#Wrapping Paper Tube Sword

[kultofathena]

[bailesona]

“  and  you  must  be  ophelia,  am  i  right?  i’m  ramsay  gordon,  it’s  a  pleasure  to  meet  you.  “          from  within  the  cozy  confines  of  the  apartment,  he  steps  back  to  allow  her  entrance  from  the  freezing  streets  of  manhattan.  recent  changes,  changes  that  he  feels  certain  ophelia  and  aisling  played  direct  hands  in  contributing  to,  have  brought  a  fresh  clarity  to  the  weather.  the  cool  october  air  became  crisp  with  frost  and  plunging  temperatures.  the  summer  was  sweltering,  but  less  muggy  than  it  had  been  years  before;  half  the  population  meant  half  the  cars,  half  the  pollution,  half  the  everything.  his  group  therapy  circle  insisted  on  the  silver  lining.  the  only  thing  he  learned  before  he  finally  stood  and  escaped  after  four  minutes,  seventeen  seconds  of  torture.

“  may  i  take  your  coat?  aisling’s  running  a  little  late,  but  everyone  else  is  inside.  henri  is  making  gravy  and  cranberry  sauce,  so  we’re  all  hiding  out  in  the  living  room,  and  stanley  and  richard  went  to  the  rooftop  with  victor  to  look  at  his  greenhouse.  why  don’t  i  get  you  a  drink,  and  you  can  decide  to  join  whoever  you  want  to  talk  with  for  a  while?  “

@theresastargirl​ liked THIS POST for a family holiday dinner thread! ( and we’re starting with ramsay gordon, the new loml, but u can literally pick whoever u want ophelia to talk with!! )

[reverieblondie]

Nobel Blood

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Penetrate sex, Tail rubbing?, Desk sex, Cream pie.

Summary: High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...

A/N: This might be completely self indulgent...but I liked it...

Word Count: 7,370 (I got carried away...)

“What about this one? What do you think?” 

Rolan appears from behind his changing screen in a new blue jacket with silver embroidery and buttons. The collar and cuffs are lined with silver. His pants are black and a bit tighter to his body than he is accustomed to. The boots he’s wearing are shining and new. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror in his room, he turns around, holding out his arms. 

“Be honest… Thoughts?”

A very bored-looking Cal is lying on Rolan's bed. He turns his head, looks at his brother, and gives him a once-over. 

“Like I told you about the four other outfits… You look fine. Please just pick one!” 

Rolan scoffs, “Cal, this is important. I have to look my best to make a good first impression. There will be a lot of important people there today. This could lead to some great opportunities.” 

Cal looks at Rolan, a bit worried, “Rolan, you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Just go and relax, maybe meet someone, make friends. You know, have fun!” 

Rolan rolls his eyes as he does his hair in his usual tight, twisted bun, “I’m not going to waste the opportunity to have fun!” 

Once he had finished with his hair, he adjusted his collar before turning to have Cal assess him once more. When he turned, he saw the prominent frown on Cal's face. He sighs, “Cal, you know how people look at us. This is a chance to change people's perceptions.” 

“The right people, you don't have to change their perceptions…” 

The room is quiet, and a silent understanding fills the space. The silence is cut by Lia busting through the doors of the master bedroom. Looking at them like they have lost their minds. 

“What are you two doing? Rolan, stop fussing and get going! You get invited to a ball and waste your time primping!” 

Rolan sighs as Lia dusts off his shoulders and places his invite in his jacket pocket. Pausing, she looks at his hair and starts to pull and loosen his usual style, making it softer looking with some strains to frame his face and the tips of his ears poking out a bit more, 

“What the hells Lia! My hair was fine!” 

“No, you always wear it so tight you want it looser, rugged.” 

“I’m going for cool and collect.” 

“Yeah, but ladies like a bit of ruggedness.” 

Rolan swats away her hands and starts to leave, 

“I'm not going there to get a date!”

Lia huffs at his leaving figure, “Hopeless…” 

Cal looks over at Lia, “Any chance he’s going to loosen up and have a good time tonight.”  

Lia takes a moment to ponder the question, “If the right person talks to him.”

-KAW!-

The sudden noise tries to break you from your slumber, but only briefly before you lol back to your dreams…magic hands…a soft warmth…a husky whisper…

-KAW KAW!-

The dream is ripped from you as your eyes are popped open; on pure instinct, you reach for your knife under your pillow, but as you look towards the noise, you pause. 

The Falcon blinks and tilts its head at you, curiously fidgeting and hopping closer to you. You pull your hand away from the blade and sigh at the familiar bird, “Hello, Rune. Do you have something for me?” 

Rune turns, revealing a message carrier just like you expected, “Clever bird,” 

Reaching over you, you scratch her neck while you retrieve the message from the red tube. The tube has an emblem very familiar to you: a golden long sword with vines and two golden roses by the sword's hilt. The paper is thick and white, wrapped with a red ribbon. Unwrapping it, you see the fancy script, and it clicks to you what is happening. 

“An invitation for the Raven Ball…and I'm guessing they are hoping for me to attend?” 

Rune kaws in what seems to be agreement; you nod at her. 

“Well, I guess I should head that way… she's bound to be waiting for me.” 

Walking up to the massive mansion lined with guards and littered with candles. The entryway is opened for the invited to shuffle in and out of the party. Just deep breaths, smile, and be pleasant…have grace, and don’t throw punches to the face; saying the rhyme in your head brings back fond memories, and you have to stifle a laugh breaking from your throat. One of your two companions notices you hiding a smirk; he notices everything, and it never fails to drive you crazy. 

“Nervous Darling?” Astarion smirks, his red eyes observing you as if he could read your mind. 

“Nope, are you?” You challenge. 

Astarion fakes a laugh and smiles, showing his long fangs flashing in the candlelight. “Never” 

Typical…

Walking through the entrance is like walking through time; these balls have always been the same. The host and the house may change, but the overcrowded rooms are filled with the rich and self-important. Deep breaths… keep taking deep breaths….

Arriving at the main hall of the home with Astarion and Shadowheart in tow, you pause with them as they marvel at the grand space. It truly is a beautiful event. Servers glide around the room with their pristine trays, serving fine wines to everyone; Astarion is quick to grab himself a glass as they walk past. The center of the room is filled with people clapping and turning, floating along to the music. Shadowheart keeps her green eyes scanning the dance floor; she is looking for someone in particular…it is the only reason she decided on attending this ball, along with your pleading. Moving your eyes around the space, the candles light the room brightly and make the gilded arches and decor glimmer in an almost magic shine. Knowing how these people love theatrics, they probably had wizards put on some spells for the grandeur of it all. 

Turning to your friends, you see they are entirely taken in by the atmosphere, though when Astarion meets your eyes, he plays his wonderment off as if this is nothing to him. As they continue to stroll about, you continue to fuss around with your dress, the corset's tightness starting to irritate you, and the flowing skirt and sleeves feeling like they're going to wrap around your legs and trip you. You curse under your breath as you have a small battle with the dress picked out for you. 

“Dress issues?” Astarion teases 

You roll your eyes, and you adjust the bodice up, but you find the action is in vain as your cleavage is still on full display. It's been years, and it makes sense the dress wouldn’t lay the same, but the high golden necklace always sat tight on your neck, forcing you to keep your head up, the exposedness of your chest and shoulders always made your cheeks flush, and the tight bodice lined with gold down to your hips always made your breath short. You did like the ruffled white skirt with the red front panel and the matching red sleeves that go from bust to cascade down your arms; it did look nice. But the part you constantly fidget with for comfort is the emblem at the center of your sweetheart neckline. It's that same one it's always been, a golden longsword with two golden roses…

“Just…adjusting…” you smirk back to hide your irritation. 

“These corsets are murder but do wonders for the figure at least?” Shadowheart chimes in 

Her silvery white hair contrasted beautifully with her lilac silk dress. The fabric looks like it drapes and flows effortlessly off her polling elegantly at the bottom, and as she moves, it reveals a long slit over her right leg. For a dress she picked out today, it looks like it could have been custom-made for her. She had fussed about the dress and her hair, wearing it in a different style than usual, but you assured her she looked terrific and would catch the eye of a certain soon-to-be duke…

Astarion places reassuring hands on yours and her shoulders. “Well, the dresses are definitely an improvement from the drab, caked-up with, grime outfits I had grown accustomed to seeing you in.” 

You both look at each other before looking at him unamused. “Thanks, Astarion…” you say in unison, not completely happy that he pointed out your dirty states on the journey you all met on. 

“Anytime Darlings~” 

Shadowheart’s eyes go back to the dancefloor, and you think for a moment that you see her getting on her tiptoes (despite being in heels) to look over some heads. 

“I think I might stroll around the room…see if I can find any…interesting company.”

You and Astarion look at each other, knowing what she truly means; translation: Shadowheart is going to look for Wyll. They are such an opposite duo, but they are just drawn to one another. Astarion always teases the names Shadow Princess and the Horned Prince when talking about them and their longing for each other. 

Shadowheart turns to see your smirking faces and she rolls her eyes before walking off. Good luck you silently wish for her… 

You watch as she makes her way through the crowd, a part of you wants to go with her to help navigate the space but you know she wants privacy for this and you don’t blame her. While you watch the floor a familiar sensation of red eyes and a fiendish smirk being placed in your direction makes you shudder. Looking up at him you see a very well-dressed Astarion looking like a vision in all black except for the wine-colored small jacket and gold and ruby necklaces hanging from his neck. When you asked about the jewels he just chuckled and left a quick poke on your nose, a way to irritate you and avoid your questions. He continues to stare and smile at the devious thoughts running rampant in his mind. 

“Yes?” 

Astarion looks away with a slight laugh, “Oh, nothing nothing…just curious if you were going to go look for anyone special tonight. Any fine suitors on the line for you to turn about with?” 

When asked only one person flashes in your mind, but you shake it off not wanting to get your hopes too high. He would probably find something like this a waste of time. 

“No, I’m planning a rather dull evening of just watching the grander, saying hi to familiar faces. No suitors eager for my hand. You?” 

Astarion looks around the room piercing his lips, “I might also be having a rather drab evening…nothing seems to catch my eye, which is too bad I was in the mood to make some trouble.” 

A slight laugh escapes your throat and Astarion looks at you with a raised brow, “Something funny?”

“Well, I just think you have changed a lot since a certain bear tagged along…come to think of it you just came back from the old shadow lands and are planning to go back…” 

Astrion narrows his eyes at you and you grin widely knowing he’s smitten. 

“Very clever…well, I will leave you to it, going to go find some more wine and maybe go rub elbows with some important-looking people…” 

“Play nice Astarion!” 

“No promises! Ta Ta!” 

With both your friends gone you're now alone in the ballroom and now it definitely feels like old times. Memories of your childhood flash through your mind as you watch. In your memory it's a younger you, biting her lip in disdain and fumbling with her dress, head sore with the elaborate braids that were decorated with trinkets and jewels. The biggest thing you remember? The feeling so isolated and unwelcomed by people meant to be your peers. You can recall two gentle hands placed on your shoulders as people just passed you by…

Shaking off the memories you look at the huddles of people near the walls engaged in conversations, “Well, better go say hi to mom and dad…” Gathering up your skirt and taking another deep breath you go on the prowl. 

It was overwhelming and Rolan had to stand to the side to recollect himself. It turns out that coming to socialize with people from the upper city was a lot more difficult than he initially expected. He was starting to wonder why the hell he came here. Yes, he had been formally invited but the people didn’t seem to know who he was or they were staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Was this all a joke…was he just a thing to be stared at and mocked for the night's entertainment?

Looking down at his crimson hands and long nails…his tail twists around his leg as he balls his hands into tight fists. He shouldn’t have come here, he didn’t belong. Cal and Lia had been so excited about his invitation and were eager to help him get ready with high hopes of him growing his name to the city's lords and ladies. He had promised to make friends and get them invited to the next ball, but now that seems like a silly fantasy. 

Unraveling his tail and holding his head up, he decides to leave until a familiar figure catches his eye. Astarion? The pale elf has his red eyes on Rolan while keeping a smug smile on his face, instead of waving or greeting him; however, Rolan's thoughts trail to something, someone else. Scanning the room he’s hoping to catch the sight of a particular hero…

“If it isn't the Archmage of Ramaziths Tower, I figured you would see these parties as a waste of time.” 

Rolan's body immediately tenses and he turns around quickly, You smile for having spooked him. You watch as his shining eyes widen as they trail over you, his lips slightly parted and you think you hear his tail fall to the ground. From his reaction alone you're suddenly no longer lamenting having to wear the dress and in fact decide to stand a bit straighter. Once he realizes he’s staring he averts his gaze from your chest and neck, clearing his throat. 

“Tav, what…why?”

“What? Not happy to see me? 

“I- no…I mean I am! Well not happy, I mean I am happy but not super happy, but a surprised happy! Uh…pleasantly surprised….” 

His eyes meet yours and winces at himself, understanding how these parties can whine someone up you decide to ease the tension. Giggling at his rambling you gently punch his shoulder breaking the awkwardness threatening to set in. The force of the punch causes him to stumble and smile. 

“It’s good to see you, but I’m a little shocked. I figured these parties would be far too stuffy for such a great adventuring hero of the gate.” 

You shrug looking out to the party where you see Astrion watching you two, you give him a look of ‘what?’ and he shakes his head with a smirk and walks away. You turn back to Rolan, 

“Actually I’m pretty used to these stuffy parties.” 

Rolan’s brows furrow as he looks down at you confused, you do the same as you look up at him, and then it clicks. 

“Rolan, I’m from Baldur's Gate. I grew up having to go to these parties and having to take etiquette classes. My mother is a countess, from a long line of nobility and my father is a general for a regiment of the city's army.” 

Rolan's eyes widen as you nonchalantly explain your past, “Your… a lady from an important house of Baldur's Gate…and you were out slumming it in the wild? Wielding swords and blowing up goblin camps?” 

Thinking for a second you nod “Yeah, my dad used to take me camping and taught me how to fight. Mom wanted me to be a proper socialite but I didn't exactly fit in… Once I got older they told me I could go travel the swords coast, get the wildness out of me before finding a suitor, ya know?” 

Rolan shakes his head with a smile, “So you left all of this to adventure and ended up getting a tadpole in your head. That inevitably leads you back here…” 

“Hey, I had adventures before that! But I will say that one was my favorite.” 

Rolan smirks and looks down at you, “Because it made you a hero?” 

You look up at him, his gentle gaze and soft loose strands of hair cascading around his horns making your heart flutter, “Because I got to make friends, and meet you.”  

Rolan's face gets slightly darker as he thinks of something to say. With him tongue-tied you take the opportunity to tease him more by sticking your tongue at him. He rolls his eyes and turns away, you swear you see the tips of his ears a light hue of marron now. 

“Why are you here? And are Cal and Lia with you? I miss them and their tormenting of you.” You continued to tease. Though you see Rolan’s face slightly drop. 

“Well…I was the only one to receive an invitation and I didn’t realize I could bring anyone…I wish I would have, with them around I wouldn’t feel so…” Rolan shakes his head as if to shake away his thought, “I came here to meet people to get them interested in the tower's knowledge and to show that I am a worthy archmage. But I haven’t been able to talk to anyone “ 

Your heart sinks as you listen to Rolan, you remember having to go there alone at times…Rolan is always trying so hard for his family, it's quite honorable of him and one of the things that drew you to him. Thinking for a moment you try to think of a plan before it hits suddenly, “Rolan I can get you a formal introduction to someone who is very important and that I know would like to hear about the tower.” 

Rolan’s face lights up, “I would, I would be so grateful.” 

Smiling you wrap your arm around Rolan’s elbow, a part of you thought that he would recoil but he seems to welcome the gesture by straightening his posture and tightening up his arm. Your hand creases his bicep and it takes every part of you not to start teasing him about his surprisingly muscular form. Act like a proper socialite, for Rolan’s sake. 

As you two stroll about the floor you keep your eyes peeled. Though you do see some people staring at you and Rolan as you walk arm in arm, you figure people are just wanting to gawk at the hero and the new archmage. 

“Seems like we are popular sights tonight.” 

Rolan hums, “I think you are the popular sight, I’m probably more of the skeptical…” 

“Specktical?” 

Looking over to meet your eyes Rolan just gently squeezes your hand, “Never mind, uh, so who are we looking for?” 

“Her.” 

Pointing out your finger you lead Rolan’s eyes to a group of women fanning themselves as they scan their eyes like hawks around the room. They are all dressed immaculately and as the two of you approach they keep their eyes locked on you both. One of the women quickly whispers to a taller woman, the taller woman turns and Rolan has to hold back his gasp. 

She looks like you…well an older version but still stunning. Rolan feels his throat instantly dry and when he looks over to you with a panicked expression, he admittedly comprehends what's happening and he’s never felt so unprepared in his life. Feeling him tense you keep a soft smile and gently rub small circles on his hand, trying to ensure he’s calm when meeting your mother. 

In front of the intimidating woman (he sees where you get it now) you release yourself from his arm and give a curtsy. Rolan follows your lead and gives a bow. 

“Countess, I would like to formally introduce you to Archmage Rolan, Master of Ramaziths Tower. Rolan, this is the Countess, also known as my mother.” 

You feel your cheeks grow red, you're introducing a man to your mother…you never thought this would be happening, it’s very proper of you. Looking up at her face you see a soft smile, for her that’s practically beaming. So far so good. 

“I heard about the last master's passing…” she says casually. You and Rolan exchanged a glance before she continued “Can’t say I wasn’t fond of the news, he was always a poor representation of the tower. A bit of a cad.” 

Rolan’s jaw practically drops and you are quick to continue the conversation for him while he recollects himself, 

“Well, I will have to tell you Rolan is quite proficient in magic, self-taught and self-disciplined. He plans on studying and cataloging the tomes in the tower to then share the knowledge with the realms.” You praise 

“That's quite the honorable aspiration for a young man. I am sure everyone would be quite pleased to have access to its knowledge. I have been to your tower once before in my youth, the smell of the weave in the air and the majesty of all the books still leaves me with pleasant memories.” 

Meaning: ‘Invite me over to see the tower again because ladies do not invite themselves places’. You're not a bit surprised your mother is taking a fast liking to Rolan, he has a title, is respectable, and usually can hold his own in a conversation but today he seems to keep getting tongue-tied, we’ll chop that up to nerves. With a subtle nudge to his arm, you break him out of his daze where he can give her a proper answer. 

“Well, th-thank you. I think everyone should have access to knowledge if they want it. Also, you and Tav should join me at the tower for tea. I will have to prepare a bit but I would be delighted to have you two there.” 

Two of her ladies-in-waiting mutter something to each other earning them a prompt glare from the Countess. They quickly scurry away. 

“I would be delighted to just name the date. Plus I would love to hear about how you two met, knowing my daughter that story will be filled with twists and turns.” 

Rolan giggles and you look at your mom in shock as she openly teases you. You have never seen her be so casual with a stranger, well for her this is casual. You can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, you never were one to crave approval from anyone but it does feel nice when your Mother seems to improve the boy you like. 

“I will have you know I handled myself with dignity and grace-“ 

“I watched her punch someone in the face for defending my kind, it was a lasting impression, a good one,” Rolan says with a laugh and causes your mother to let out a giggle -that woman never giggles!

“Well I will have to forgive her for that, sounds like that punch was well deserved.” Your mother looks at you and you see a softness in her eyes “My tough girl.” 

The moment is soft before your mother changes the subject. Ladies must keep the conversation flowing after all.  

“Now Tav, why don’t you introduce Master Rolan to your father? I’m sure he would love to meet him.” 

With a curtsy and a bow, you two make your way to find your father. 

“Never seen you so proper…” Rolan leans down to whisper in your ears, you have to fight the tingling that threatens to show on your skin. Nothing quick like his mockery so close to you. 

You take Rolan's arm so he’s leading you through the room, “Never seen you so tongue-tied…” you mock back.

“She's intimidating… I see where you get it from…” 

“You should see when she doesn’t like someone, that’s intimidating.” 

“Any warnings about your father? Or do you plan to surprise me again?” 

“Oh but you do look so cute lost for words, I didn’t know wizards had that capability.” you coo back now blatantly flirting, very unladylike. The scandal…

Feeling bold Rolan tightens his grip on your arm where you can feel his nails against your skin, it is mind-numbing this sudden game. “And I didn't know how ravishing you look in a dress so tightly wound to you.” 

The sudden boldness of his words makes you pause, and your cheeks redden. Rolan nervously clears his throat unsure if he overstepped… he brings his eyes up for a distraction and lucky for him he finds one. 

“Tav look”, Following his gesture to the dance floor you see a heartwarming sight that distracts your thrumming heart. Wyll spins around the dance floor holding Shadowheart close to his body and he leads her through the dance. They look like a vision together, everyone seems to pause and look at them as they command the space with little effort. 

It's while you're watching them you feel a warm hand wrapping around your own. Looking up to its source you see Rolans gleaming eyes on yours taking you in slowly. You swear it’s a secret spell of his to become out of breath and feel sparks when you look at him. The feeling rushes through your veins like it has since you first met him at the grove and all the moments after. Rolan's lips part gracing you with a quick view of his sharp teeth till suddenly you feel yourself being grabbed and thrown into the air.

“And! There is my wayward daughter! Our righteous hero graced us with her presents! Ha Haaa!” 

The voice is loud and booming as the large arms wrap around you forcing your body into the air before crashing you back down to your heeled feet. Your father, as bostress as ever and completely uncaring for these parties 'etiquettes’ as always. In a lot of ways, the apple did not fall from the tree. 

Taking a moment he scans over you, it's been far too long since you saw him, and from how you ramble and rave at each other it shows. Then his eyes start to scan around you till they are meeting with Rolans, and your father smiles like a Cheshire cat. 

“Ah, and I see the rumors are true. You have a gentleman escort this evening.” 

“Actually I have two others but one is dancing with the Duke's son while the other is bound to be causing trouble.” 

“Trading in for different companies.” His eyes go to Rolan and you see him tease over your father's gaze, “Now to see if this man was worth it.” 

“Well, he is a wizard…” Your eyes go to Rolan and you two are now assessing him

“Meet plenty of spellcasters,”

You continue, “Archmage of Ramiths tower…he got the areca artillery working in the battle saving my and my friends' necks. 

“The Fire Rainer!” Your father yells, making Rolan and nearby people jump.

Before Rolan can properly process what is happening your Father is grabbing his hand in a crushing grip that Rolan returns. 

“My men, We were all in awe of your work getting those dusty turrets to work. And for helping my Tav. Good man.” he continues to shake Rolan's hand for a long moment before letting go and placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s good company to keep, strong grip and with fire in his eyes.” 

You look at Rolan giving him a nod of a good job before your father is turning to both of you. With a wide grin. 

“Now! Rolan, if you walk around with my daughter you must ask her for a dance!” 

Rolan stutters over his words as you look at your father like he’s lost his mind. 

“Dad, You can’t make him dance.”

“Why not? He wishes to be near you; he must dance with you.” 

The words make you flush as you avoid Rolan's eyes, “He’s not the dancing type…” 

This causes Rolan to lift a brow, then you feel Rolan’s warm hands on yours leading you suddenly towards the dance floor. In a swift flourish, Rolan spins you and grasps his hand in yours, placing the other on your hip and smirking at your shocked expression…

“Looks like he is!” your father calls barely audible through the music. 

The transition to the dance is effortless as you two glide across the floor. Watching his glimmering eyes on yours is spurring your heart into a rush. Your body feels like it’s on fire as he effortlessly glides you through turns and claps. Eyes never leaving one another. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance?” 

Rolan scoffs, “Of course, I know how to dance, you don’t think I haven’t gone to parties before?”

lifting a brow, you look at him with an unamused expression, “OK, I might have practiced…”

You laugh and let him spin you out, then catching your hand and pulling you back to him. His hands in yours, your back flushed to his chest. The dance is completely intertwining, his scent, his warmth, the purring of his chuckling laugh. You want more, your hope is for this dance to never end so you can stay in his arms.

With a twist and a sway of your hips, you smile at him as the blush rushes to his speckled cheeks, a reminder that you are experienced at these dances and you will not hesitate to spice up the moves if it means rubbing against him. It makes his heart thum as he turns you around again, his tail wrapping slightly around your dress as he steps with you till plunging you down to a dip.

A perfect dance partner, finally.

You two stay locked within each other's snare, a small feeling of leaning forward towards each other causing your mouth to water in anticipation of a kiss. Then breaking you two from the moment is roaring applause that fills the room. He lets you rise, and you two join the applause of the musicians as well.

A normal socialite would worry if people could tell how much you liked him. You don’t care, however, Rolan is magnificent, and you would scream it at the top of your lungs, but you know this is his chance to impress rich bastards and prove himself worthy of his new illustrious Title. Of course, the right people already know this, he doesn’t need to impress them.

As you look to the crowd to make your way to your dad to give him sass (and maybe a pat on the back for making that happen for you) you see Rolan Pointing to the front part of the dance floor, music starting to swell up again and your father and mother swaying to the song. Another set of perfectly matched dance partners. 

Offering his elbow to you again, you curtsy at Rolan's gesture and let him lead you off the floor. A perfect gentleman, If your mother is watching she is beaming with pride (though she will talk to you about that hip swaying later). Off the floor, your dry throat hits you,

“ I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh I can-“

“Rolan I can grab drinks, I’m still a hero of the Gate, not a delicate flower.” You tease him.

“A glass of wine sounds great then,” 

“I will be a quick second, wait here” With that you gather your skirt and shuffle away. Both of you trying to hide your dorky grins for one another. 

Then a stray voice catches Rolan off guard, “Dancing with a noble…but don’t forget you're just hellspawn trash…” 

Roland’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly, but he is met with nothing but a crowd of people wrapped in their own world. One that some are not willing to invite him to. He watches them so clearly, trying not to stare, others staring, and sharing whispers. Then his eyes meet yours.

Golden eyes that you can always catch in any crowd. They shine his brilliance and never fail to make your heartbeat rush. Anyone would be lucky to have him look their way and right now that’s you, drinks in hand, you pick up your speed to get to him faster, but then his starburst eyes shut in something that resembles pain and then he’s gone…Rushing out of the room away from you.

Pausing you watch him leave, your heart sinking to your stomach. Swallowing down the feeling you place the cups on the nearest waiter's tray and run after him.

The hallways are dark as you follow after him. It only gets darker and darker, till you see him dipping into a side room, shutting the door behind him. It takes a bit of self-control on your part, not to rip the door off its hinges as you open it, but the site makes you slow down.

His tail twisted tightly to his leg, hands in his hair, and talking quickly in infernal. Gently you close the door behind you, and with a click lock giving you two privacy in the dark office. Rolan's shoulders tense at the sound of the lock, he can’t bear to look and see your disappointment. You carefully approach as he braces his hands down on the desk. His body so tight you think he will snap two.

“Rolan, wh-what happened?” 

Turning his head, his golden eyes shine through the darkness. And they see you perfectly. Face contorted in worry as you gently approach. Your face is the one he knows, the one he saw shining in the sunlight of the Grove, the face that saved him from shadows in the cursed land, the one who held his bruised face so gently promising Lorroakan would never hurt him again… the hero of the gate…his hero.

Then his eyes tail down, his Tav, the hero, dressed in the finest fabrics, a lady of Noble Birth, someone too good for someone like him.

In your eyes, you see him for what he truly is, a strong dreamer, someone who you would walk through the Hells for. A man so dedicated to the ones he loves, you want to love and care for him till your last breath.

“I don’t belong here…I am a joke…a monster for everyone to gawk at.” He finally confesses. 

Your eyes grow wide and all you feel is anger, “Did someone say something to you…do something?! Who? I swear I will-“ 

Before you can, march back into the ballroom and demand reconciliation with blood, you feel warmth wrapping around your shoulders and around your ankle. Rolan's warmth envelops you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Clinging to his forearms you lean into him letting yourself calm.

“You're better than any of them…” you whisper

“Is that what you think?” he mutters in response

“Rolan it’s what I know, you're extraordinary.” 

Rolan’s arms tighten around you making you never want to leave his caress, but you still turn to look at him. placing a hand on his face, he’s perfect in your eyes…

“We are different…” he almost pouts

“I like our differences.” 

Rolan’s hands slip down to your waist. 

“Won’t they slander you, and your family's name?” 

“Not the people who matter to me…” your words like a promise

You lean into him rising to your toes to be only a touch away from his lips. You feel his breath fan across yours, and a rush of desire floods your body and mind.

“They will say I tainted you…” his hands caressing your face so gently

“They can go fuck themselves” 

The smile you two share is perfect, right before he presses his lips to yours. His lips caressed yours, setting your body a flame, his nails digging into the sides of your dress, and as you felt their points, you gasped and let him trail his lips sloppily on your jaw to your neck. Your mind melted at every rush of his lips, becoming more breathless as the pleasure of this moment crashed over you then pooling into an aching need in your lower stomach. All the blood and the thoughts rush to your swelling bud, leaving your mind in a haze of lust.

Rolan’s tongue licks down at your clavicle while his hands move to cup your breast. You can’t help but shake as he presses kisses and sucks marks to the tops of them. Rolan’s lips find yours again in hunger this time as his tongue seeks to taste more of you. Eargery you met his passion with your own tasting, his wine-laced tongue burning against yours. Undoing the buttons of his jacket you strip it off him in a rush. Once it’s off and tossed to the floor he breaks the kiss and whimpers against your lips, his chest vibrating under your fingertips in a purr. 

Turning you quickly, your thighs meet the side of the desk as his lips continue to caress your neck, removing your necklace to nip on your most sensitive spots, all you can do is moan and chant a series of ‘yeses’ and sweet mews of his name. He hums as he spoils himself, touching all over your form. 

“More, Rolan…I want to feel more,” your pant 

“Here?” The question is raspy and sends shivers through you to your sex. 

“Yes.” 

Rolan responds by peppering kisses all over you as he quickly gathers your skirt around your hips. Bending over you feel your face burn as you hear is breath hitch, 

“F-fuck…” he whispers 

You're already bare opting for no underwear, a destination you made on a meer whim but are happy with now. A whimper escapes him as he views you slick and puffy cunt for him, in a deep dialect he mutters something you can not understand that causes your slit to quiver. he no longer has patience his want takes control and you hear his frantic hands undoing his belt. 

The moment is eager and full of hunger, the want between you two building to this moment of passion. Rolan has your skirts gathered in a fist as he pushes his burning erection through you making your head spin. The moment is raw and hungry as he hisses from your walls so tight and soft around him, fuck, nobody told him how…soft humans were…

The feeling of the stretch is eye-watering as a lewd moan erupts from your throat, then the feeling of every ridge sliding and reshaping your velvet insides. The curve of his cock brings his sharp tip to find your sensitive spot, nudging and coating it in his burning precum, your toes curl in your heels as your vision blurs, tightening your grip on the oak desk. It's hot, intense, and the best pleasure you have ever felt. 

Rolan whimpers and moans as he pushes into your heat further. His face comes down to bury himself into your neck grunting in what sounds more like a whine. Sweat is sheening both of you now in this heated moment your only reprieve of coolness is his panting breath on your neck. Then his hand comes down to yours bracing you and he intervenes his fingers with yours before he gives a final thrust, his blazing tip now nudging on the deepest parts of you. Your slit is taut and your insides flutter against him as you get accustomed to his rigged girth. 

“Gods, you feel amazing. Practically sucking me in…” his rich voice rasps into your ear making you shudder. 

Taking a second to breathe in the scent of your sweaty neck and your cascading hair; further getting drunk off you. He rolls his hips back, and the drag of his ridges on your gummy walls is an unimaginable pleasure making you arch in a scream to your god. 

Pulling to the tip it’s only a second of emptiness before his hips are snapping back into you forcing all the air from your lungs. Continuing to thrust into you back and forth at a constant pace, you mew and grip his hand so tightly. Your arousal drips down his cock and your thighs as it's fucked out of you, desperate to coat his cock. 

“Their mighty hero…sweating and dripping for me. You're my girl…you have always been…”  

You can’t even think coherent thoughts only able to respond by arching your back further. The room is drowned in your cock drunk moans and his deep growling as your pussy continues to get ravished by him. Hot waves start to build up in your stomach leaving tingles in their wake as you approach your ecstasy. Rolan feels your trembling against his cock making him angle it in deeper. He’s right in his sentiment…you are his…as he is yours…the bond you share led to this moment of passion—the ultimate satisfaction of the want you have for each other. 

It's bliss and you rock your hips to meet his thrust, a chuckle escapes him before you feel the rough dragging being rewarded to your clit. It's warm and soft with lines of ridges dragging against you. It only dawns on you as you feel its spaded tip you realize he’s grinding his tail against your sticky sex. Both sensations make spots blur your vision as drool begins to pool in your agape mouth.  

In a silent scream, your orgasm crashes over you as all your essences coats him dripping down to fall on his boots and pooling to the floor. Rolan guides you through your high not stopping his thrust while your sex desperately grips him. A ring of creamy arousal forms where you both connect. The sight and feel of your overstimulated pussy fluttering is enough to cause his hips to still and his cock to throb shooting blissfully hot cum in thick spurts, filling you to the brim. The growl is guttural and vibrates through him as he comes down from his high.

Rolan presses his forehead to your shoulder blades as he stays within you for a moment longer letting his ridges smooth as his cock softens till finally pulling out. You can feel the mix of both releases leaking down your legs uncomfortably resisting the urge to beg him to finger it back in. 

“Wait one moment,” he says quickly with a soothing rub to your waist as you hear him digging around for his discarded jacket. 

Then very gently you feel a soft cotton cloth whipping you down to clean you. Soft ‘shhs’ and coos leave his lips and he is careful over your spet sex. He takes his time, then once you're cleaned and your dress is back down you face his back as he cleans himself, looking over his shoulder with a smile as he retucks himself. Leaning back against the desk you relish in watching him rebutton himself up so elegantly. 

His golden eyes stay on you as he gently caresses your sweaty face. Before he leaves he will snap his figures with a spell to clean you two of any lewd residue, but for now, he wants to relish your afterglow. You two stay in silent bliss and his eyes roam over your face, your fingers gently playing with the loose strains of his hair. He’s the first to speak up, 

“I want to court you properly.” 

Your eyes grow wide, and so does your smile, your heart racing, and sparks burst into your stomach. 

“If you were planning to court me, we have already messed up. You're not supposed to have sex beforehand.” 

“I don’t care; I’m not of noble blood, so I will do this my way.” there's that confidence.

Rolan pulls you in for a slow kiss that causes your heart to flip and your head to cloud in a pleasant fog. 

“Good,” you whisper 

Rolan backs up slightly and bows, causing you to giggle as he reaches for your hand. Placing your hand in his, you gently squeeze it as he brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly like a suitor would any proper lady.

[sliverswords]

I just now saw in your bio where you got knighted on the Third of October in the year of our Lord 2023. Firstly, I wish to congratulate you on your knighting. Secondly, perchance you could tell the tale?

Why yes I can, Indeed I have been knighted. twice in fact!

This here is the post in question. You see bonking people is my thing. Whether by notes, wrapping paper tubes, or in a verbal joust! And I haveth a sword in my name so it is only appropriate that the great queen @enigma-absolute (God bless her soul) hath made me a knight of her court to defend her honor (and to beaker people to death)

To this day I believe I have upheld the duties of my station and my queen has become a quite beloved friend

I thank ye for inquiring as to my story. These ‘asks’ as they are called are much fun.

[the-meme-monarch]

what scc does with empty wrapping paper tubes

K_K: uses it like a telescope

Cap'n: uses it like the worlds longest megaphone

Sweet: uses it like the mightiest of swords

ty for your time :)

one of them is going to accidentally bonk one of the others with their respective tube and it is going to become A Brawl

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Oof, sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you like that 😅

Ooo, you’re doing a one word three sentence prompt? Uhhh, how about sword?

Wind roared as he lunged forward, empty wrapping paper tube in hand like a sword. Warriors parried the hit, sending the tube flying before it smacked Legend in the face. Tingle oinked in delight as Warriors checked in his friend while Wind burst out laughing.

[birgittesilverbae]

what about bea unable to even touch a stencil, paintbrush, sketching pencil after shannon loses the halo. shannon noticing but not saying anything, sneaking sideways looks, flipping through the old works she made with bea side by side.

when bea finally opens a tube of paint again the smell of it immediately results in her breaking down

why must you hurt me like this

Shannon herself slow to get back into art, her hands so vividly remembering shaping the wraiths she's no longer cursed to see, holding her brushes and remembering lazy afternoons with Bea in meditative silence cleaning their travel painting kits and the look of focus on Bea's face as she worked grime out of her rubber erasers, the same look Shannon sees now when she's repairing the leather of the cruciform sword's grip, tip of her tongue poked out as she carefully aligns the wrapping. Mary taking her for sunrise after sunrise in the faint hope that it might stir her to creativity

Bea coming home from Ronda and heading for the journal, her eyes catching on the stack of art gear that's been sitting untouched in the corner of the hidden room since she took ownership of the bearer's quarters. finding a scrap of paper tucked in there that she'd forgotten about, a little doodle shannon had passed to her once of a hand roll with arms and legs, a tiny sword in one hand and the halo in its back, a little speech bubble saying "no more mister rice guy" arcing up from it's mouth

rubbing her thumb across the bristles of one of her brushes, cracking open a tiny wooden travel palette, the paint still wet in the wells, tears pooling in her eyes with how clearly she can remember that last afternoon, only a handful of days before her eighteenth.

[im-a-literature-trash-baby]

Curiosity killed the cat (Dottore x fem!Reader)

[based on the leaks that there’s an abandoned laboratory in Sumeru]

---------------------------

You were on your usual walk in the forest of Sumeru. It was a nice spring day, the weather was warm and a light breeze hit your face gently from time to time. You liked walking in nature, it was a great way for you to relax and catch up with yourself. You were an adventurer, and your tasks had been quite overwhelming lately, not even mentioning the repetitiveness of them. Sometimes you felt like the best part of your job, the adventure itself, is non-existent. But now that you are here in Sumeru you can finally catch a break from all of these things.

There was a place that you liked to visit while you were on your little walk. It was an abandoned laboratory. You had no idea who it might have belonged to in the past. You weren’t interested in telling anything about the place to your friends at the Akademiya or at the Guild so they couldn’t give you any tips about who owned this place. You didn’t want anybody to know about your little getaway place.

However, there were certainly some interesting if not straight-up suspicious things dispersed all around and inside the building. Papers about experiments, objects that were most probably either used during them or were the product of them, test tubes shattered, desks turned upside down. Not even talking about the condition of the building itself. Sometimes you wondered whether it's truly worth it to keep this place to yourself and not just go to the local police to investigate the case.

But whenever you saw this haunting building it felt like it was begging you to discover its secrets.

You arrived and took a step inside, but this time something didn’t feel right. You couldn’t wrap your head around what it was, but your instinct was telling you that it would be better for you to disappear in the shortest time possible.

But you've come here so often and there never was any problem. Maybe it's just your brain pulling tricks on you, maybe you are imagining this. With this in mind, you went further into the building. For today you planned to take some documents away from what seemed to be the main office in the past. Maybe doing some research with those in the library would tell you some things about the place and its previous owner.

You heard a noise from the direction that you were going. Most probably it even came from the said office. 

‘Maybe some people had broken in here, that’s why I had this feeling since I entered.’ You thought to yourself. You grabbed the sword hanging on your waist. Even though you didn’t have a Vision you were skilled in swordsmanship. It was just a few treasure hoarders probably anyway. You had taken down many of them before and you weren’t against the idea of adding a little more to that list.

The noises kept coming and as you moved closer and closer, this time more carefully than before, it became clear that you were right, the clatter came from the main office. But something was still not right. Treasure hoarders tend to be in groups or at least in pairs and yet you didn’t hear anybody talking. This is an abandoned building and the area itself is quite deep into the forest, they could talk normally to each other. 

‘It implies that there’s only one person here.’ you thought ‘It’s either really good or really bad news for me...’

As you took another step forward the old floor cracked under your weight and the clattering immediately stopped, instead of them you could hear footsteps coming towards you.

A tall, blue-haired man came out of the room. His mask hid the upper half of his face, making him more intimidating than he already is to you.

‘Oh, a little flower from Sumeru found her way here, it seems.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘If I were you I wouldn’t ask unnecessary questions.’ He looked at your hand that was on the handle of your sword. ‘You seem to be an adventurer of some sort if I’m guessing correctly. Please, don’t even think about pulling out that sword, our powers are on completely different levels. We are no match for eachother.’

You gulped. ‘You seem to be pretty confident in your skills... Are you owner of a Vision?’

The man laughed at you. ‘No, I’m afraid not, but are you?’ 

‘Me neither.’ You looked at him visibly confused, you thought your question about him owning a Vision was completely normal and understandable.

‘Well, may I ask you about your intention of being here, little miss?’

‘I tend to take walks around here. Sometimes I come into this building as well. It's a truly fascinating building with many secrets I haven't discovered yet.’

‘Have you taken anything from here?’

‘No, and I’ve never thought to do so.’ You told him this white lie in the hopes of him believing you completely. You really should have gone out of the building when your gut was telling you to do so.

‘But you read through the documents laying around here, yes?’

‘Only a few of them...’

‘Now, you see, that’s quite the problem. Haven’t you been taught to not touch others' belongings?’ He stepped closer to you by a few steps and you went back the equal amount. He laughed at you, again.

‘So this place was yours?’

‘Again with the questions. I’m trying to be polite and nice here but you are playing with my patience.’ His gentlemanly voice had disappeared by the end of his sentence and changed into something way more aggressive. You got even more scared than you already were.

‘I never told anyone about this place!’ You could feel your legs starting to tremble when he came closer to you. This time you didn’t have the strength to move even half a step back.

He put his hand on your left cheek and started rubbing it with his thumb. ‘Look at you, shivering just by my presence alone, and you don’t even know who I am. Poor thing, I’m this close to sparing your life.’ He held up his other hand and with his thumb and index finger showed you your chances of living, which were quite low coming from the fact that they had little to no space between them.

‘So you are planning to kill me?’

‘Well aren’t you a clever girl?’ He answered with sarcasm in his voice.

‘If I die here, no one will find me... My friends back home will never know what happened to me. And the things I want to accomplish in my life... They all would remain undone.’ You felt helpless.

‘Yes, exactly.’

‘Look!... Look... I don’t know who you are but what if we joined hands? I-I might be useful for you in some way.’

‘No, that’s not going to happen.’ He went quiet for a few seconds. ‘Unless...’

At this moment you could feel a numbing pain near your neck and parallel to this your vision started to get blurry. Your legs failed to support you and you fell right into the arms of the mysterious man. His face had a huge satisfied grin on it.

‘Don’t worry, little miss, you’ll just sleep for a little bit.’ He lifted you up with one hand supporting your back and with the other holding your legs. ‘Since you are so fond of this place that you kept coming back, I shall show you my new laboratory. But I regret to inform you that you won’t be able to roam around freely there. I’ll make sure that you are tied down perfectly.

---------------------------

[I might write a part two for this]

[turtle-babe83]

{F!Reader, on the Naughty List}

Warning: NSFW content 18+ only

Just imagine…..

Blue eyes crinkle in amusement as you try to break free.

It starts as a relaxing night of wrapping presents with your sweet boyfriend. A flurry of cutting paper, losing the Scotch tape over and over, pseudo sword fights with empty paper tubes, and scrap paper “snowball” fights fill the first hour or so. Leo’s playful side always makes you melt. But then, Leo finds all the rolls of ribbon and his whole demeanor shifts.

That’s how you find yourself completely naked atop your kitchen table, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

“Look at you, all wrapped up like the gift you are,” he murmurs. “So beautiful and every inch is mine.”

He trails a finger down your thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You hold still despite the tickle, knowing exactly how he likes to play this game. He glories in watching you struggle to obey even as his touch drives you wild.

Leo slips his finger between your thighs, pressing the tip to your swollen pearl, and he asks, “Tell me, y/n, have you been a good girl this year?” 💙

@exovapor @dilucsflame33 @nittleboo @raisin-shell @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @chicchanmooshy @mysticboombox @roxosupreme @zowise2912 @xanadu702 @brightlotusmoon @ashleighclark98 @fyreball66 @tmntspidergirl @lady-maria-the-wolf225 @labeccy @lunar-corgimon @misteria247 @ladyofparchments @raphielover @tortuefaerie @bunnyraptor69 @polypandragon @sharpwindow @tkappi @aurora-the-kunoichi @imthegreenfairy88 @pheradream15 @rheawritesforfun @cowabunga-doll @coulrofilia-sexuell @lilyssims @daedric-sorceress @creepylittlemarvelgirl @raphslovemuffin80 @sketch-and-write-lover @drowninghell @digitl-art-monstr @fluffytriceratops @angelcatlowyn @turtlesmakemehappy @narwals14 @waterstar2016 @bibiz82 @memes-in-a-half-shell @fictionalmenmistress @scholastic-dragon @sewerninno @selfless1978

[foxymoxynoona]

kiddos’ shenanigans of last week????

5 year old: Mom. Everything has a name. 7 year old: Not my sword [it's a little sword he made out of beads] 5 year old: Yes it does. Sword! 7 year old: That's too obvious! 5 year old: What about 'Ouch'?

😂😂I think Ouch is a great name for a sword.

They're obsessed with wtaching videos of themselves as babies right now and we noticed how amusingly unique theri videos are. My younger son is the trolliest baby who ever trolled and all his baby and toddler videos are him doing trolly things --ripping the path lights out from beside our driveway and throwing them into the street, pulling his clothes from drawers and tossing them across the room, giggling about being up past his bedtime as a baby and feeding me the blueberries he's supposed to be eating, sneaking up on my brother sleeping on the couch to put various things from the kitchen on his lap and then poke him in the face with a wrapping paper tube, methodically carrying every measuring cup from the drawers across the house to put in the dog food.

Meanwhile my oldest son is the most firstborn who ever first-borned and his baby videos are all him doing puzzles, or immitating adult phrases, cleaning things up around the house, pretending to vacuum, emotionally checking in with everyone and patting their heads, pretending to sleep next to his napping dad for giggles, etc.

I had to work so much last week my brain is absolutely friend and I'm having a hard time remembering all the other funny and cute things they did last week, but today is a new day :)

[unhelpfultarot]

Ace of Wands and Five of Swords reversed

✅ Bopping people with cardboard tubes from wrapping paper

❌ Using actual deadly weapons on actual people (seriously don’t do that what is wrong with you)

[sins-of-the-sea]

(@nabeandfriends - Nabe)

She appears out of nowhere, menacingly brandishing her wrapping paper tube.

Rui's about to get bonked.

Oh, Ruixiong has no idea.

"Ohh, hello there, Nabe! You wanna play swords?~" He levitates a paper tube over to him without touching it. While still not handling it directly, he swings it lightly to tap onto Nabe's paper tube as though they are crossing swords. "Let's play!~"

[ghost-headcanons]

Do you think the church has enrichment for the ghouls and if so what kinda stuff do they have

I absolutely think The church does and Copia Makes sure there's stuff that all The ghouls like In multiple rooms (possibly a whole wing, do churches have wings ?).

Heres what i think some of the Ghouls favorite things are:

Wrapping paper tubes (sword fights)

Tires (They enjoy Stacking them over eachother and rolling around)

tug of war ropes (Gets VERY competitive)

Piñatas (they aren't allowed to be blindfolded anymore But most still close their eyes anyways)

The ball pit (in its own separate area that the balls aren't allowed to leave)

The Nerf room (Sister was very firm on not having paintball in the church)

Music rooms where the ghouls Make new Exciting sounds with their instruments (many attempts to use every instrument as an accordion, so far none successful)

Giant Cat tree (They LOVE the top and will Push anyone out of the way to get there)

Feel free to Add on or correct me on anything !

[squids-comics]

It's another wonderful Wednesday, which means it's time for issue three of Creative Curator!! Here's Creative Curator: Dine and Bash!!

Page One:

Panel one, top third of page:

Jade Wilson still stands triumphantly over the body of the defeated Chris Mass. Chris sits on the floor, fake beard pulled down around his neck, revealing black stubble. Jade holds the tube of wrapping paper from the last issue like a sword, resting the tip against Chris's throat. Chris looks a little nervous but mostly tired. The house is still in the same state of disrepair from the last issue, wrapping paper, Chrismass baubles and bricks littering the floor. Hivemind stands in the same place, still completely motionless. The kid and their parents are in the living room now, trying to watch TV, but Jade is in the way.

Chris: "Can I please leave now? It's been thirty days..."

Jade: "Not a chance."

Panel two, middle left ninth of page:

The kid's mom looks angrily at Jade.

Mom: "I think you should listen to him. We were fine with you and your weird friend standing in our living room at Chrismass, but we've been sick of you since New Years. January's almost over. Please leave already."

Panel three, center ninth of page:

Jade looks angrily at the mom, narrowing all three of their eyes. They point at Hivemind.

Jade: "Look lady, I'd love to leave. But I can't. Not till the big beehive in the corner tells me what to do with this clown."

Panel four, middle right ninth of page:

Hivemind's beehive head begins shaking and rattling around.

Jade: "About time!"

Panel five, bottom third of page:

A small bee crawls out of Hivemind's mouth and onto his head.

Bee: "Banish him to the land of holiday movies so that he can wreak havoc on bland white people who's only personally trait is Chrismass."

Page Two:

Panel one, top third of page:

Jade grabs Chris by the arm and pulls him out of the living room. 

Chris: "I didn't do anything wrong. It's my holiday! I'm Chris Mass!!"

Jade: "Doesn't matter. Come on."

Panel two, middle left sixth of page:

Without moving in any way, Hivemind slowly begins hovering off the ground.

Panel three, middle right sixth of page:

Hivemind shoots through the roof, leaving a large hole in it.

Panel four, bottom third of page:

the family stares at the destroyed living room and newly formed sky light in shock.

Mom: "Do you think our insurance will cover that?"

Page Three:

Panel one, top left quarter of page:

Jade walks down the street, continuing to pull Chris with him. Chris looks concerned, Jade looks tired.

Chris: "Where are you taking me?"

Jade: "You'll see, we're almost there."

Panel two, top right quarter of page:

Chris and Jade arrive at a large set of gates with a security guard standing in front of them.

Panel three, bottom left quarter of page:

Jade approaches the gates but the security guard stops him.

Guard: "Sorry pal, you missed auditions. We don't need any Chrismass ninjas or mall Santas."

Panel four, bottom right quarter of page:

Jade delivers one quick strike to the security guards jaw, knocking him unconscious. 

Page Four:

Panel one, top third of page:

Jade runs at the gate and vaults over the top. Chris stares in amazement.

Panel two, middle third of page:

Jade disappears behind the gate, leaving Chris alone. 

Panel three, bottom third of page:

The gate swings open. Jade sticks their head out and gestures for Chris to follow them inside.

Page Five:

Panel one, top quarter of page:

Jade leads Chris inside, gesturing at the things in front of them that are out of frame. Chris stares in wide eyed amazement. 

Jade: "Here we are!"

Chris: "It's beautiful!"

Panel two, middle half of page:

The two stand in the bottom of the panel as the reader finally gets to see what they're looking at. They're in a movie studio. In front of them are multiple movies being shot. Scenes include families running and playing in fake snow, couples making out under lampposts in the fake snow, kids building snowmen out of fake snow and a fake interior of a living room with a family setting up a Chrismass tree covered in fake snow. 

Chris: "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Panel three, bottom quarter of page:

Chris puts his fake beard back on, his eyes shining with determination.

Chris: "...I have work to do!"

[shit-the-vampyr-cast-never-said]

Jonathan: Finished the wrapping paper and immediately challenged Mary to a sword fight with the spent tube because I'm a brother and that's just how we roll.

[fistsoflightning]

don't let me go

ffxivwrite2023 13: CHECK to look at (something) to obtain information

anyone else here a fan of transistor? thancred & zaya. 2617 wc.

APARTMENT 14 > TENANT ALIAS: ZAYA > DOOR STATUS: LOCKED

They tried the doorknob anyways. No dice. The flickering aetherial text that only seemed to be visible to them disappeared in an array of sparks seconds after another condition—OBSERVED—appeared above the topmost one declaring them the apartment’s inhabitant.

At least they know now that the information given to them by that is true.

A laugh, soft and right against the curve of their horn. It felt like a caress, or a lover’s whisper, though Zaya didn’t know how they knew what either of those felt like. “Hope your key didn’t mysteriously fall into yet another drain; I recall Tataru getting tired of procuring you a replacement. Though we’ll still be able to get in either way, even without my lockpicking prowess. You can feel it, right? My spare? Seam to get it should be near your inner elbow, with how you’ve rolled up the damn sleeves. I always have to iron my coat twice after you wear it. Not that I’m complaining much. You look lovely in it.”

Zaya felt a faint prickle of heat come to life on their face as they pulled the small key out from the folds they’d made in the coat’s sleeve. It was a strangely shaped key, made not of metal but something golden regardless, with teal grooves that gave off a faint light, but it fit easily when they pressed it to the keyhole on the door handle.

Door unlocked, Zaya grabbed the greatsword from where they had leaned it up against the wall to consider the once-locked door and stepped inside.

“It’s strange, coming here with you, like this. Usually you’re already in bed by the time I get off work.”

The apartment looked like it had seen better days—not in the sense of monsters were here, like the city outside their doorstep, but in the sense of someone has not had the time to tidy up in a long while. There were empty mugs with coffee stains on the kitchen island with stacks of papers, and trinkets everywhere; on the counter, beneath the coffee table, stacked on top of books…

“Certainly looks as if a tornado blew through here. There, on the couch. That bag should fit most of anything you’d like to keep before we skip town.”

Zaya gingerly stepped around a few pairs of shoes, haphazardly taken off and not set aside in the entryway, and picked up the messenger bag from its place among the couch pillows. Nothing seemed to be in it, at the moment, but it did look like it would fit most anything so long as they didn’t want to take anything as large as the coffee table, with its resin fish in the clear tabletop. They slung the empty bag over their shoulder and looked at the table’s design for a few seconds before something on the coffee table caught their eye. Most of the decoration in the shadow-cast apartment was blue, which made what was on the table stand out even more.

Sword in one hand, Zaya leaned down to pick up the end of it not trapped beneath a heavy book. A purple flicker by the end crackled and expanded into letters.

HAIR RIBBON > LENGTH (ILMS): 20 > COLOR: CORAL PINK

“Ryne’s, unless that’s the one she gave to you. She’s been rather forgetful as of late; I keep telling her not to leave her belongings behind when we come here only for her to realize her gel pen or her nail polish is still here halfway across the district. I—she was at the Wandering Stairs. When they… well. She’s clever, and a deft hand with the daggers I gave her for her sixteenth nameday—mayhap she’ll find her way here on her own. Else we’ll need to take a trip to the Third District before leaving.”

Zaya tugged at the end of the ribbon, trying to slip it out from under the heavy book with a title they couldn’t read. Instead of the rest of the ribbon coming out on its own, it dragged along a small black-and-gold cylinder, wrapped in its embrace.

TUBE OF LIPSTICK > ORIGIN: DISTRICT OF THE TRANSCENDENT > SHADE: CHERRY WINE RED

“That would be Gaia’s. It explains why Ryne had makeup on before the party. I suspect that if Ryne manages to return, it will be with Gaia in tow, no matter that she would be safer back home than with us.”

They let the sword’s handle rest in the curve where their shoulder met their neck as they tied Ryne’s ribbon around the tube of lipstick and slipped them into a small pocket in their bag. The strange ridges on the handle felt the slightest hint warm against their scales; for a moment, Zaya imagined the touch of the handle to be a hand brushing away hair, before they remembered how silly that was.

There wasn’t much else of note on the table, so they looked up at the rest of the apartment. Nothing in the kitchen seemed of much worth, not enough to be carrying around assuming they would have to fight more of those things—Terminus, like that tall robed man had said before fleeing—so they turned and walked instead to the hall leading further into the dark. Their sword lit up the smallest area around them, just enough to not slam their knee into a shelf against the wall and to catch on the glass and metal that hung on the wall and decorated the top of the bookshelf.

FRAMED PICTURES > COLLECTION: 29 > FACES RECOGNIZED: 2

“Better we take those too. The less people the Convocation can tie to us, the better. I doubt any of your friends would fare any better against them than we did, much less your family. There’s a few thin scarves in one of the shelves to wrap them in, if you’re as worried as your furrowed brow makes you out to be.”

Sure enough, Zaya found the scarves—mostly blue ones, with a few teal and purple in between—and wrapped the pictures in them one by one. A woman with almost-glowing white hair that was as long as she was tall beamed up at a past version of them in one; in another, seven others in their colorful togetherness threw flower petals at them and a white-haired man with tattoos on his neck. A third had them standing alongside people with similar eyes, and the same colored scales, making food with flour puffed all over. That same woman from the first appeared again with a pink-haired woman as tall as them, distracting them as a lion-man even pinker behind them stood there with a cake and an elven person held a stack of cone-shaped hats in a fourth.

Zaya couldn’t recognize anyone in the pictures besides themselves and the man in the second, only getting the vague hint of warmth from what were clearly beloved memories. They were going to be terribly heavy to carry around if they grabbed every last one.

Wrapped in color, Zaya put all twenty-nine photographs in the messenger bag. Logically, they wouldn’t have all fit—they fit despite it, and the bag remained slim and light.

They almost stepped away from the hallway shelf when the enticing scent of something caught them midstep. A small bag on the end of the shelf caught their eye.

DRIED FRUIT > FRUIT TYPE: PIXIEBERRY > TASTE: SWEET & TART

“This should be in the kitchen, bluebird. Do you ask your sister to get you the tartest ones on purpose? I swear those damned things were only ever sour when I got the chance to eat them. Which I rarely did, mind you.”

Zaya rolled their eyes reflexively—what was so ridiculous about that statement? They couldn’t remember—and put them in their bag with the ribbon and tube of lipstick before moving on.

At the end of the dark hall was a trio of doors; they opened one and found a room more suited to a young girl, desk filled with pens and things for hair and a small, adorable cat-shaped lamp. The next one they tried was the bathroom, with a large mirror that Zaya could see themselves in even without stepping fully into the room. Their eyes widened as they saw themselves, hair falling out of the leather they’d used to tie it and facepaint cracked.

MIRROR > SURFACE: REFLECTIVE > PERSON(S) REFLECTING: 1

“There’s you. Still looking decently put together, even after I failed to save your voice. Wish I could say the same of myself. Remember to clean your facepaint off.”

On the counter, a small basin with clear water and a towel stained with blue splotches varied in intensity seemed to be set their just for that purpose. Zaya stepped in and leant the sword against the counter’s edge before they dipped the towel in the water, wrung it out, and wiped off the worn-out paint off their face.

It was even stranger, to see their face like this—bare of the extra color. Their skin seemed less warm in tone without the stark contrast, their scales too dark, their eyes less bright. If they were less sure of their hands, or their feet, they might have looked in the mirror and wondered who it was staring back at them. As if this body wasn’t really theirs.

“Looking lovely this evening. Though I am the most biased party, and there’s never a state in which I don’t find you so. You’ve missed a spot along your jaw.”

Zaya frowned and tilted their head. Sure enough…

They wiped off the stray spot and left the towel in the basin. Nothing in the bathroom seemed important, so they grabbed their sword again and dragged it behind them as they opened the third door at the end of the hall.

This door led to a large bedroom, not as thoroughly decorated as Zaya felt it should be—or perhaps simply decorated for someone that wasn’t them. There were nice, thick curtains, blocking out most of the city lights, and a few miscellaneous trinkets decorated what surfaces there were, but it all seemed like noise. Meaningless, even as they looked the room over once then twice trying to derive something from it.

What drew their eye first in the room wasn’t the collection of crystals glimmering in the beam of light slipping through the curtains, or the decorations hanging from the ceiling.

It was a pair of gloves sitting on the desk, over a collection of papers filled with pencil sketches.

STRANGE GLOVES > ENCHANTMENT: AETHER-TOUCH > STORIES TOLD: 3,653

“Those are…”

Zaya picked the gloves up and turned them over in their hands. They looked like they would fit them perfectly, so they slipped them on—

The blue stone that decorated the end near their wrist lit up, but little else changed about the gloves. Still, Zaya kept them on, feeling more right than they did before the facepaint came off. They did seem a bit bare, like there was more meant to fit on top of the black cloth gloves and the woven bracelet sewn on with the blue gemstones, but it was better than looking at their hands bare.

“The Convocation must have taken some offense to your skystories. I can’t fathom much else they would have wanted to kill you for. Luckily for us, they didn’t know about me.”

Zaya shrugged, not knowing what a skystory was but understanding the weight the word had through glancing at the sword; their would-be murder weapon. And now they were lugging it around, using it to kill horrific monsters that seemingly appeared out of thin air.

Strange evening.

A flash of light slipping between the curtains caught their attention next. Curious, Zaya set their sword aside, pulled open the heavy curtains and found the window wasn’t just a glass pane in the wall.

BAY WINDOW > ALLEYS TO WANDERING STAIRS: 9 > MOMENTS SHARED: 1,627

“Looks just as comfortable as ever...or maybe even moreso. Did you add more pillows again? I could have sworn there was more space to sit and lie down last time I checked. Not that I can lay down and put my feet up like this. You could, though. Maybe get some shuteye. I’m sure running halfway across the district hasn’t been easy, with this damn sword in tow.”

Zaya looked at the pile of pillows longingly, then glanced back at the doorway. Was it really safe to be sleeping?

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep watch for you. As I always have, and always will.”

There was that uncertain ache in their chest again, that phantom pain that Zaya had once thought was them imagining what it would be like for the sword to find its mark in them instead of where it had actually ended up. They looked to their sword—

THÝRA > PSŪKHḖ: 2 > KILLS TODAY: 1

“I’ll be just fine,” the sword—Thancred—said. The glow of the blade pulsed in time with his voice, painting the walls in soft colors. “The benefit of not having a body. Just prop me up in line with the doorway and keeping watch will be as simple as looking forwards.”

Zaya sat down on the cushioned seat of the bay window, considering as their eyes almost shut on their own just from the close comfort of the pillows. Of knowing they weren’t alone. Of the bay window and the things they couldn’t remember and could barely feel the warmth of. It would be as easy as that, leaving the sword and Thancred to guard them.

They didn’t want to.

Before they kicked off their shoes—horribly uncomfortable, they needed to remember to put on those nice ankle boots before they left—Zaya leaned over the side of the window seat and reached for the sword’s handle to pull it into the seat with them as they laid down. Not the most comfortable thing in the world. Whoever designed the blade had decided to make it nearly as long as they were tall, and with plenty of spikes and points besides—but the sword’s edge was dull when they pressed their palm against it. Pressed against, even, just to make sure. No pain or blood welled to the surface.

“Zaya.”

They looked up at the eye-like decoration in the sword, defined by the glowing lines that shifted from a light yellow to almost pink or lavender at times.

“You don’t have to. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Zaya pressed their lips together into an angry frown instead of a teary one and pressed their palm harder against the sword’s edge. Still no pain.

“Alright, point taken. Still…”

Whatever Thancred said next didn’t matter. They set him on the seat’s cushions as they went about adjusting all the pillows for their horns, and also to ensure the sword didn’t end up stabbing them in their sleep just to prove them wrong.

“Hey. Zaya.”

They laid down again and looked up at the sword’s strange eye.

“I wanted to—I just—mm. Don’t let me go. Alright?”

That, they could do. Their hand, the one that wasn’t pinned under them, wrapped around the handle of the sword. Zaya closed their eyes, curled up beside the sword close enough to feel a faint warmth coming off the metal, and tried to forget that they still didn’t know who Thancred was—other than the body in the street they had pulled the sword from with a strange, awful ache in their heart and tears brimming over in their eyes.