, all surprise in your face and your lips discretely curling in a smile.

YN and Nolan's quiet room.

Your name was way more clumsily written but he tried his best.

"Nols..."

"Go in"

Inside, the room was the same but slightly different. Your weighted blanket, you neck pillow, your blindfold, your earplugs, your meds box and all your other items.

"Nolie..."

"I know you need comfort and being taken care of. And that I get really grumpy when I'm having migraines and maybe I can push you away. It's not because I don't want you. It's just... It takes the worst out of me. Still... This is for us. For us to hide for the world, okay? I want to take care of you and let you take care of me and it meant a lot that you built this for me. So... I made it also yours."

"I love you" You blurted out. "So much. And I can't believe how vocal you are recently. But I love it and you are the best thing that ever happened to me"

He rolled his eyes and hugged you tight. "I hope we don't have to use this as much, but... Here it is and... Just for you and me"

"You and me. I like it" You circled your arms around his neck and he lifted you from the floor.

"Only like it?"

"Love it"

[katastronoot]

When a Quiet Heart Beats

Vampire oc (Raena) x Celann (Skyrim Dawnguard)

Prologue and Chapter 1

Words: 3,525

Content warning: Blood, violence, animal death

My first ongoing fic I’m posting here on tumblr. Yippeeee also fyi I haven’t played Skyrim in so long so if I spell things wrong sorry! I had to get Raena and Celann’s story out in words I hope you guys enjoy :3

Prologue

The cave was dark. He was used to it by now. The thick musty air that invaded his lungs nearly choked him with every breath. It was a minor hazard in his career. Much easier to dismiss than the looming darkness that surrounded him–the sharp beady eyes that shone through the pitch. Predatory glares that stalked his every foot step, every movement. To be on alert was a constant. The wrong move could result in his life, his companions lives, and then many more from there on.

These abominations were all the same…monsters.

His dagger rested heavy on his hip as he made hurried light strides through the tunnels of the cavern. A torch in hand, a bow strapped to his back and a quiver full of iron arrows were all he wielded. In his mind a dagger was quicker to draw and stab when his life depended on it while he used his heavily trained marksman skills to subdue his enemies from afar.

It was just so much harder to see them when they lived in the dark. But thankfully he had a solution to that.

The charcoal gray husky padded swiftly in front of him. His movements were mechanical. The pair of them have done this walk many times before. They were quite the team when fighting monsters and daedra. He trusted Reacher’s every step while the dog led their caravan including two other vigilants behind them.

Cobwebs and exsanguinated corpses lay at their feet. Celann almost stepped on a limb when his four footed lead went to a standstill. He made a gesture with his arms for the others to come forth. Their mage engulfed all forms with an invisibility spell before they continued forward into the vampires den.

To say it happened fast would be an understatement. He was no wizard nor spellcaster. When the charges of lightning magic came he was already collided into stone rubble. Clouds of smoke and dust hindered his vision while wails and screams echoed throughout the underground hideout.

His heart fell to his stomach when he heard it.

A high pitched whimper. Cries out for help in a way where words were not needed. He always made sure his second never got hurt. He always put his life first and now…now he failed him.

Celann pushed himself up on his knees. Fighting the pain that shot through his shoulder. He looked around in the dark, a single flame illuminated a corner where the dog lay in a puddle of crimson.

Please he prayed under his breath to his gods. Please give me the strength.

The fight echoed down the tunnels. There weren’t any more enemies in his sight. He pushed off onto his feet and crouched down to where Reacher lay below. He was still breathing, the wound in his side still wept. But the stone bookshelf that crushed his legs shot a knife through Celann’s heart. He knew he wouldn’t make it. He had to put him out of his misery but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

“Plea—please…”

A chill went up the vigilants spine as he heard a small voice from the adjacent room. Upon further inspection he realized the room was more of a closet. Small with limited storage, save for the iron cage that made most of the space. He gritted his teeth fighting through the tears that stained his cheeks, while he struggled to keep composure.

“Please…don't.” The woman repeated, “don’t come near.”

Celann picked up the single iron candle holder and held the flame closer to her voice. He approached cautiously until he felt his feet still. The golden light bounced off of shining yellowish green eyes. The kinds that glowed ominously in the dark.

Emotions were a storm as he became angry, angry about what these creatures had done to him. Furious at what they are making him lose. But that anger, he knew deep within his gut, was not directed by this creature that had been trapped away in torment. She had tears in her eyes as well. Hollowed cheeks and her withered dress fell from her malnourished frame. She was starved, mouth agape in predatory lust. Hungry for blood.

“Don’t come near me, leave!” she cried, “No more! No more!”

“Why are you in there?” He asked, “Wh–”

“Don’t! Please.”

He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts while Reacher still whimpered in the corner. Her eyes followed him as she shrunk to the back of the cage. He pitied her but why? She was a monster just like the rest of them…but something deep within, maybe a tiny voice in the back of his head told him that she was innocent.

Would saving another’s life while half of his perished in a corner make it all any better? Would it ease the burn over his heart?

The woman clutched the bars. Her skin was a mossy green that contrasted against the dark gray of the cave walls. Her hair was tousled in a mess of soft brown that matched the painted freckles upon her cheeks and nose. She would have been a beautiful elf, he thought, if it weren't for how sickly her condition looked.

“What caused this?” He asked quietly while a sharp high pitched ring made him wince. His head was pounding from his collision to the wall. He clutched it with his palm. “Who are you?”

She fell silent. Shaking her head and crying. Celann looked around the room to the vampiric corpse that lay by the entryway. He hobbled slowly and reached down to check the pockets. A few gold septims along with an iron key.

“Will this release you?”

The vigilant watched as the woman's eyes darted from the corpse to the door of the cavern. She shook while remaining silent. It was apparent with her condition, if he released her she wouldn’t get very far. She needed blood to regain strength.

He sighed and closed his eyes, tired from holding back emotion. His companion was still suffering in the corner. The cries began to muffle but the suffering was still present.

“I know you are hungry,” he began. “I know you don’t want to hurt me…just please–.”

The woman watched him closely as he rested his weight up against the bars. “Please end his suffering. Make it quick. Easy.” He paused and turned from Reacher back to her form within the cage, “Find yourself to safety. Get away from here. There will be patrols…do not linger.”

She nodded her head, he went to his companion to say a final goodbye. This had to be it, he reasoned. Many moons of speaking in agreement with Isran, his found family, debating whether or not they should leave this faction that seemingly meant to do good but their tactics were well…not what he imagined before joining. He felt his dagger again on his hip. He should kill the creature in the cage. She was a monster after all…

“Rest, my friend. May the gods lead you to peace.” A kiss to his snout, and a pat on his neck to offer comfort. Why the vigilant is choosing to let his enemy take this life he did not know. It was a better option he reasoned than leaving him to die alone on the floor and suffer. Maybe he should have been the stronger man and perform the deed himself. Was that really his point of weakness?

He took the iron key and tossed it to the center of the cell.

“Please, no more suffering.”

CHAPTER 1

Some years later

“Don’t worry lad. I will make sure that Bran gets an even better looking set than before. Even if I have to spend day and night at the forge.” The large nord patted him on his shoulder, his cheeks turned pink from the ale. Celann nodded in thanks and glanced at the furry blob down by his feet under the table at the inn. He gave him a frown when he saw that the dog returned to chewing on its leather cuirass.

“Is there any other material that he won’t be able to chew through?”

Gunmar chuckled, “Aye I can make him a steel set but I’m not sure he will be able to move around as much as he likes.”

A grunt came from across the table. Durak, their orc ranger, spoke behind his mug. “That’s better. Keep him out of the troll pen. I tire of hearing them chase in the morning.”

“I forget you need your beauty sleep, Durak.” Celann smirked while the orcs tusks turned in a scowl. “But in all, we should probably wait to take Bran out again until after he is trained to not chew through everything that touches his fur.”

“I will leave you to that.” Gunmar remarked, “my skill set includes taming foul beasts and trolls—not spoiled lap dogs.”

A cold nose touched the inside of his palm that rested by his knee. A furry gray, white snout and two blue eyes looked up at him—begging for scratches. Yeah spoiled lap dog is right.

Celann grinned and ruffled through his ears. He knew he was in deep if it meant correcting any of this creature's misdoings.

But that was okay.

The three vampire hunters sat around their table at the Bee and the Barb for another hour or so, chatting and relieving the stress of another hunt. They had just cleared out a den a little north of Ivarstead the night prior and spent the day resting in their rented rooms.

Things had honestly quieted down after the Dragonborn left and Harkon the vampire lord of the Volkihar clan was defeated. They still had jobs however, the threat of vampires always loomed throughout Skyrim.

“Have you heard any from our dragon shouting friend?” He turned back to Gunmar. The man ran a few fingers through his thick beard in thought.

“I saw the lass a little while ago. She came in needing a new set of greaves. Claimed I always smithed the best.” He rolled his eyes. I think it was just because she didn’t want to travel any farther west.”

Durak grunted and picked up another tankard. Celann had to admit that he didn’t miss the Dragonborn and the commotion that followed her. Things were so much simpler, something he would enjoy. He was able to focus on other things now that he didn't have to keep a watchful eye over his shoulder for one of the Volkihar vampires. He could focus on his routine, and maybe even find some time to live–find a new hobby or read one of those novels that Sorine is always going on about. Bran licked his knee, leaving a few bite marks on his leather greaves…perhaps training the dog would come first.

“I have had enough of it!.” A stark voice broke through the ambience of the inn. An older nord clad in deer skins and worn down linen, barged in with aggravation on his face.

“If any of you are the ones leaving carcasses around my home by Talos you will have seen your last days! Mark my words!”

“Calm down now, whatever is the matter?”

The man turned to one of the argonian barkeeps, “I have run into at least ten dead deer on my land this week! All of them rotten corpses, strung out. I won’t be ridiculed like this!”

Gunmar gave the two of them a sideways glance as they listened to more shouting and argument. A few of the patrons in the inn went on to say the old man was mad–perhaps imagining things.

“I could take care of these mongrels for a fair price if you're interested” The sellsword clad in golden mage robes chimed in from a corner. “Sounds like an easy task for a master of the arcane arts.”

“I wouldnt give you a septim to clean my chamber pot, Marcurio! It was likely one of your wizard friends that caused this! The shape of the creatures–all hollowed out like they got the life sucked out of em”

Duraks deep voice interrupted, “Did you see any blood?”

He looked at the orc in confusion.

“Any wounds or gashes? Were the corpses hard like stone?”

“Aye, they were. You know what did this?”

The orc turned to his brethren and then his gaze landed on Celann. “It’s your turn to take odd jobs.”

He sighed, so much for finding free time this night.

“I will take Bran back to his pen.”

He nodded to Gunmar before walking over to speak more to the disgruntled patron.

This might be a long night, he only prayed it wouldn’t be.

+++

A beam of moonlight shrouded the forest in an ethereal glow. The orange leaves falling around the birch trees of the Rift danced, while the wolf packs to the north sang their freighting tune. This reminded her that she was grateful. Grateful to have come all the way to Skyrim. She smiled and stopped in her bare footsteps.

She may have just found a place to be happy.

Her undead companion leaped in front, sending her into a fit of chuckles.

“Easy now, we mustn't cause too much commotion. You will scare away every living creature for a hundred miles.”

Its shining blue eyes met her yellow ones for just a second before bounding ahead in an inhuman stride. She shook her head, if he gets lost she could always just summon him once more. They were bonded after all.

It had been years since she found herself journeying alone, well if one didn't take her companion into account. She has traveled all over these lands, albeit settling in Cyrodiil for the most part. Skyrim though, it was something else.

The people were kind. Well, except for the thalmor that had made their own little place here. The nords were good. They cared for their own and worshiped a god that she believed was worth worshiping. Someone who gave them all hope and courage. She could respect it.

The game is plenty. The woodlands are thriving with wildlife. She has been able to be kept fed enough that she can enjoy some of the daylight and that was a feat in itself. To be healthy–her body and mind.

But in all of this state of living she found that there was something missing. Something she hadn’t had in a lifetime.

Family.

Of course, she created her own but it wasn’t the same. Coming from a large family–from what she could remember–it saddened her. She did not remember much of her childhood in Valenwood. She remembered her kind mother and her strong father. Her mischievous little sisters…She could never have that again. But, she has spent many moons accepting that. It was just that–the way of life for a creature such as her.

Loneliness.

The vampire strolled to her favorite piece of this land. A little cliffside that looked over the border of Skyrim and Cyrodiil. She could see the Jerrall mountains stretch far and even sometimes feel the breeze of the cool mountain air.

A rustling far from her in the bushes to the east caught her attention. She quickly turned around, using her vampiric keen eyesight to determine what it was. It sounded like footsteps. Human footsteps.

She knew that there were vampire hunters to the east of this area. That was her cue to stow away for the night. She was not intending to become someone else's prized hunt.

Raena departed swiftly and quietly on two feet, only to find herself coming to a standstill once again.

+++

He found three already. Animal corpses drained of blood. It was disgusting he thought as he looked at the flesh in a scowl. A life put to such waste. Another animal for game that should have been hunted to feed a family and instead—it fed an abomination.

Celann sighed as he wiped the sweat from his brow. His mead induced buzz finally breaking into a moment of sobriety. He hadn’t seen any other signs of the monster in this area. Perhaps they moved on.

The hunter strolled further, taking a few moments to catch a breath and take in the beautiful sights of this side of the Rift. He loved the beautiful orange and yellow shades of the trees but nothing still didn’t compare to the sights beyond dayspring canyon, where Fort Dawnguard lies. This thought only had him wishing to go home and rest for the night.

He smirked thinking about it. His first time he ever went hunting he was very young. Maybe about eight or ten years old and he paraded after his grandfather in the woods west of Evermore in High Rock. Even then he wasn’t very good with the arcane arts. He remembers that his grandfather had to teach him the old way of tracking. The way that didn’t use spells or magic.

If it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t be so good at what he does now.

Several rustling of leaves and interruptions in the undergrowth. The patterns didn’t seem to be humanoid. More like animalistic.

In this case hunting monsters one couldn’t really ever be sure.

He followed the tracks with a watchful eye on his surroundings. Staying on high alert he withdrew his bow, an iron arrow in hand.

A blur of gray rushed past him in surprise.

He almost scolded Bran for being an erratic haywired pup but he remembered that the dog left with the others to head back to the fort. A couple barks and panting brought him back to the creature at hand. His hands. Licking them.

Celann looked down and he could swear that he was looking into a moment far into the past.

Thick long dark gray fur and a black nose with little tan speckling on the end. It reminded him of a close friend he had, the only difference was this dog had glowing blue eyes instead of the jade green of one he knew before.

He went to put his bow away only to find the dog chewing on the end of his arrow. It had mirth and happiness in its eyes. He chuckled, what an odd thing that he didn’t expect to see.

He pet it behind his ears, its tongue stuck out while it panted happily. A few barks and yaps, it jumped up attempting to lick at the hunters face.

“Alright, alright. Easy there, easy.”

The dogs tail waggled back and forth. He crouched down and scratched its neck. The resemblance was…something else.

Celann continued to stalk through the woods, checking for signs of vampiric activity. The gray dog followed in his footsteps, bouncing around trying to catch a falling leaf or chase a lone scampering rodent.

He was sure that he wouldn’t get anywhere on this job with the newfound distraction but…he welcomed it.

“You haven’t seen any vampires around here, have you boy? No undead walking around?”

The dog tilted its to the side and barked once. Celann chuckled, “I would have figured. You know I used to have a dog a lot like you….I miss him very much…if you need a home you are welcome to come with me. We have two other huskies at the fort. They would love a new friend.”

The dog ran in front panting and sniffing the ground. Celann was about to reach in his pack to hand him a scrap of dried meat until he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Someone was behind a thicket of trees, something with glowing yellow eyes.

“Wait!” The hunter scolded quietly as he watched the dog bounce away from him towards the creature. He heard a hushed feminine voice before the dog disappeared behind the trees.

Celann withdrew his bow once more, stalking quietly, closer to where he saw his new friend depart.

Then he felt his feet still.

Her skin was a soft shade of moss and her eyes glowed a yellowish green. A sight he remembered once long before. The only vampire whose life he spared.

But, that couldn’t be. He thought as his mind directed back to the gray dog bouncing around in the woods with him that night. It couldn’t be. He was dead…or maybe he wasn’t after all this time.

Her form was still hiding, she was obscured in the darkness under the growth of the leaves but their eyes were locked together. No one made any movement.

“Who’s there?” He called out like a fool. A fool whose mind was nearly being lost. He cringed inwardly at himself but the woman didn’t say a word. She only watched.

“Please tell me I’m not crazy.” He said softly, “I know you don’t I?”

He saw the bushes move. Her eyes went dark and all he saw was greenery of the woods. He approached cautiously and went to push apart the branches only to come face to face with an empty clearing—and a single charm on a stone that lay by his feet.

An old rusted collar tag that read the name.

REACHER.

[contentpaparazzi]

“kiss me (kill me)”, or “titania and oberon finally discover the OLD_DATA and end up widowed” (cw for body horror under the cut)

in an effort to gather info on improving their deckbuilding abilities and possibly deposing the scrybes entirely, oberon and titania seek out a potentially new source of power. the OLD_DATA possessing infinite knowledge is merely a rumor, something the scrybes are said to keep under oath or between the four of them, but prying knowledge from their subordinates had found them a lead.

titania had been the one to pay the price before she was promptly shot and killed by a well-dressed Man In Blue, never to be seen again. it was just standard procedure.

the two of them began their descent into subterranean territory, in an undisclosed location. oberon always carried the sigil of pentacles with him, so paying a small price was of no concern. titania, on the other hand, always kept her belt fastened to her hips, stocked infinitely with a variety of tools and solutions for any situation. she struck a match and lit a small candle, providing a flickering source of light in the humid darkness.

the two of them descended furthermore, the tension prickling in waves across their backs, but still determined to see this katabatic journey through to the end.

suddenly, and with no previous sign of diminishing beforehand, the flame from titania’s candle fizzled out, grey smoke wisping away into the blackness that encompassed them. only an overwhelming, damp, and alienating eigengrau.

then, oberon felt a small tingle. warm, with energy, but at the same time as cold and unfeeling as the rest of the environment. his ears perked, looking in the direction of where titania might be, judging by the way she shivered against him, her other hand gripping his arm tightly.

“did you feel that?” he asked her, and received a tense “oberon… i think it’s here,” in response.

a crackling, again. maybe not a crackling exactly, but whatever words either of them had to describe the sight before them would not have been enough.

(in front of them would be) in front of them is a blooming cacophony of sound and color (in front of them was), a corrupted fragment of void and lack thereof.

they were told not to handle it barehanded, if one should find a small piece of it, as if it were made of pure azoth, or the fragments of a fallen star.

however, out of sheer anticipation to inspect the fragment closer, they both rushed to seize it, overcome with an exhilarating feeling of power.

titania had been the one to seize it, what with her larger stature and longer arms. of course she had been. she had been the one who had worked the most to seek it out.

oberon rushed to her, never parting from his wife for even a second as he caught a glimpse of the crackling and ever-shifting mass in her hands.

“this is the purest form of energy i have ever laid my eyes upon” were her last coherent words before the crackling spread, erupting in a loud cacophony of static, raw energy, and ones-and-zeros, oberon nearly blinding himself by being in such close proximity to it. he could only imagine for a passing second what titania might have felt.

the cacophony grew louder and louder, oberon shrieking in pain as his ears rang, and every touch felt like pressing himself against the core of a burning star. despite the pain, he opened his eyes, flinching a few times before prying them open.

at the center of the cacophony was titania, writhing on the ground as scattered fragments of energy from the corners of the room spread out into lines across the ground like circuits, ones and zeros beginning to fade in and out periodically in the corner of oberon’s vision. her body was in agonizing pain, only able to let out desperate cut off screams before wretching forward and coughing up rendered blood and spaghetti code.

oberon weakly crawled his way forward in a desperate attempt to reach his beloved wife.

but before he could do so, titania’s upper torso burst from itself.

she stopped moving for roughly 5 seconds, oberon in disbelief, before she writhed again, her size growing exponentially in what had first seemed like a small room. her clothing, including her precious alchemist’s belt, had been torn to shreds and spread across the room in meager scraps along with what used to be cards and broken glass. at the center of it all was titania herself, a writhing abomination with more limbs than before and translucent wings breaking through the surface of her backs.

oberon stifled the urge to start screaming, cupping his mouth tightly over his nose and mouth as tears flowed.

titania (or what appeared in her place)’s large, vacant eyes stared into the darkness for a moment as she stumbled forward, trying to stay upright, before they met oberon’s, her darling husband’s little, loving green eyes.

“kiss me, oberon…” the creature lilted in her voice.

“k i s s m e . . .”

[cnc-wendy]

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[sebastianswallows]

Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 5 — Old books and brandy

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: angst, smut, male masturbation

— WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

— TAGLIST: @bloofinntoona @sarcasticpluviophile @estrotica

Sebastian spent the whole night after meeting her awake, thinking about her, keeping the cursed necklace she had given him to destroy on his bedside table. It was only the third time they met, but for some reason, there had been a different quality to it. Perhaps because it had not been planned — he hadn't expected her to write to him... Or perhaps it was because he had been in her home, seen the inside her of it, felt her touch on every item, every little book, every old picture...

And then, there was the matter of her family. Who was trying to curse her? And what had happened to her brother? Was he really missing in the Aeolian Islands, or was there something else at play?

Sebastian took his layers of stiff clothes off thoughtfully, his thoughts always circling the same — her, her company, her words, her scent, the taste of the skin of her little hand, her warmth, her home, her pleading looks and prying questions — and once he had taken everything off and his skin chilled in the coolth of his room, he walked over to the liquor shelf and poured himself a generous glass of brandy.

He lay in bed, waiting to feel tired. It never came.

Eventually, he sat up and stretched his back as he walked around the room. He stared at the necklace on the bedside table as if it were the solution to it all... Well, if he couldn't sleep, maybe he could at least get through some of the research he had in mind. He only needed to inspect it more thoroughly to get a hint as to who had cast the curse on it. And, to keep his word, he could destroy it afterwards. He’d thought of all manner of spells to try on it while they had drinks at her house, and had worked himself into somewhat of an enthusiasm to apply them.

“What she doesn’t know won’t make her mad at me,” he muttered, sitting at his desk in the nude.

For the next few hours, he piled books upon books beside him, reading up on decryption spells and incantations, the alcohol blurring his vision ever so slightly every time he took a sip.

She had asked that he destroy the necklace, seeming uninterested in finding out who in her family wanted to curse her — or her brother. Sebastian thought it was a bad idea… If he could get to the bottom of the curse, wouldn’t that be better? Would it be more helpful? Wouldn’t that be of more service to her?

Why would she deny it, anyway? Probably to spare her family… She seemed terribly protective of them — which he both did and didn’t understand.

Well, whatever it was she felt for them, he was spared of such limitations.

He turned the necklace in the air with a light levitation spell, examining it closely. Several detection spells bounced off it, but there were a few that stuck.

He had a lot of respect for what it took to make an item like this… Whoever was trying to curse her was clearly a witch or wizard of skill. It had been cursed calmly, without malice, almost with a sweetness to it — and yet the curse would be lethal, he was sure of it. Sebastian pulled out a thick tome on the nature of curses and a notebook, flipping the pages of the heavy book and searching for any mention of something that matched the item before him. He hadn’t studied anything like this since his days at Hogwarts… Most curses he’d dealt with in his work since then were strong, showy, even explosive. There was an ego behind them that was lacking here.

After half an hour, he found a description that closely matched the kind of magic employed on this piece.

“A variant of the Curse of the Lost Soul. Interesting,” he mumbled to himself as he took a few notes. He took a deep pull of brandy and rolled it on his tongue as he thought about it. “Not as original as I first thought, but the power of these things is often underrated.”

Having identified it, he now knew that it was safe to touch, just not to wear around one’s neck. Taking it slowly, he traced a finger over the incantation markings and tried to get a feeling for the amount of magic put into the curse.

There was something cold and cloying about it, he’d felt as much when examining it at her home… Like hands reaching out from a grave, ivy crawling up stone, or a greedy siren in the Great Lake at Hogwarts. It would grab hold of whoever wore it and sap them of all warmth and motion, leaving behind the coldest, dries corpse. It was slow but penetrating. If not for the chill emitted from the gemstones, one might think nothing of it. He found himself greatly relieved — and impressed — that she detected it in time.

Sebastian scratched the back of his neck as he focused his bleary eyes on it, the muscles in his back unwinding. There was no prying the curse off or disenchanting it — at least, not if he was being realistic. A spell that took so long to act took even longer to undo, and he didn’t have weeks to spare for it. There was nothing left to do but to destroy it, as she had asked him to. And yet…

He looked at it. It was a pretty piece, if a little plain. And it was something from her, an heirloom of her family even… Those things had a certain significance beneath and beyond the magical.

Yes, he could keep it a while longer, and reveal all of its secrets in time. Maybe he could discover who in her family hated her so. She was certain to think more highly of him then — not just as a smuggler or dark wizard, but a true friend, a loyal companion, and more…

More... The word ricocheted between his ears and sent a shiver down his spine.

His legs tensed beneath the table and he spread his legs a little wider, settling himself more comfortably on the chair. He thought long and hard, sitting there at the desk with an empty bottle and a still-full glass. He needed to make a profile of whoever crafted that curse, and then match it up against the most likely suspects from her family. It had to be somebody skilled, and comfortable with curses, familiar with old ones too, but likely not in the business of using them often. Someone with more delicacy and patience than the sort of people he’d meet around Borgin and Burkes. It was likely to be hard to learn their identity without giving up his own, if he decided to go asking around…

He rubbed his eyes, feeling them burning from the late night light and alcohol, then looked at it again laying supine and curled up on his desk. This necklace was something of hers, a link she had to her family history... How could he possibly throw it away?

“Oh, bollocks,” said Sebastian, standing up and starting towards his trunk. He grabbed the necklace, placed it back into its box, then tucked it in a corner of his trunk between other cursed and precious things. Standing up, he closed the trunk again and locked it firmly. “I'll deal with you later,” he muttered.

He went to sleep thinking about her.

He woke up thinking about her.

He’d thought there was a certain loveliness about her ever since they met, but after last night, there was a petulant, greedy, needy feeling clawing its way out of his chest, and every moment was spent missing her, wondering what she was doing, wondering what she would think of his little flat or his bed or the street he lived on…

He imagined himself making her laugh, mimicking and making fun of his neighbour who practised the flute every afternoon — he’d been doing it ever since Sebastian moved in two years ago and had only gotten worse. Or pointing out to her when the cat from the little old witch in the building opposite, Mrs Cloke, took a tour of the rooftops. He was a chubby tomcat in black and white named Sweetie, and he loved to stalk the birds. Sebastian enjoyed watching Sweetie play with his victims, or when he clutched them in his mouth to bring as a present to his mistress.

Perhaps they would just lie in bed, slipping in and out of sleep, his fingers curling in her hair, her legs wrapped around him… Would she stay with him after she woke, or hurry to get up? He’d make her stay anyway, and keep her amused, keep her in a state of constant pleasure if she’d let him, kissed and caressed and pampered and worshipped… A rage of thoughts battered his conscience, but he could think of nothing better than to start the day by loving her.

Why couldn’t she just be there?

Why had he left the night before without saying anything? He’d demanded to see her again, the only form of compensation he wanted, but now that she asked for the necklace to be destroyed she had no reason to. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again but, well, he knew where she lived, so he could always — no.

Sebastian turned in bed and looked out the window. Cloudy, foggy, rainy day, unworthy of spring. It was a Friday, and quite late in the afternoon judging by his pocket watch braced on his bed table — not an unusual time for him to wake up, as he was usually home late on most days. On Friday evenings in particular he had a business meeting with two enterprising gentlemen in Knockturn Alley. Sighing, he turned around the hugged his pillow. His sheets felt warm, too warm, and damp with sweat as if he had been feverish during the night. A rush of hot and cold trickled like waves beneath his skin to pool at his loins. He grunted in frustration at what could have been a pleasant feeling, turned bitter by his loneliness.

Sebastian slid a hand beneath his stomach, down to his hips, down to his thighs, and gripped the throbbing length. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sensation, his manhood far too sensitive and sore, as if it had been working hard all night long — if only. Gingerly, he felt around the head and was embarrassed to find it damp, a trickle of wet seeping all over and making his thighs stick. Sebastian buried his face into the pillow, then trailed the tip of his fingers along the underside. He moaned. Another rush of slick got pumped out of him just by the slow, hungry throb... His skin felt pliable and warm there, soft as velvet and as hot as fiendfyre, as he began to move his hand up and down.

As he teased himself, he slid his arm beneath the pillow and brought it to his face, burying his mouth in it to muffle the moans that came. He thrust up into his tight fist and squeezed tighter, punishing himself.

He was unworthy of her, completely unworthy of her. He was a murderer and a thief, his spirit soiled beyond cleansing, while she was sweet and gentle and good and deserved better, and he wanted to kill every last man that was more worthy of her than he was…

Feeling the strain of the position, Sebastian pulled his arm from underneath him and wrapped it too around the pillow, hugging it against his face with both arms, sinking his lonely, needy moans in its softness while he spread his legs and rubbed his swollen manhood on the sheets, back arching to better press his stomach against it. His heavy panting and the plaintive whines came out of him all muffled, and he wished he could hold her to him like that, and bury his pleas into her hair, and his lips into her neck, and not let her see him crying. He thrust faster into the empty sheets, pressing harder, making his tip ache and burn. None of it was enough.

“Oh, please,” he whimpered into the pillow, squeezing it tighter, “please please please…”

He didn’t even know what he was asking for, just that he felt out of breath and dizzy and he needed something, anything to happen, to end it.

His traitorous length was weeping steadily, wetting his stomach until the rubbing turned into a slide, and his sheets stuck to his skin after he pressed down into them.

“Please,” he whimpered hoarsely, begging, “please take it…”

His thighs were tense and burning, sweat pooled at his lower back, and he felt no closer to being satisfied than when he started. Weakly, he lifted his face from the pillow and gripped the headboard behind it, then pulled himself up to a slightly drier spot on the bed.

“Oh that’s it,” he moaned, looking down at his body, past the lost little freckles and the smattering of chest hair sticking to his skin. He could just barely see a hint of the dark red tip peeking from beneath his stomach, squeezed down, rubbed within its soft skin.

His face felt hot and damp, his arms flexed painfully at the angle he was working with, and he felt like he was drowning... Still hanging on to the headboard, he tilted his head back and let his lips part, sucking in greedy breaths as he worked himself toward his pleasure, canting his hips at sharper, deeper angles, letting himself press down more heavily over his manhood, teasing himself, making sure the head slipped completely out of its protective skin before it was covered again, then pressed out fully, rubbed raw and exposed, and back once more into softness.

He felt the lick of flames beneath the skin of his inner thighs, felt the little coil of something sweet and wet between his legs, and then his whole body was shaken by a rush of cold and then of warmth again and he had to bite into the muscle of his upper arm to keep himself from screaming and his thrusts stuttered and his stomach tensed and a dribble of something thick started seeping from his tip — and then the air of the room was stirred by the thunder of a knock on his door.

Sebastian caught his breath and stilled, listening carefully. Whoever was there knocked again louder, with a fist.

Gingerly, so as to not make a sound, Sebastian got up off the bed and wordlessly summoned a bathrobe with one hand while with the other he picked up his wand from the bedside table. His heart was still thumping in his chest, but it calmed as his skin caught the cool air of the room. The robe wasn’t much, but it conveniently concealed his hardened length. He was far from decent, but whoever it was that would pound on his door unannounced was hardly worth more.

He walked carefully to the front door and listened. A simple revealment spell told him there were two people on the other side — men, rather broad, stiff looking…

“Who is it?” he asked breathlessly, wand at the ready.

“Auror office,” said a gruff voice. “Open up.”

Sebastian bit his lip and cursed. He didn’t want to let them in, but running away now would only establish his guilt… And if they came all the way here rather than ambush him somewhere, they must have still had their doubts.

He removed the wards on his room and unlocked the door. Two moustached wizards with unshaven cheeks were on the other side, one brown and the other black-haired, around 40 and 50 years old respectively. They regarded him coolly, staring him up and down. Sebastian felt the last shiver of his unfulfilled pleasure abandon him, lost as the sweat chilled off his body, as his heart pumped steadily, and his muscles relaxed, ready for anything.

“Sebastian Sallow?” spoke the taller of the two.

“Who’s asking?” he said, then cleared his throat, his voice still rather rough and sounding a little choked.

“We’re from the Auror office —”

“Yes, I gathered as much. What is this about?”

They stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation.

After giving him another cursory glance, they began to look around his flat while they continued speaking. Their eyes went to his desk first, filled with a bigger pile of books and papers than they were perhaps used to seeing, a scattering of ruffled quills, and so many and varied ink wells that it looked like a laboratory.

Sebastian was, at least, grateful that their eyes weren’t on him anymore. He closed the door and watched them, his right hand stuffed in his robe pocket clutching his wand, while he shifted from one leg to the other, trying to look normal.

“What business are you in?” asked the black-haired one with the brown eyes.

“Curse-breaker for hire. And what are your names?”

“You’re employed by… whom?”

“Whomever’s paying,” he replied with a smirk.

“Pays well?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, half-lying. “But it’s one of the few things I’m good at.”

“Good at it, are you?” asked the Auror, levelling a hard gaze at him.

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat but shrugged and smiled charmingly. He still felt lightheaded enough to be a little dotty.

“A lot of people are good at a lot of things,” said the Auror, “but few are skilled enough in breaking curses.”

“Just haven’t tried my hand at much, then, I suppose.”

“And who pays for that sort of thing?” he asked, poking his wand through Sebastian’s pile of clothes.

“For what?”

“Curse-breaking.”

“I have a hard time remembering their names,” said Sebastian, scratching the sweaty back of his head. “Most sound awfully French or something.”

Their booted steps were heavy in his flat, dirtying up the carpet, kicking it aside at the corners to look for any hidden nooks, then bending down to leaf through his notebooks. They’d find nothing there but his research into salvaging the lady’s necklace, perfectly innocuous. Their eyes passed over his unmade bed and quickly move past it. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The brown-haired Auror with the blue eyes stared him up and down after a while.

“A bit late to still be in your bathrobe,” he said.

“You caught me just after my ablutions,” smirked Sebastian, threading his fingers through his hair that, at the temples, was so sweaty it looked wet.

The Auror stared him in the eye with his milky gaze, and Sebastian stared back — a poor attempt at Legilimensy, easily deflected.

“Do you happen to know a shop called Borgin and Burkes?” he then asked.

“Who doesn’t?” chuckled Sebastian.

“Decent wizards don’t.”

“Well, you did catch me in a moment of indecency.”

Neither of them appreciated the joke, but Sebastian couldn’t help but grin about it.

“They’re involved in suspicious activity,” said the taller Auror.

“You don’t say.”

“I would recommend you keep your distance, Mr Sallow.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Say,” started the shorter Auror, “you don’t happen to be related to a wizard called Solomon, do you?”

“Yes,” said Sebastian stiffly. “Why? Knew him?”

“In his later years, yes,” he said, looking at Sebastian from the corner of his eye. “Was dishonourably dismissed, from what I recall.”

“Was he now?”

“Used the wrong spell at the wrong time,” said the other, frowning at his colleague. “Nothing more to say about it.”

Their hands were on their wands, but they didn’t cast any spells around his belongings while Sebastian was watching, although they clearly meant to. Their eyes at some point fell to his large trunk, a treasure trove of proscribed artefacts. Sebastian put on a disinterested look, leaning against the door and picking at a piece of lint beneath his fingernail while they picked his life apart. The two Aurors exchanged a silent look, but shifted their attention away from it — as they were meant to. Sebastian had never had cause to test the Distraction charm he’d cast on his trunk, a spell that made it thoroughly uninteresting to casual observers, but he was enormously pleased to see it worked.

“We’re looking into the legitimacy of some of their wares. There might —”

“Whose was that, again?”

“Burke’s.”

“Ah.”

“There might be a reward for any relevant information. We have ways of repaying anonymous sources too,” said the taller Auror. “If you hear anything…”

He extracted a calling card and left it on Sebastian’s desk.

Alistair Gray

• Senior Auror •

Level 2 • Ministry of Magic • Office 208

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Sebastian, opening the door and leaning against it, wordlessly inviting them to leave.

With another brief look around, the two wizards tilted their bowler hats and left.

Sebastian shut the door right after away and sighed, placing his wards again, and stronger ones this time too. He knew he’d caught the attention of the Auror office for a couple of years, but he’d never actually spoken to any before. His fears had nearly abated, until now… Very untimely too, since he was supposed to meet Caractacus Burke that evening to speak about a shipment coming in through Dover.

He went anyway to meet the man, although he arrived two hours in advance and kept his distance, watching from a building across the street for any unfamiliar faces. The evening was damp and a little rainy, and Knockturn Alley was hardly the best-lit stretch of street, but he didn’t notice anyone or anything out of the ordinary, thank Salazar…

Sebastian didn’t like Aurors. Didn’t like seeing them, didn’t like speaking to them, didn’t like being spoken to by them. His Uncle Solomon had something to contribute to those sentiments, but his business ventures contributed much more. He knew Mr Burke felt very much the same, which was why he expected him to be understanding.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“I don’t want to see them outside my door again,” said Sebastian firmly. “They know we’re working together. They must be watching your shop. Today was a threat.”

“A threat of what?” the old man sniffed.

The low candlelight in the backroom of his store shined off his balding head like a crystal globe. He always met Sebastian in the back, or far away from his store entirely if they were discussing something hazardous to either of their liberties. Caractacus Burke was a sleek and slimy peddler of the untoward, the dangerous, the forbidden… It had seemed earlier on in Sebastian’s career that he could put up with his more scrofulous traits in exchange for a promising window into the area of dark magic. But as their collaboration stretched on for years, mostly at Sebastian’s expense and rarely to his profit, he grew more and more impatient with the wizard.

“I don’t intend to find out,” hissed Sebastian. “I’m not saying I won’t work for you at all, just… not for a while.”

He didn’t exactly trust that Burke wouldn’t use this as an excuse to drop him altogether for someone younger and more naive, but Sebastian knew when he was needed. There weren’t many wizards willing to undertake this sort of work, and there were even fewer with his skills. Burke himself, in spite of the wealth of artefacts he’d amassed, was only skilled in bartering, and lying, and swindling, skills that even a filthy muggle could possess. He’d know nothing of the value of the artefacts that came his way if not for Sebastian to reveal them, and he certainly didn’t have the patience nor the brains for the research it required.

“How long, then?” asked Burke.

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”

“There might not be any work left for you when you return,” he spat.

“Oh yes,” grinned Sebastian, stepping back toward the creaking staircase, “there will be.”

There was always work in bringing items safely to London, and for the finer things, Sebastian was sometimes even sent to see them brought to Callais from wherever they originated. He’d seen much of the continent like that, more than any of his Hogwarts peers did, even the wealthy ones. But it appeared those lovely days of travelling in secret through the cold night air or through dark waters were over, for now…

Sebastian looked left and right before going out of the shop, and cast another Revelio for good measure, but there was nobody suspicious tracing him — or so he thought.

Which was why he was very disappointed to have been wrong when he arrived back at his flat only to find the same pair of Aurors knocking on his door. Sebastian turned around in a heartbeat and walked the other way, down the stairs, down into the basement of the building, where he’d hidden his trunk of special items under a concealment charm as a jar of pickles. He walked outside, to the incinerator, and used the chimney in the back to Floo over to Ominis’ mansion.