#april bashing (physically)

[awildaspenappeared]

Day 6 of @traumas-tmntober-2024 An Injustice

Two Weeks of Eternity

A farewell was something Donnie was far too young to have let alone a funeral. None of them could process the fact that he was gone and they didn't even have his body to bury.

OR

What if April couldn't bring Donnie back

Word Count: 1489

Two weeks. Two weeks was a very short amount of time. Two weeks was common. Two weeks was a blip in the universe. Two weeks wasn't even anything that special within just a year. Yet, the two weeks it had been since Donnie had passed stretched on like an eternity.

Raphael sat in silence, rolling his wrist absentmindedly. His fingers were tightly wrapped in bandages, splinted with a precision that should’ve been Donnie’s work. But it wasn’t Donnie. It was Leo. Leo, who had quietly taken over the task Donnie used to scold him about, patching up injuries, grumbling under his breath about Raph's recklessness. The absence of Donnie’s voice, that familiar mixture of annoyance and care, hung over him like a ghost. Was it strange to miss being scolded?

He didn't know where he had gotten that injury. His knuckles throbbed as he tried to think back to where it could of happened. Moments after April- He punched the metal column harshly once. Then again. And again.

Later on, when April had come back to her senses, Raphael had decided to remedy that. By beating her senseless. She had killed his little brother. His twin. She had done so many awful, inexcusable things to Donnie that he had let slide. He'd even let Donnie's own strange behaviour, his misplaced loyalty in her go a little for his sake but he was not going to sleep on this. He was done managing his temper.

So he snapped and charged toward her, knocked her to the ground. He pulled back and rammed forward right for her nose, the wet crack of cartilage echoed in the dim alley. The second hit landed squarely on her jaw. Twice. Then he hit her cheekbone. Then her lip. He punched her so hard she was coughing up blood and teeth. He got one more wallop to the eye before Leo had bothered to pull him off of that bitch!

Raphael didn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to fight his brothers, no matter how much rage clawed at his chest. But as he turned back toward April, a low growl tore from his throat. He spat at her, his disgust seething through his entire body. The sight of her mangled face and tangled hair had barely even satisfied him. His heart hammered as he breathed raggedly, he itched to do more. Deep inside he was still screaming to do more but it was all pointless. If Donnie knew what he'd just done he would be livid. But Donnie was gone now.

Raph would bet money that if Donnie somehow managed to come back after that he would just forgive her and move on immediately. Too soft-hearted, too goddamned willing to let her get away with everything, even when it had destroyed him in the end. He was so down bad it had gotten him killed. It infuriated him. Raphael raised his good hand to knock on Leonardo's door.

Leonardo slowly tied the mask around his face, his fingers trembling as he secured the knot. The mask was such a deep, inky blue that in the dim light, it seemed indistinguishable from black. It clung to his scales, a second layer meant to hide the cracks in his composure, to bury the emotions clawing their way to the surface. The dark fabric would conceal the tears he knew were coming, the moisture soaking in without a trace, but it couldn’t hide the bloodshot edges of his eyes. They glared through the narrow slits, raw with the weight of sleepless nights and a mind tangled in turmoil.

He stared into the mirror, the mask transforming him into a stranger. It was ironic, how something meant to conceal could only magnify his pain. Yet still, he tied the mask tighter, hoping it would somehow hold everything in place: his face, his grief, his unravelling.

They were holding his funeral today. There wasn’t much they could do without a body, but their father was used to that kind of grief. He had mourned Tang Shen for sixteen long years and Miwa for fifteen. So the funeral had been set up accordingly but they had all seen their Sensei's face yesterday. His eyes deep with an ache he had learned to carry in silence, and now, it was happening again.

The rituals would be the same as they'd always witnessed: flowers, incense, whispered prayers, but the emptiness would weigh heavier without a body to lay to rest. And with how he died, his soul could be just as vapourised

A cool hand rested on his shoulder, causing him to look at his younger brother. It was painful to see him in a mask colour so unlike his own. Where Leo's mask was blue it wasn't too unsightly to see himself in black but the dark carmine of Raphael's mask made him want to weep again. It didn't suit his fiery personality, the anger that was meant to fuel his every move.

Instead it was just the underlying fear that was present. He had to be strong for the both of them. He steeled himself, clenching his fist tight, fingernails digging under the scales and teeth clenching painfully. With great difficulty he reached up to Raph's hand with his own and rested there for just a moment before he brushed him off and silently made for the door.

He wasn't strong enough for weak words right now. Small comforts and placations wouldn't work on Raph if he had the strength to try. It felt odd describing himself as leading Raph to Mikey even though if Donnie were here, that very same act wouldn't have changed at all. Every consuming thought was plagued by the nightmare-turned-reality.

Leo didn’t bother stopping at Mikey’s room. He already knew it was empty. Mikey hadn’t slept there since that night. He had always spent more time in other parts of the lair, but now he avoided his room entirely, as if stepping inside might force him to confront the nightmare they were all living in. Lately, Mikey either slept in Leo or Raph’s room, wandered through the kitchen, dozed off on the couch, or sat silently in Donnie’s lab. Mikey’s usual energy had been snuffed out, his laughter hollow, his smiles strained and far too thin to convince anyone that he was okay. Every joke fell flat, and seeing that forced brightness on Mikey’s face was almost worse than his sadness.

The sliding door of the dojo parted easily, where the funeral was to be held and where they found Mikey. He was darting from place to place: rearranging flowers in an intricate pattern; placing a photo of Donnie on an easel so it was easy to see; and straightening up the little trinkets placed on the small wooden shrine. At the top of the shrine sat Donnie’s mask—the only thing left of him since April…

Casey stood off to the side, leaning against the wall, watching in silence. The weight of the moment stretched on, unbroken until finally someone spoke.

“This doesn’t feel real,” Casey muttered, his voice low.

Raph scoffed softly. “You can say that again, Jones.”

“This is surreal!” He repeated with a bitter tone. And he meant it. Just two weeks ago Donnie had trained in this very dojo, full of life but getting his ass beat. Now he had a mourning shrine here to offer a cruel solace to the living as he floated through space and time or whatever hell April had condemned him to.

Leo dragged his feet along the carpet as he made his way to Master Splinter's door. He knew when he knocked, he would emerge. Then he'd let everyone else attending Donatello's funeral in. Karai, Slash, Leatherhead, Dr Rockwell, Pidgeon Pete, Mondo Gecko, Timothy, and Shinigami. Everyone they knew and trusted were to be let in to pay respects to Donnie. Leo knew it was selfish to stand here with his hand raised to knock yet still refuse to start it just to put it off for himself.

He wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. The crushing weight of admitting Donnie was truly gone pressed down on him like an anvil. The finality of it wrapped around his chest, constricting until it was hard to breathe. He wasn’t ready to accept that there was nothing left of his baby brother par memories, nothing but this pain shared between them all. But Leo knew he couldn’t hold onto this moment forever. He had to let the others grieve too. This wasn’t a burden for him to carry alone. He was probably selfish, hoping it was just his burden because that would mean none of them cared for Donnie.

With a deep breath, Leo finally raised his hand and knocked. There was no turning back now.

Truthfully, Leo knew there had been turning back as soon as Donnie started to plead and beg April for his life.

Hello!! I say todays prompt but its 3am of the 7th Whoops. Todays prompt was hard to get started but thanks to @agalactichalo I was able to start steamrolling this fic.

It ended up being an episode rewrite plus an au because the writers constantly served an injustice to the audience withApril's poor writing. They couldn't handle complex trauma and plots for her and they always bent the story so she would be painted in the most positive light even when she didn't deserve it. I was so angry when none of the brother's reacted to Donnie's death properly and just forgave April immediately. It was so poorly handled and Donnie doesnt process trauma like at all. Like please, babygirl, you can process the fact you just died!!

Also the panning and zoom in on Casey was so funny. Like why did they choose Jones, his rival out of everyone to focus on aftsr his death if they weren't destined to be boyfriends??? And the rain!! Pathetic Fallacy at its finest and these are two pathetic idiots in love your honour. Anywhizzle, I rewrote it with Raph beating the crap out if April because thats more in line with his character that the episode to me and I found it cathartic. Fanon April I love you so much, pls dont hate me.

Also does anyone know if its 'bar' or 'par' or 'pare' for 'something absolute EXCEPT this'? Many thanks if so!

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: More friends meet Rose, and your parents fly home, leaving the three of you to figure things out together. Bradley is struggling with the six week rule, deeming it unfair that you look so good while he can't have you the way he wants to.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, oral sex, DILF Roo

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

By your parents' last evening in San Diego, Bradley had put them in touch with the realtor he used to buy the Craftsman. They spent hours walking around Coronado with Rose in her stroller all week, looking at houses and getting more ideas. And then they delayed their flight home two times. The fact that they didn't seem to want to leave their grandchild was heartwarming, and now they were seriously talking about moving.

"By the end of the year, we are moving" your mom said, burping Rose in the living room. "I just can't stand the idea of waiting until July to see her again. Makes me want to cry."

It was April now, and they promised to come back for a visit around Independence Day. Bradley already had plans circling in his mind about where he could take you for a few days alone, because things were about to get a lot tougher without your parents around. The two of you were going to need a little vacation to look forward to. And if he could get you alone, he could get his hands all over you as much as the two of you wanted.

"So, are we going back to Mexico or Hawaii in July?" Bradley asked later that night while he watched you get undressed before bed. Your tits looked incredible, nipples huge and pert as you removed your nursing bra.

He forgot what he had even asked you as you ran your fingertips along your breasts and scoffed at him. "Neither, Roo. We have to get serious about saving money for Rose to go to college in just eighteen years." When you pulled your shorts down, he could see your rooster tattoo, and now he really couldn't think.

Bradley grunted. "She'll get a full ride to school. She takes after you. She's already a genius. Whenever I call Tramp, she points right at the dog."

You sighed and smiled at him. "I think you're being optimistic." Your hands were back on your tits, and he immediately reached for his cock, your eyes tracking his every move. "Bradley."

"What?" he rasped, thinking about last week in the backseat of the Bronco. That was the last time the two of you really messed around, and he could tell there were moments when you were uncomfortable in your own skin. But he hadn't stopped wanting you for a single moment. "How do you expect me to watch you strutting around the bedroom completely naked and not get hard?"

You turned toward the bathroom for a few seconds and muttered, "I look weird."

"You look beautiful." When you finally met his gaze, he said, "I love you too much to lie to you, Sweetheart."

He was plainly hard in his boxer briefs with his hand resting on his thigh. He'd never try to pressure you to do anything physical if you didn't want to, but there was no way he was going to let you think you suddenly turned him on less than before.

You dragged your fingers across your breasts again, and Bradley groaned before you tangled your fingers in your necklace chain. You looked a bit bashful, and even that was fucking him up.

His voice was raspy, and his throat was dry as he sat up and asked, "Do you want me to show you?"

You shrugged and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. "Only if you want to."

He was up off the bed in an instant, grabbing you as gently as he could. "Roo," you gasped in surprise as he carried you back to the bed.

You were completely naked, head on his pillow, leg hitched around his hip, and Bradley kissed you so hard, you were moaning. "If you leave the decision up to me, I'm always going to want to show you how I feel about you," he said, voice deep and needy. His fingers grazed along your body, lower and lower until he touched your clit, and you arched off the bed.

"Fuck," you moaned, voice breaking.

"You're so fucking hot," he whispered, running just his index finger through your pussy. You were soaking wet. "You're killing me, Baby Girl." He traced your tattoo, decorating your skin with your wetness while you looked up at him with parted lips and half lidded eyes. You watched him bring his finger up to his lips, and with one swipe of his tongue, he was moaning, too. "Six weeks is a long time when you look this pretty and taste this sweet."

Your teeth sank into your lip before you murmured, "You're killing me, too." Then your fingers were tangled in his hair, and he eased his body down so he was resting against the warmth of your core. It was so close to what he wanted right now, but he knew he couldn't go all the way there. The frustration building inside him was almost pleasurable as you gasped his name as he sucked on your neck.

Nails pressing into his scalp, you didn't stop him when he pulled himself free from his boxer briefs and ran his cock through your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he hissed, guiding his hips away from your body as you pushed him off of you. But instead of telling him to stop, you rolled him onto his back and yanked his underwear down his legs.

His cock was in between your lips before he knew what was going on, and he saw stars as you sucked on him. "Fuck, Sweetheart. Oh, god."

You pulled him free and shook your head. "If you can't be quiet, then I can't give you a blowjob. My parents are out in the living room."

"Please, stop talking about your parents and just give me head," he begged, already panting as you smirked at him. His balls were already tight as you licked your lips and parted them once more for him. Your tits looked irresistible as you knelt between his spread legs, and he would be lucky to last a full minute with this kind of treatment. "I was supposed to be the one showing you how much I want you," he whispered, trying not to thrust up into your mouth.

You responded by taking him deeper until he was grabbing at the bedding to hold back his orgasm. This time when you pulled him free, your saliva dripped onto his thigh. "Just take what I can give you right now."

Two pumps of your fist, and you were sucking on him until he came long and hard, fist in his mouth to make sure he was quiet. You swallowed down his cum and licked him clean as he stared at the ceiling in a daze. "You give me everything."

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

You fell asleep with a smile on your lips after your husband took his time with you, rubbing your clit with practiced fingers and whispering the dirtiest things about how good he was going to fuck you in another few weeks. As it turns out, you also needed to be reminded to be as quiet as possible, especially when he was a whining mess over your breasts.

Even though you knew Rose would have you up in a few more hours, you let yourself drift off to the sound of Bradley's heavy breathing and the warmth of his body. Whenever you started to feel bad about the way you looked, he seemed to be able to lure you back on track. He didn't mind your weird body one bit, and in fact, he was literally counting down the days until you and he could have intercourse. And you wanted it, too.

You barely heard your daughter when she started crying to eat around midnight, because your mom was in the nursery with her so quickly, it was ridiculous. When you padded down the hallway, still half asleep, you could hear her singing to her granddaughter. 

"I got her," you murmured when you walked into the room, and you realized your mom was crying. "Are you okay?"

She kissed Rose's head and whispered, "Of course. I just don't want to be so far away from the three of you. Rose is exactly the way you were as a newborn; a sweet little snuggle bug who turns into a bit of a terror when she's hungry. I can't get enough of her."

You laughed as you sat down in the glider, and she handed your daughter to you once you were ready to feed her. Rose curled up against your body, clearly very hungry. "She is honestly so sweet."

"I love her so much," your mom whispered. "Are you going to be okay when we leave in a few hours?"

You stared at the night light in the corner of the room, surrounded by darkness otherwise. The exhaustion you felt since Rose was born started to get better while they were here, and you knew for a fact that things would start to get harder again soon. "Yeah. We'll be okay. Bradley and I will take some vacation time in July when you come back to stay with her." You met your mom's eyes where she stood. "You and dad are really good at this."

"I'm happy you think so," she said softly. "Retirement is looking better by the minute."

She sounded like she was about to cry again, so you politely kicked her out of the nursery before she could start. She needed to get some rest before their flight home, and you needed to get used to doing this on your own again. You almost craved the routine of going back to work. You missed seeing Cat every day, and you even missed your boss. Rose would be old enough for the daycare pretty soon, and you could sneak over on your lunch breaks to check on her.

But at the same time, the idea of someone else taking care of her for eight hours a day had you almost panicking. "Why are you like this?" you whispered to yourself. You could barely control your emotions at times right now.

"My girls okay?"

Just hearing Bradley's voice made you relax, and you realized Rose was starting to slow down as you turned to look at him in the doorway. "Yeah. I was trying to let you sleep."

He gave you grabby hands, and you noticed he had the Nugget notebook tucked under his arm. "Let me burp her and read a bedtime story so you can go back to sleep."

You knew he had to drop your parents off at the airport in a few hours and then turn around and go right to work, but he wasn't going to be deterred. He took Rose and settled down on the floor with a grunt, kissing her head as she yawned. With the night light shining next to him, he juggled her and opened the notebook, and you stood in the doorway and listened for a few minutes as he read one of his entries to her.

"You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about."

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

Bradley was standing in the living room wearing Rose in her carrier and holding two massive bags filled with gear. "Is this all really necessary?" he asked as you ran around grabbing more stuff.

"Do you think we should drive?" you asked, popping the stroller open and looking at it with concern.

"Sweetheart, the beach is like three blocks away," he replied, trying to keep his tone even.

"The beach with a lot of rocks is like three blocks away," you said, exasperation lacing your voice. "Do you think we should drive up to the better beach?"

In his opinion, all of the beaches in Coronado were going to be the same, as long as the two of you didn't attempt to walk down the cliffs beach with her yet. "I think we should just go to the closest beach for a little bit and then head home again."

You sighed in annoyance. "Just for a little bit? Well then what was the point of packing all of this shit?"

Bradley desperately wanted to scold you for swearing in front of the baby, but he used every fiber of his being to press his lips together and clear his throat. "It's the Nugget's first time at any beach. We're just going to have to see how long she lasts before we need to bring her back."

"Fine," you replied, picking up the bag of sandwiches you packed and heading for the front door. "I just wish I knew why babies required so much stuff. Nothing about this is easy."

He followed in your wake. "I'm pretty sure all the babies of the world got together and plotted against their parents, because all of it is hard." At least that got a smile out of you as you plunked your sunglasses onto your nose, and he followed you out to the porch. "Let's just leave the stoller here. I like carrying her."

It was actually so beautiful outside, Bradley was thankful it was a Saturday. You took his hand in yours, waving at the neighbors along the way. "You look stupid sexy with that baby carrier on, Roo."

"Stupid sexy?" he muttered, adjusting the little sun hat on Rose's head. "Explain."

"I tried," you groaned. "But you don't listen, Bradley. You're a DILF. Even the way you're taking care of Rose is hot. Like you're already handsome, but now you're just oozing so much sex appeal, it's stupid. Like an ovary explosion." You made a sound like a bomb blowing up and gestured with your hands in front of you as you walked.

"Yeah... I don't see it," he murmured, reaching for your hand again. When he looked in the mirror now, he saw more gray hair and quite a few wrinkles, but that didn't stop him from trying to be the best dad he could. "I'm just focused on Rosie. You and Rosie. My girls."

You gave him side eye. "That's what makes it stupid," you muttered. "You know what, it doesn't matter." You kissed Rose's fingers as the entrance to the beach came into view. "Hey, little Nugget," you whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "Welcome to the beach."

The expanse of sand and the glittering water beyond were so bright, Bradley shielded her face, and she burrowed against him. "It's okay, Rosie," he murmured, kissing her hat as he hustled along the mostly empty beach. "Daddy's got you. I'll get you set up with some shade. I like the shade better, too."

It was a joint effort, the way you held the baby while Bradley ran around, setting up a canopy and laying out blankets and towels. "You're stupid sexy, too," he said as you distracted him for about the tenth time. "You know that, right?" You didn't verbally respond, but you did look pleased with yourself as you set Rose down on the beach blanket, fully in the shade. 

"Do you want to take her down to the water?" you asked, looking up at him.

He shot you an incredulous look as he took his shirt off. "Are you out of your mind? The waves are massive! Something could happen to her!"

Now you were doubled over in laughter on the blanket next to her. "It's not like I suggested that you take her surfing, Roo! Just carry her down to the water's edge!"

He was still hesitant. "Okay. But just for a quick look." Bradley scooped up his daughter, who always looked delighted to have him around, and he carried her slowly down the beach until the cool water met his toes. "This is as far as we go," he whispered, kissing her cheek as she closed her eyes. "Until you've had swimming lessons." He felt your hand on his back, and he turned to you and asked, "When can Rosie take swim lessons?"

"Bradley, she's less than a month old."

"That's probably when future olympians start," he mused as you rubbed sunblock all over his back and shoulders. You were standing in front of him now, laughing and swiping the lotion on his nose when an older woman stopped walking along the beach to approach you.

"You have a beautiful family," she said, smiling at Rose who was currently yawning.

"Thank you," Bradley replied, turning a bit so she could get a closer look. When she offered to take a photo of the three of you, he had you reach into the pocket of his cutoff jean shorts and unlock his phone for her.

Bradley looked ridiculous in the picture with windswept hair and streaks of sunblock on his face and shoulders, but you and Rose both made it his new favorite photo. He set it as his phone wallpaper.

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

"Am I doing this right?"

Cam was sitting on your living room couch, holding Rose with a look of sheer panic on his face. 

"No," Maria told him. "You're not. And you look constipated."

You started laughing and didn't even try to hide it. "Just hold her against your chest, and she'll probably fall asleep. She's definitely a snuggler."

He did as he was told, but there was still a firm crease along his forehead. "Babies are terrifying," he muttered, letting you adjust his hands for him.

Bradley was still at work, having agreed to teach another dog fighting drill with Maverick, and you were thankful your friends were keeping you company. It wouldn't be too much longer before you were back at work yourself, where you would be able to see your friends more frequently.

You watched Maria stand and kind of limp into your kitchen. "Does anyone else want a drink?"

"Absolutely not," Cam replied. "I need to keep two hands on the baby at all times."

He got an eye roll in response from you as you told Maria, "Sure, and I also need you to tell me why you're limping. Are you okay?"

A devilish smirk found her lips. "Maybe you should ask Bob about that one."

"Ew," Cam replied. "Unless I'm the one getting plowed by an aviator, I don't need to know any details." When you opened your mouth to say something, he quickly added, "You're just as bad as Maria, so don't even start with me. Just let me be afraid of holding your child in peace."

Then he settled back against the couch with Rose, and you joined Maria in the kitchen. "You're like seriously limping," you whispered, and she snickered.

"It's not what you think. I just can't resist giving Cam a hard time. Bob and I were in the shower together, and I pulled a muscle."

"Maria," you hissed. "You were in the shower with Bob, and you expect me to believe it wasn't sexual?"

"I wasn't," she insisted, getting two glasses of water ready and handing you one. "I just... ever since he got back from his deployment... I really like being around him as much as possible."

You knew how Bob looked at her. Like she was a mermaid. Or a fairy. Something magical and unbelievable. Maria wasn't known to be gushy or sappy, but she talked about him like he hung the moon, and that was all you needed to know.

"I'm happy for you."

She smiled just as you heard Cam gasp and start freaking out. "I think the baby pooped! Cancel that- I know the baby pooped! I need backup!"

By the time Bradley got home from work, you had dinner in the oven, and you were nursing Rose on the couch. Your husband looked exhausted but freshly showered with damp hair, and he made a beeline directly for you. He kissed your forehead and then her tiny fist. 

"You alright, Roo?"

"I had a long day," he whispered. You were a little worried that something happened that made him seem so tired, but he smiled as he said, "But your appointment with Dr. Morris later this week is going to make it all worth it. I can't wait to hear her tell me I'm allowed to fuck my wife."

"You're so horny!" you complained half heartedly as he kissed your cheek before heading into the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven as the timer went off.

"Six weeks is a long time when you've got your tits out all day and all night."

Truthfully, there were times when you were positively aching to be with him like that, but there were moments when you couldn't understand how he still wanted you. Your stretch marks were wild, and you looked so flabby and weird. You had no idea how you'd manage to lose the weight you gained when your whole world revolved around pumping and feeding Rose, and on top of that, you'd be back at work soon and busier than ever.

You heard Bradley's groan of delight from the kitchen as he took a bite of dinner. "This is delicious, but still not as delectable as you, Baby Girl."

Even when your brain told you not to believe him, your heart did.

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

Bradley insisted on accompanying you to your six week checkup with Dr. Morris. He sat in one of the chairs in the exam room with Rose all wrapped up like a burrito in his arms, careful not to get her perfect face too close to his hard insignia pins. He watched as you got a pelvic exam, and then the doctor pushed on your belly while you made a face of discomfort. He held Rose a little tighter when you tried to smile at him.

"Everything feels and looks good. You can head back to work next week," Dr. Morris said as she removed her latex gloves. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Bradley listened to you rattle off several questions which rolled into a fresh conversation with your doctor. He really didn't want to be the one to ask about intercourse, but now you were sort of smirking at him. Okay, you were treating this like a game, toying with him. He was absolutely down for that, and it wasn't like he hadn't completely embarrassed himself in front of your physician before.

"If neither of you have any other questions, you're free to go-"

"Actually, Dr. Morris, I do have one last question." He cleared his throat and stood with Rose while you started to get dressed, trying to hide your smile from him. "I'd really like to have sex with my wife as soon as possible. Is that six weeks postpartum rule hard-and-fast, or would tonight be suitable for that kind of thing?"

You were hiding your smile behind your hand, but he could tell you were laughing as Dr. Morris humored him. "Well, the guidelines say six weeks, so I would absolutely stick to that. We like to make sure proper healing has occurred. If you don't start taking oral contraceptives right away, I would definitely advise you to use condoms." She glanced at your chart and added, "Two more days probably won't kill anyone, and at that point, you'll be at six weeks."

"Speak for yourself," he grunted, slipping Rose back into her car seat carrier. "Thanks, doc."

"Two more days," you told him as the three of you walked out to the red Bronco. "You're doing great, Daddy."

Bradley groaned as he buckled both of you in, and he pulled out of the parking lot without another word.

You shouldn't have been surprised, but you definitely were when, two nights later, his phone alarm started blaring at one in the morning. You were just settling back in bed after feeding Rose when you looked at him with wide eyes. "Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"

Bradley simply held up his phone screen for you to see the alarm which was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum.

You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. "It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."

His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"

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Let this man fuck! Let him fuck his wife! He earned it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

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[hpacearofest]

HP Ace Aro Fest - 2025

It is official, we are back for the second year running! Our amazing fest was created to highlight any character who you see as asexual, aromantic, or anywhere on those spectrums.  Any era, any age, anyone.  Give me your QPRs, your sex-repulsed lovey-doveys, your hypersexual aromantics, and everything else you got.  As long as you give me a main character from the HP fandom who is a-spec, your work has a home with this fest.  Accepting fic, fanart, podfics, any medium your heart desires to give us.

Stay tuned and keep your eyes peeled starting in May, claiming will be opening on Aromantic Visibility Day!!

Important dates

Announce: April 18

Prompting: May 1 - June 5

Claiming:  June 6 - July 30

Posting to start around: August 10

Guidelines

All content is allowed, no restrictions on what can be submitted so long as it is thoroughly tagged and doesn't violate tumblr or AO3 TOS.  Mods will have final approval on whether or not a work is sufficiently tagged in regards to potentially triggering matters in works rated M or above.

Etiquette

The goal of this fest is to celebrate and highlight the joys (and some of the stresses) of the lives of the HP-verse characters who fall into the a- sexual and romantic spectrums.  

There will be no ship or character bashing (even if it’s a fandom-wide hated character, please just avoid including a character/ship if you do not like them).

SALS - Ship And Let Ship.

YKINMKBYKIOK - Your Kink Is Not My Kink But Your Kink Is Okay.  Yes, this fest is about a-spec relationships. Yes, that means they can still be kinky as can be.  No, that does not mean you can shame others for what they want to create so long as it is duly tagged.

Each person has unique lived experiences within and and without the LGBTQIA+ community.  Just because you don’t see yourself in how someone is portraying something, doesn’t make them wrong for it.

This event and blog are created on the following 4 founding ideas. If your values do not align with these core principles, this event is likely not for you:

1. Trans Rights are Human Rights 2. Free Palestine and Free Congo and Free Sudan or else no one is free 3. All Nazi's deserve to be punched 4. FUCK JKR

Written fic

Written fic should preferably be longer than 500 words

There is no maximum word count

Must be a completed work, no on-going series to be completed after the fest

Works must be stand-alone (can be part of a collection but one must be able to read it without reading previous parts)

Using a beta is strongly encouraged but not required (if you would like help finding one, feel free to join the fest discord server to find them)

Art work

Work must be exclusive to this fest

Digital and physical art are both allowed as long as scans/photos of the physical are clear

Podfic work

Please provide proof of permission from the creator (unless it is yourself) which includes a screenshot of a blanket permission statement on their profile as long as the username matches 

Selected work must fit the theme of the fest as well as the 500 word minimum for written fics

Make sure you upload it with the author’s original tags as well as the fest tags and podfic notation

Submission

All works must be uploaded to the AO3 collection by the deadline of July 30 (around 1 week before posting  pending any extensions granted)

Add acearofest account as co-author so mods can just double check for correctly tagged content and posting as well as a final once over of the SPaG/formatting

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

✨The Heart Of The Blade✨

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓈 & 𝐻𝒶𝑔𝓈

➹pairing: Wyll x Auntie Ethel rare pair by @aristenfromwarsaw so this one is totally for you 😄😁 "No Wylls were harmed in the writing of this fic" ➹content/tags: Love, Poetry, Fun, Humor, Sarcasm, so much Party Banters and Bashings, Action, Poetry, Misunderstandings ➹summary: Wyll has a new girlfriend with his heart singing love songs and sonnets, but his friends are not happy about it and doing an intervention. A fanfic full of the funniest party banters. Fan of the group bickering on each other? THIS IS IT! Astarion in full Asstarion mode. ACT I timeline ➹feat. Tav Aristen belongs to @aristenfromwarsaw , my Tav Saulus ➹word count: 18, 345➹ao3 ➹prompt: BG32025 APRIL by @tavyliasin

Something was wrong with Wyll.

The group agreed on this.

For days he had been acting somehow strange, not as they knew him. He seemed to hang with his head in the clouds, almost as if dreaming. Furthermore, he often disappeared for hours with flimsy excuses.

Something was wrong with him, only what it was exactly, the strange travel companions could not yet make out.

"And I'm telling you, it's another alien parasite! So, we'll cut his head open and out with it before it infects us all," Lae'zel hissed vehemently.

"It's not and we don't cut anyone up. So put the knife away, Lae'zel," Gale admonished the Githyanki as she grumbled.

"It's pretty obvious that he's in love. You don't have to be a genius to come up with it. But no wonder none of you recognize the signs," Astarion explained, accompanied by a smooth expression on his face that said it was stupid not to recognize this immediately.

"Chk. Because you're such an expert when it comes to love," the warrior of K'liir scoffed ironically, rolling her eyes a little at the smug vampire, who had the audacity to portray the rest of the group as stupid.

"Oh yes, I am," he breathed in his sonorous voice.

"Astarion, I didn't mean love in the physical sense," Lae'zel pulled a contemptuous face in his direction.

"Oooh... well, then...", the white-haired elf shrugged his shoulders in surprise.

She would have loved to show him how she normally reacted to insolence, but she could already see Gale's raised index finger mentally in front of her. And so she would have to break two fingers, not that she would mind.

But as a good Githyanki, she needed neither her muscles nor her sword, and her tongue silenced opponents. Or allies. Or something like allies. The white-haired elf was a questionable companion.

But he probably thought the same about her.

All about her.

"After all, a better suggestion than looking for parasites in his brain just because he sometimes wants time for himself and sighs dreamily," Shadowheart chimed in appropriately and wrinkled her nose contemptuously without looking at Lae'zel, "don't get me wrong, if he turns out to be a danger, then we can still do this slicing thing and I don't think there's time for dreamy sighing, because we have more important things to do. So we should talk to him about the fact that we lack his sword if he gets distracted."

Karlach's voice sounded almost gentle, which seemed like an incarnate intervention of positivity in the pack of accusations and wild theories: "Guys, he's been through a lot lately. The stupid bitch Mizora who figuratively put horns on him..."

"Literally."

"What?!"

"You mean literally not, figuratively speaking, put on horns. Since he really got horns and not the proverbial horns like a horned husband, for example," it was the Wizard of Waterdeep who interrupted the infernal warrior for a short lesson.

"Anyway...", Karlach continued and her blazing eyes gave Gale for a moment an expression that could have ignited him, "...a lot has changed for Wyll and he has to deal with a lot. It's normal that he's acting a bit off and needs time for himself. Give him the time. We won't grow tentacles tomorrow or a goblin will split our heads because of that. I'm here!"

"Why not curious at all, Karlach? Do I hear some disappointment that you are not the beloved, to whom our folk hero sneaks away?" the vampire grinned venomously like a snake into her world.

"Haha, very funny, fangs. What's that supposed to do?!"

"So, what's the plan now?", Lae'zel's dagger flashed in the middle of the group, ready for action and blood, "do we kill him now or...?" "No, we're not going to kill him!" Gale exclaimed vehemently. "Not yet...", Astarion grinned smugly with a sly sideways glance.

Gale's brown beard was rubbed briefly in a displacement activity of his hand's thoughtfulness, as if they could whisper a solution to him: "But otherwise, Shadowheart does have a point..."

"Of course I do."

"We can just talk to him. Calmly, of course, and ask if something is bothering him, or if there is actually someone who is distracting him from our urgent current mission, as a change in his usual pattern of behavior has not gone unnoticed by us. And that without knives and sharp-tongued comments, as we have already noticed."

"If we want to ask him if he has a lover who keeps him from his sword-wielding task - at least his sword-wracking task to help us - and I can guarantee you that it is because a blind man can recognize this from a spectator petrified; then this should certainly not be the single wizard with a cat who has been left behind and who mentions his ex in every second sentence."

"She's not a cat!"

Could her teeth, which pressed on her lower lip, suppress her giggles? Aristen very much hoped so. The blonde elf - storm sorceress as her mark - knew it wasn't appropriate to laugh at the elf's nasty side blow, but unfortunately it was funny. Because he was so astute.

If it really was a crush that drew Wyll away from them, then he would probably take at least one piece of advice from Gale. His success rate did not draw a good balance, at least from what they had heard. And they had only heard Mystra all the time.

"We will certainly find someone whom Wyll confides in. In the end, we can only ask him. After all, it's his business and he doesn't owe us an explanation," the blonde elf interjected to swallow a laugh and possibly saved Astarion from a fireball from Gale.

"Honestly, fangs. When it comes to honest and upright feelings, you only know as well as..."

„… how far it is described in a cheap three-copper novel," Shadowheart finished Karlach's thoughts and managed to sound snippy and disinterested at the same time.

"Do I sense jealousy in your voice, Karlach? Because I don't spend time with it unnecessarily things, but can take care of the real fun?"

The barbarian's hands were a little to slow, as they reached for Astarion's collar, Karlach's clenched fist pointed menacingly in his direction. Blazing. Burning. "Hey you little..."

"Oh and not to forget to put on the list: No one with a short exploding temper should talk to him," Astarion added coquettishly as he ducked away from Karlach, just for Shadowheart standing in front of him in a second.

"I will talk to him!"

If someone needed to be inquisitioned, she was the right person for the job. She would definitely get Wyll talking.

"Maybe we'll let someone talk to him who is more…sensitively, gently and understandingly on the subject of love, Shadowheart," Saulus the Tiefling Bard smiled in her direction, who had seen the questionable enthusiasm of the Sharan flash in her eyes. "Hmm, I am gentle and understanding," the cleric grumbled and grimaced. "May I suggest something?", it was once again Astarion's voice that wafted playfully through the group like a symphony and that probably only he himself never got tired of hearing. At least this thought pierced the ponytailed head of the black-haired woman when the theatrical pitch sounded again and it must have happened to several of them, after all his pointed, mocking comments of the day.

And all this before noon!

"How about our little bard and very own sorceress?"

 "I don't know, Astarion. Shouldn't Wyll come to us voluntarily with it? I mean, I can ask him if you want to, but that's really none of our business. It's not as if he's putting anyone in danger," Aristen answered him slightly uncertainly, and her choice of words and tone of voice harbored a lot of diplomacy and restraint.

"Of course you just ask. And believe me, the business of our Blade couldn't be less of my interest. But if he's the one who makes such a big secret of it, then he's forcing us as a tight-knit group to find out what's going on with our companion, isn't he? You and Saulus simply listen to him and randomly lead him in the right direction. Come on, you are exactly the right ones for the job."

Seductive like a bottle of sparkling wine by candlelight and the sing song of a succubus, the vampire's arms wrapped around the shoulders of Aristen and Saulus, the lips of the pale elf in the middle of the two women played around his fangs with an encouraging smile that should convince them of his proposal.

"You two are good team. Do the rest of our formidable group agree with me, that this is a task for our two lasses, here? I mean they are a good combo, aren't they?"

"Chk, I'm fine. It can't get worse than the wizard or the cleric."

"While I pull the proverbial dagger out of my back Lae'zel – and put the real one away once and for all, we won't need it – I'm happy to leave this task in the empathetic hands of two ladies."

"I didn't know we needed to be a lady for this, but okay. Fine, let our little soldiers do this. And how did you imagine the non-committal squeezing, star?"

Silver curls swayed a little back and forth between the bard and the sorceress, while his ruby eyes sparkled at the two of them and behind his grin Gods knows what happened.

"Astarion?" Saulus repeated his name instead of an answer from his tongue between his pointed fangs. "Pardon me, I was distracted for a hot second," shook the elf's white head, anointed with moon colors in stars, and tore his hunter's gaze away from the two women.

"How about this...", and again the companions put their heads together as if they were a group of conspirators and possibly, they were.

Conspirators against Wyll?

Conspirators against love? It was yet to become apparent.

Maybe Ravengard just had a stomachache – which Karlach objected again and received an exaggerated disapproving shake of the head.

Perhaps a little gossip was much more interesting for some than they gave it. No matter how the sensitivities of the new travel companions were, secrets and gossip, suddenly made it much more exciting and desirable to find out something about it.

….

"I'm sorry that our promised sword lesson is only taking place now. Somehow I've found my mind very busy lately," Wyll Ravengard's tone alone would have been enough to apologize for everything, no matter what he had said about it. The sincere, gentle gaze of his eyes—as unequal as they might be—made any resistance impossible. Resistance was futile.

"Since I've had those devilish horns on my head, I needed some time to myself and didn't want to scare the Tieflings and children in the grove with them."

"Wyll," as dew slid down from a leaf in the morning hour, a soothing smile rolled over the lips of Saulus the Tiefling Bard, "they have all the horns themselves. None of them should be shocked. You're no less of a hero for them, I'm sure."

"It's nice that at least one of us can be sure about this" The sigh from the lip, the throat of the Blade of Frontiers, came deep from his chest, where his heart and his sorrow sat. But despite all the grief, his shoulders and the horns on his head didn't seem so heavy and somehow... light. At least from the outside.

"And if you need time for yourself to get used to it, then that's absolutely fine, Wyll. No one can expect you to welcome Mizora's punishment with open arms. After all, you have always endured all of this very patiently," Aristen said appreciatively.

"Thank you! And my I add, it is nice that we have you joining us. A pleasant surprise. I thought you were more focused on your magic and less interested in the use of weapons."

"I thought it couldn't hurt to watch you and learn something in the process. You never know when the magic will be blocked and you'll be left with nothing but a blade," the words of Aristen the storm sorceress turned as truthfully as the thorn tendrils around the Emerald Grove itself, "furthermore, you are the best person to contact when it comes to combining powerful spells and weapons."

"Well, you won't have to stop at just watching. When I see how extremely good you are with the knife when you help our Gale cook, then you definitely have hidden talents for the sharp blades," Wyll smiled charmingly and each of his two eyes had its own special shine.

"I also focus more on my hand crossbows, but it can't hurt to deepen the handling of the rapier and longsword. And we've seen you so little in the last few days...", furtively like a thief in the night, her flaming tiefling eyes flitted briefly over to the blue of the blonde high elf, "... maybe we can talk a little afterwards. Especially about the things that occupy you as much as you said earlier..."

…

There they are!

Blowing bugles, drums, shaking gates breaks the silence

Chaos breaks loose through tumult - startled crowd running through each other.

This would have been the equivalent of Aristen coming back to the camp and the traveling companions literally rushing towards her, only less violent. This was replaced with much more curiosity.

"She's back!"

"And? What did you find out?"

"He really seems to have grown fond of someone," Aristen answered calmly in the face of the storm of questioning that descended on her, although the pressing voices flowed over her like a roaring wave of the sea.

"Yes, darling, I already know that. Who, who is it? Does he have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? Or," Astarion smiled pointedly and the elf face was a mirror for malice and misfortune, as if he were not a bearer of old elven blood, but of old gods' blood and the reincarnation of the god of mischief, list and evil, "a very grotesque something? Oh, that would be wonderful!"

"He didn't say who it was and whether we knew the person." A twitch of narrow shoulders under blond hair, however, stopped his malicious giggles and visibly darkened his face, at least the two red rubies of his eyes wore dark shadows. The porcelain smile and face quickly wore its usual masquerade again.

"So I know just as much as before," the sigh from Astarion's throat was ready for the stage, as was the hand movement he shook out of his wrist, not to mention the rolling of his eyes.

"You are welcome to ask him yourself if you think he will tell you more," Aristen suggested to him honestly and completely calmly. It was obvious that the other elf didn't seem to respond to his theatricality, which didn't stop Astarion from teasing her any further. But he may not have teased at all. Possibly he answered perfectly normally, but his way of emphasizing things made it difficult to interpret them completely objectively.

"No offense, I just thought you'd be more useful, darling."

"In any case," the blonde seemed to overlook his tone and the content that rolled over his tongue, because like a lie that glided over a blade, you never knew what was meant seriously and what wasn't, "Saulus stayed with him and they wanted to write a little poetry for his crush. I thought it would be best that I leave her alone with him. Maybe he will become more talkative."

…

"I don't think she's the kind of person you can impress with poems and songs," Wyll smiled bashfully and scratched his head, a clearly skipping action, he was nervous to talk to someone about his love and apparently relieved at the same time to be able to share it with someone, "but I would like it so much. Simply because my heart and my head don't stop singing when I think of them."

Embarrassed frustration slipped from his throat and the young Ravengard heir shook his heavier head vehemently and buried his face in his hands, which had already had to bear so much responsibility. In truth, they only wanted to write tender words of love.

"Argh! This may all sound so terribly cheesy to you. I'll make a fool of myself."

"A fool is one who is ashamed of his feelings and hides them. So far, they have only ever been your strength, so let them be the difficulty you lead, the armor that strengthens you and the shield at your side. That's why no one can resist serious poetic words, Wyll. No matter how good or how bad, it's all about sincerity," Saulus had spread her lyre and writing paper in front of her and the Warlock. Her words were a testament to her sincerity and possibly also to digression, distraction and short attention span, because she was no longer really interested in eliciting the secret, but she really wanted to write something with Wyll that he could recite to his beloved.

"At the court of Baldur's Gate, my father actually only ever upheld the practical knightly virtues: Justice, insight, strategy and courage. Before and after the introduction to society at court, it was always the most important concern of my father that I get along on my own and know how to behave in difficult situations with reason and above all with the sword. Although I know exactly which cutlery has to be in which place and which dance steps are performed, so as not to bring the Ravengard name into disrepute at a reception and ball, this was certainly less my father's attention than that of the chamberlain, who seemed to have his dear trouble with us."

Bringing the name Ravengard into disrepute.

The expression on Wyll's face, that slowly found its way on it, like a veil in the wind on a gray, rainy morning, was unmistakable. Even less so was the sparkle it stole from his eyes and replaced with something else.

But like a helping hand, The Blade tore himself out of the thoughts of gloom and continued with a returning smile and the soft sound of his voice close to a poem itself: "Nevertheless, the service of high courtly love is also part of the artistry of a knight and should not be neglected. Even if not, I was happy to dedicate myself to it. As a child, I read books that made me dream of adventures. Later stole books from the adults in which they did not let me stick my nose. Until you could read romance novels as you wanted as a really mature young man. Although I don't know if my reading of poetry books has made me a good poet. But I think it's a beautiful art and I would like to express my feelings in words that are more beautiful than just the common language. Because it's like making a picture, singing a song and an expression of liveliness. Impulsive passion and zeal, not only in the heated fight with the sword and sweating bodies."

A mischievous and slightly embarrassed laugh slipped over Wyll's lips, as if he had something to apologize for. Perhaps this was his secret guilty pleasure. In Keeping Secrets, however, Wyll was only semi-good. At least his own. He kept a lot to himself, like the thing with the son of the current Duke of Baldur's Gate and being a Warlock and hunting Karlach because of it, but it didn't take much convincing to get him to spill the tea. The Warlock with his hellish Mistress was quite a wild card because of her. But probably no more than the rest of the group.

"If you tell me what they look like, I can help you find timed rhymes for a sonnet on it."

If Saulus hadn't been so good at such a thing, you would probably have seen the tension at the tip of the horns and its flickering flames in her eyes. Even if she had to refrain from biting her lower lip, because of how much Wyll blocked off revealing any details so far. He shut off.

Tight as a safe.

Astarion might have been the better choice for the job after all, it pierced the bard's thoughts.

Aristen and she had not learned from him what she looked like, nor her name, nor whether they had seen the lady before. But at least they knew that it was a lady and that there was a lady. To destroy Lae'zel's theory of another parasite.

"The appearance is not important. In no respect. It is not the eye that makes me feel secure and close. For her, too, the pure appearance is a superficiality without meaning and she does not attach any importance to its praises. She's not like our Astarion."

It now took a little more self-control and a sharp tooth on her tongue to prevent the disappointment from entering Saulus’ face from chin to the tip of the horn after Wyll's actually so beautiful execution. Then he could look at her as gently as he wanted, for the bard it meant another failure.

Saulus knew that if she continued to dwell on the subject, she would lose credibility. Consequently, she had to leave it at that for the time being.

Astarion might have stopped his "I'm not really interested" casual scam and started shaking and yelling at Wyll, while Lae'zel shone the brightest lantern in his face and didn't stop hissing questions. Pretty hot and bright, isn't it? Are you thirsty? Yes? There's nothing until you spit out what we want to hear! She didn't even want to start acquiring answers from Shadowheart's methods.

Aware of this, Saulus realized that it could have been far worse than their failed attempts. A quite mild relief that nestled around her mind and heart during this realization.

"What have you already written so far? You meant that you had already started a little," Saulus took up the topic again and dissipated espionage thoughts from her head, but rather got involved with the heart's often the Blade of Frontiers.

Another embarrassed smile with a red glow on his cheeks followed from Wyll, which could not have been more endearing and charming as he stroked the back of his head in embarrassment. He seemed at least as insecure as he was excited to communicate, she recognized that in his eyes. Or the one eye that really belonged to him.

The Warlock was rarely known like this. Ravengard wore his heart on his sleeve. He was always honest and shared his thoughts openly. The only thing he did was that he packaged negative thoughts more benevolently and diplomatically, because he was rhetorically adept.

At least as skillful and proficient as with the sword.

Did he get this from his father or did he have himself to thank?

It was at least not surprising that Wyll could easily win over a woman. Saulus didn't understand why it wasn't easy for him to continue the behavior that had brought him there. But as mischievous as he sat in front of her—more the young nobility who stole and read dreamy books than a fearsome warrior—it was probably his heart and what it did to his mind and his tongue as soon as the chemistry in it began to go crazy.

A tadpole wiggling around in that area was for sure not helpful.

But wait! Who knows, maybe it was. A mindflayer wouldn't have such problems. Butterflies in the stomach. And the madness of love in the brain.

Love sickness.

No doctor could help.

Did it help to call a bard?

Certainly not!

Saulus literally heard the nagging voice of the pale Astarion in her head mocking her.

Imagination or was the worm and thus really Astarion wiggling around in her skull and making fun of her?

"Not so much. Or at least I don't know if it's good," Wyll's voice sounded uncertainly and made the bard focus again, snapping her out of her thoughts, "but that's what I really feel."

"And that's good enough and all that matters." "You say. What if she doesn't like it?" "I thought she didn't care about superficialities? And she likes you. So she likes everything you present to her. Little secret: The gesture counts. So let's hear, Ravengard, Blade of Sonnets!"

"Wherever I look, only vanity and sorrow, but the sight of you struck me with force, it struck me down like lightning, directly into my heart", the breast of its sign swelled with pride or is it much more love? This at least made his whole face and eyes, whether stone or not, shine as Wyll loudly recited the poetic words of his heart. "And: Flowers, meadows, fields, trees remind me of you even.

But I don't really know about the middle part and the end. And I should probably still rhyme it correctly, shouldn't I?", words of true doubt or did the Ravengard son hide his light under a bushel without realizing it? Because the bard smiled enthusiastically at him.

"Wyll, that's just right! Everyone wants to hear something so beautiful," the young Warlock exhaled relief at this statement of the bard and joy conjured it up on his lips. Wyll Ravengard was someone who, when he smiled, he smiled with his whole face and yet he seemed so harmonious and calming. In principle, he was in good contrast to the Tiefling bard who was generally there for every prank without asking for long, simply because "YES and OKAY" was more part of her vocabulary than "NO". But even the reason and calmness of one Ravengard had its limits of competence. Apparently, he reached his limits with Tieflings.

So this moment together with parchment and quill was a special one.

And a particularly beautiful one, as Wyll found.

To find beauty even in the storm, in the dangers and the approaching death and catastrophe of its impending ceremorphosis, was an endeavor of his. It was not for nothing that swamp flowers grew. You just had to look.

HEY!

A snap of the Warlock's fingers tore him out of his thoughts, to tell the bard to write them down, and soon the parchment filled with the outpourings of thoughts of Wyll Ravengard. It was an interesting feeling to see her quill swinging through the air in front of him, the tip scraping across the sheet as his words were written down. His words significant enough to be written down. From someone other than himself.

Wyll couldn't help but smile at the sight of his thoughts turning into written words.

He had tried poetry before and to be honest he would like to perform it. Only the opportunity since he had become the Blade of Frontiers was rather small. But perhaps his speech to the Tiefling children was also a kind of poetry to stir up courage and encouragement.

What was a war speech, a battle cry to motivate men before the fight, but poetry? A bloody sonnet of slaughter and glorious honour and victory, if you had calculated correctly and had enough brave, strong men at your side.

But Wyll didn't want to talk about battles and the fight, didn't want to think of it now, and certainly didn't want to write about fights. It was this irrepressible feeling of warmth, security and happiness that he felt. A feeling that took his breath away, robbed him of his senses, made him dizzy, turned his head. He could not equate it with anything but love.

"How about we bring in a little bit of all the changes you've been through. From the son of a duke, to the Blade, to Warlock looking like the devil he serves because he has refused their orders. You've been through a lot lately. That would leave a bigger mark on most people. In the sense of exhaustion. You, on the other hand, grow with every failure and obstacle without calling a heart of bitterness your own. That's remarkable, Wyll."

"Thank you. It means a lot to me that you say this and see it that way. But too much of an honor. I only act according to what I think is right and feel. Everyone has a moment of sadness and weakness. You can indulge in it, but only for a moment. One evening, perhaps. But not anymore. After that, you have to go ahead again and look up. Open your eyes to what you have and what is there. Otherwise, you miss the beautiful moments, otherwise you miss out on what good you can do, otherwise I would have... missed her." Dreamily, the words rolled from his lips, dreamily all his thoughts and his gaze veiled at the memory of her closeness. Attentive Tiefling eyes could observe this more than well and pondered about his words and especially about how he had spoken the words and then suggested: "How about something like this: The honour of heroic deeds must pass away like a fever dream. Can anyone then survive the game of time? What is all this that we consider delicious? What is it worth?"

Horns and poetic minds continued to stick together for a long time, while the quill continued to dance over the parchment, leaving its trail of ink.

…

"Now spit it out: Who is Wyll dating? Why is he so windy? Does he want to get married and leave the group and we finally stop dragging his useless butt with us like the last few days?", the Inquisition, led by Astarion, pulled the bard aside after her return to the camp.

"Don't make a fool of yourself, fangs. Wyll does not leave the group. He wouldn't just let us down."

"Karlach, we know how much you shy away from the truth from your affection for him, but let go of disillusionment and wake up! Only bare facts help here and if Wyll is not a helpful member of this group, then he is just ballast. Regardless of its entertaining other beautiful sides. And I don't mean that bad at all, Karlach. Then you don't have to waste your time anymore and I would not like to see a tall, cheerful and above all strong girl like you, unwillingly troubled", the way the elf leaned towards the fiery barbarian was a theatrical farce, but whose intention could be at least as true as exaggerated, because he sounded too eager for a lie, "I'll get you someone better. Someone hotter – literally if you want. That blacksmith boy! Yes?! What was his name? Dammon? I'll get him for you. Do you want him?"

Aristen, as an almost unanimous reflection of the other companions, drew a face that clearly said: Astarion, no!

Even if there was a suppressed crooked smirk about his crazy nature underneath and no shocking head-shaking of a Gale or epic eye rolling of a Lae'zel. "Soldier, that's really nice of you – at least I think so – but no thanks. It's not about that. When will it finally go into your curly head? Have you forgotten: No touchy. So all I do and care about is my friends like in my F R I E N D S. And would crush everyone's skull coming near them. Their heart and hurting it, counts as well to it. That's why. So get it into your cloudy head, paley. Counts for you as well if you ever get a heavy heart."

"Well, he is probably more than safe from that. By the black lump of stone, filled with iridescent hot air, what he has instead of a heart", Shadowheart's voice a testament of teasing malice disguised under casualness.

"Tze," the elf hissed only halfway over and almost made a grimace in her direction before his nose stretched almost higher than his forehead in the other direction with his arms crossed.

Gale, meanwhile, blinked in disbelief and wondered where he had taken a wrong turn in life to deserve all of this. Sure, he had done a lot wrong, extremely wrong, and he knew exactly what and when. But this...he really didn't deserve that either. He couldn't even sigh anymore about the behavior of his companions. Would he ever have met such people in Waterdeep?

Lae'zel's eyes would eventually get stuck in the back of her head because of all the roles, even if it amused her a little despite her arrogant, annoyed demeanor. Outdoing the others with her wordplay was as much a victory as doing it with their sword, and another victory for the Githyanki race. Clearly superior Githyanki race.

"Did Wyll tell you who he was meeting with?" asked the calm, soft voice of Aristen and glided through the group as if she were the only one with the last bit of logical sense. Not that she thought so, but any outsider would have assessed it that way at that moment. Because Gale seemed to have given up somewhere along the way or was too busy with Mystra or eating magic boots.

Pardon, consuming magical weave.

"Unfortunately, not," the groans of the group slid almost like a tidal wave of disappointment towards the mainland named Saulus, "and I strongly doubt that his brand-new flame is someone we don't know. After all, we've been together all the time since the crash."

"And again, I don't hear anything that is not clear to me from the beginning. So, you were completely useless, to be exact," no one else but Astarion could have said it so bluntly.

"Hey!", she couldn't think of a better defense on the clear insult of the vampire and if you were honest, it wasn't even a defense, but a lot of surprise that was written all over her face. Was it a verbal sneak attack or more totally front? At least it stung.

"No wonder that he didn't trust you any more than he did with Aristen, after all, you haven't been a cornucopia of love ballads so far, but your display of songs is full of mockery songs, drink songs, dirty limericks and questionable renditions of our experiences."

"HEY!" the Tiefling Bard exclaimed, disarmed, her arms outstretched. But angry and offended, her gaze seemed only for a second. The muzzle she pulled with her mouth under her big eyes made her look much more like a sad fawn, or like a small sad baby goat, if you looked at the nature of her rune horns.

"Yeah, nothing against your songs, darling. If you ignore the fact that you had to mention that I got stuck in a spider's web, Wyll and I emerged like real heroes in the fight against the phase spider. Not that I'm even remotely interested in such a thing. Just as little as in Wyll's talk and if it didn't seem much too exhausting to me, then I would take care of it myself, because apparently you have to do it again yourself if it is to work. As always. Because the rest of you are useless, no offense."

Gale was seriously considering activating the orb right now. Then he wouldn't have to endure all this anymore, it would almost be worth the sacrifice. Lae'zel and Shadowheart sparkled down on the elf and it would have driven them crazy how similar they looked. His theatrical hand gesture and raised chin, however, was followed only by himself, because Saulus had turned her Tiefling eyes to the blonde High elf and only shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head:

"Does he think we just sat around and painted each other's nails?"

"I don't know. But sitting around and only taking care of the nails, that's what he knows best," Aristen answered her in an equally calm tone, but her blue eyes couldn't avoid a mischievous sideways glance at Astarion at the clear verbal elbow smack. "HA! Not bad! You filthy, thorny rose," the sneaky, sharp rogue laughed deliciously amused and then looked at his nails definitely delighted and not offended, "thank you for noticing my well-groomed nails. Care requires work. It's nice if it doesn't go down and is rewarded"

"How about we let Saulus finish talking, maybe there would be a few interesting novelties when writing poetry with Wyll," suggested the sorceress with the blond hair and the blue elf eyes.

"Yes, that's what I wanted to say. Definitely more meaningful than listening to useless vampire ramblings," Lae'zel interjected, arms crossed, her eyes hard and rigid, but close to rolling again.

"I don't like to agree with Lae'zel, so I agree with Aristen," Shadowheart coquettishly gave her voice before Gale also said nodding or probably more digressed again: "Just like our new acquaintance Raphael would say: The devil is in the details. A good poem cannot be written in general. This should be done least of all through love. Thus, in the end, Wyll may have revealed details that could lead us to a conclusion as to which person it could be."

"Gale, didn't we want to let our bard darling Saulus talk?" Astarion reminded him after his two rubies had rolled around in his head.

"I don't want to know who he's meeting with, but I know when he'll meet someone tomorrow," Saulus continued emphatically in Astarion's direction, whose curious nose she could have given this information long ago, if he hadn't constantly interrupted her by insulting comments and putting her down how useless she was.

…

After Lae'zel had reminded them again that there were more important things and that their group could do very well without Wyll (and without Shadowheart), they stocked up on supplies after a fight with a few gnolls and tried to find new clues to the whereabouts and the way to the Githyanki crèche in the Grove. Time was pressing, the warrior said outside her world, protector in a prism or not. There was no guarantee of how long this stasis of non-transformation would last. Furthermore, she would have to learn more about the artifact and its inhabitants. But there was usually not much time to think, because as soon as they were on the road, one unplanned event after the other took place. A butterfly effect like a whole swarm. No moths. Or more like a whole giant moth.

"Where's Wyll?", Dammon's – to his chagrin makeshift forge – lured them with new sharpened steel, the repair of their armor and a short update where they should look for infernal iron, and Aristen's blue eyes couldn't see Wyll anywhere far and wide, even before he had started to talk to Karlach about iron again.

"Hang around over at Auntie's again, maybe he needs another healing potion," Shadowheart just shrugged her shoulders and had way bigger eyes for a light chain mail.

The bard's ears literally flashed crackling to the tip and Saulus followed the elven eyes of Aristen, but unlike her, she watched Wyll meticulously buying healing potions.

The heritarian Avernian flames blazed in her eyes as they wandered back and forth between Ethel and the Blade, back and forth... slowly back and forth during their conversation.

They narrowed into slits before the bard tore them open and exclaimed:

"Oh my gods, Wyll likes Auntie Ethel!"

"He doesn't!"

"Yes!"

"Don't talk nonsense."

Astarion leaned back to have a look at the whole thing and after a second of observation, he casually stated: "Oh yes, he does."

Shadowheart had dropped her chainmail. Just like all the attention gradually went in the direction next to Okta's cooking pot to Auntie Ethel's "Lotions & Potions" booth.

"You're right," the Shar disciple nodded after observing Wyll's gestures a little.

"A bold choice," Gale murmured not only into his proverbial beard before clearing his throat to speak up, "how can you judge that by watching them from a distance for a few seconds? That lacks any logic."

"Oh Gale, poor, sad, cold bedded Gale – that you don't see that doesn't surprise me in the least," neither Astarion's hedonistic facial expression paired with feigned pity, nor his stage-like use of his vocal cords with timed emphasis would have been needed to know that the white-haired elf was speaking.

"I'm sorry to have to agree with Astarion, Gale. Shouldn't you be familiar with the fact that there are non-verbal signs of affection that simple minds can't hide," the dark cleric explained to him and Gale grimaced a bit and was about to interject that Shadowheart herself would probably not be better at hiding her affection from others and should stop throwing stones from the high horse. Along with the vampire. Who sat on a whole parade of horses. But a parade of pirates and criminal vagabonds.

"You're right, you can clearly see that he's flirting with her," Saulus interrupted the pompous pictures of comparisons the Wizard wanted to make and so he could only answer to her:

"Saulus, you also believed that when the Zhentarim offered a drink after the rescue out of polite phrases, he was flirting with you."

Shrugging shoulders and a loud "Tze", Gale got the answer, "pff, prove me wrong!"

"Apparently, the old thrush really has more than we thought," Astarion grinned in Ethel's direction and filigree fingers rubbed over his pointy chin, only with difficulty did his grinning lips cover his sharp fangs, "I wouldn't have expected that. Each his own taste of course. But I didn’t expect this taste from him. But who can blame him? I mean years of experience has the fun and dexterity to offer." A twinkle in his sparkling eyes and a clear wave of his hand over his own body made it clear to everyone that he was talking about his own high vampiric age.

"Astarion, stop trying to make this about yourself and shut up," Lae'zel intervened from the background in a firm voice. Calm as always, but with a firmness that she would make him do so if he didn't follow her "suggestion".

"Maybe he's just polite and nice to her. You know what Wyll is like," Aristen interjected, and Karlach's one-and-a-half-horned head nodded in agreement.

"I know that some of us were against the plan to follow Wyll on his date, but now we definitely have to. We know when it is and also roughly where, so all we have to do later is go after him and then we'll know for sure!" the vampire decided.

Democracy was not dead.

Because now everyone wanted to know if it was true, even if it was only to win a bet on who was right or not.

…

"Wherever I look, only vanity and sorrow,but the sight of you struck me with force,it struck me down like lightning,right into my heart.

From noble blood, to outcast by fate's cruel game,

but the pact I made under the night's stars is my burden and nothing else to blame. The Duke's son fell, yet rose with hellish fire,But in your eyes, I found a new desire.

Yet love ignites what hell could never claim,And lights a new path what was once full of blades and scars.Though horns may sprout and shadow veil my face, the sweet name of love upon my tongue arose.

The honour of heroic deeds must pass away like a fever dream.Can anyone then survive the game of time? In this endless stream?What is all this that we consider delicious? What is it worth?"Gold, wealth and honor? Or even love? Because this would be a treasure true.Flowers, meadows, fields, trees remind me of you.And may they always lead me to you."

"Oh you sweet little, petal. You didn't make yourself all the fuzz to write such beauty for your Ethel?"

"You deserve to be courted, like a maiden. Who if not you? You, who always just want to help all people. You, who are only thought of when someone wants something from her. You who see something beautiful in all things and don't judge anyone. I wanted to find a way to express what I feel for you and how I see you."

"I've never heard more beautiful words. Oh, you're really special, my brave Blade. Something very special."

…

"I can hardly understand anything from over here," murmured Aristen the storm sorceress, crouching in the bush that provided cover for the companions, "and I'm barely have any space, make room, Shadowheart."

"I can't go anywhere, we don't have more space because of Saulus' opulent Tiefling ass."

"Thick ass yourself!" Saulus hissed back on the spot.

"Darling voluptuous glutes is a compliment, it was compliment," Astarion's soft voice defended the cleric in a whisper.

"We can't get any closer, or they'll see us," Gale whispered from the crouch, curiosity won about his stiff, bent knees.

"I could cast a hiding spell, then we can dare to get closer and don't have to eavesdrop so much. Because I think I hear your breaths more than what Wyll says," Aristen suggested.

"A sorcerer spell? I'd rather not. This only ends in a beacon that can be seen for miles or in the end we turn into a cloud of fog. If then I take over the magic, no offense, pure security. But anyway, I think it's too late now, she would notice that if we started doing magic here."

"I have to say it's not going the way you promised me," Lae'zel's voice sounded unimpressed from the background.

"Nobody promised you anything and now shush!"

…

"The last days with you were and are very special, my dear Ethel," Wyll's smile over the tea table on the sunny terrace of the teahouse of the sunlit wetlands, was brighter than all the green of nature and the rays of the sun combined.

For a long time he had not worn a smile after his father had disowned him. But he had found it again, every time he could help someone. Nevertheless, shadows had returned over his head, on the missions of Mizora. These orders had nothing to do with heroism or helpful deeds. Again and again, the Blade had dark moments. Moments of loneliness that he couldn't share with anyone. Possibly not wanted to.

Either to be a burden to no one or because he didn't have anyone and didn't trust anyone strong enough in the end?

But since Auntie Ethel had come into his life, he had really gotten to know her, this had changed. He was no longer lonely. This feeling of being able to share everything with her was overwhelming. Love had found its way into his life and had changed so much.

He had changed.

The young Ravengard put his thoughts into words for Ethel, who looked at him patiently with a slightly wrinkled smile.

„… and that's why I don't want this time to end," Wyll ended his remark.

"But don't they call you The Blade of Frontiers, my sweet son? Is not the whole Swoardcoast your domain to protect and not only this wilderness and my little swamp?"

…

"Eww what did she say?! I can't believe it," Astarion suppressed a rattle.

"She didn't talk about her wetlands you pervert!", Shadowheart corrected the thoughts of his silver curly head and gave him a light slap on it.

"Psst, Wyll is talking!"

…

Wyll looked around: The terrace of Auntie Ethel's Teahouse. A refuge in the countryside. In nature. A place of peace and tranquility. No problems, no fights. Just take a deep breath. Take a deep breath.

A reminiscence of everything that meant peace, goodness, balance and hope.

Just as her hand signified hope, and as if he could show and convey his thoughts to her, he seized her hand and looked resolutely into her eyes:

"Staying here with you is a future I can imagine. Because I can't imagine a future in which I'm separated from you."

"You sweet thing! You'd give up your days as a wandering legend just for your Ethel?"

"I've realized that there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I'd love to live here with you, it's not a price I have to pay or any sacrifice, my beloved. It's just a win. Besides, I don't give up on myself. I am still the protector of this area. Trouble and quarrels always find their way and as we have seen, this area needs more than just a defender."

The ruined villages in the surrounding area, dead Tieflings, goblins and druids were witnesses to Wyll's true words and there might have been one less house on fire if a savior like him had been on patrol.

"Oh my dear petal, I may have built here a little refugium for my own, but believe me: Auntie Ethel is at home everywhere. So, if your path takes you out into the world, I'm happy to be with you on the journey."

…

"It's definitely too tight here, someone is sitting on my tail," Saulus murmured and desperately tried to push the others a little to the side with her shoulders.

"Chk, you would have even brought Karlach with you, who would have set the whole bush on fire," Lae'zel reproached them.

"You can compensate her afterwards because she wasn't allowed to come with you," Shadowheart only came to mind.

"Guys, when you're watching someone from the bushes, you're supposed to keep your mouth shut," Astarion hissed at the others, his furrowed brow a testament to his growing impatience with the others' poor sneaking and hiding skills.

"Someone has experience crouching and eavesdropping from the bushes," Saulus grinned provocatively in his direction, giggling amusedly at her own joke.

A jabbing elbow from the rogue was the response. "How about you shut your little snout?"

But he hadn't expected the bard's knuckles to nudge back. "Shut your sweet little snout!"

"How about you both shut your mouth?!" Gale interrupted the ensuing scuffle.

"Um, guys...what are you doing here?" Wyll's voice, sounding directly in front of their hiding place, not to mention his stature looming over them, sent a flash of electricity through their limbs without the aid of a lightning spell.

Only Astarion wasn't the only one who remained frozen after the shock had made them flinch; he nudged the Tiefling bard forward: "Saulus wanted to see you! About the poem!"

"Um, yeah, exactly...I was worried you might need some musical accompaniment..." She fumbled with the small flute she almost always kept in her belt as a spare, as she approached Wyll, still a bit uncertain.

"She was so worried about whether you were reciting everything correctly and wanted to rush in as a secret souffleuse. Aristen here wanted to accompany her," he pulled the blonde with the pointy ears onto his shoulder, "and I can't let two ladies wander through this wilderness and some wetlands alone. So I had to accompany them, right? Self-evidently."

Astarion's recital left no room for argument. At the end of it, he casually gestured behind him with his thumb: "Yeah, and Gale and the rest just came along without being asked. You know how it is; you just can't get rid of them."

"So mean," the Wizard of Waterdeep pouted. Made up excuse or not, it sounded seriously.

"So," Saulus the bard waved her short flute, "do you need any musical accompaniment?"

"No, but thank you. I've already recited my prose."

Wyll's wandering glance over the entourage of his questionable friends didn't quite reveal whether he believed Astarion's excuse or not. In the end, it wouldn't make any difference anyway, at least not for the remaining companions.

"Did you bring your friends, petal? Why didn't you say so? They can come in for some tea. But it's more polite to knock on the front door, my dears."

"Apparently, your poem has already caught you in an overripe swamp flower. What interesting company, Wyll," Astarion smirked in his usual manner, his elven eyes wandering over Auntie Ethel, who at first continued to smile at him good-naturedly, but her words that followed sounded quite different:

"Someone should really wash your mouth out with a hard soap, young man! Be careful, cheeky remarks always come back to haunt you."

Her voice retained its usual twangy, sing-song quality, but she still hissed her words to Astarion with such emphasis that it sounded a touch like a threat, or rather an ominous promise.

The vampire's pointed face briefly went through a theatrical drama: on the one hand, amusement at her spiteful reply, on the other, natural indignation and malice at her affront, followed by indecision between rising above it or retorting sarcastically. He seemed to be still considering whether it would be a good idea to seriously take on the old eccentric.

"As usual, Astarion misspoke," Gale intervened soothingly, to which the vampire only gave a disapproving, offended hiss, "and we didn't mean to disturb you. So, we'd best be on our way."

Under the watchful eyes of the warlock and Auntie Ethel, the mage practically urged his companions to leave, as some would have gladly accepted the invitation to tea and asked curious questions. But this seemed to him likely to end in total chaos, especially given Astarion's current mood. He was no longer of any use on a diplomatic mission outside of the bushes. Had he said this out loud, Saulus would surely have found something to laugh about again; now Gale simply wanted to get his companions back to camp so they could reflect on the revelations without becoming childish. Because no matter how extraordinary Wyll's decision was, it was his decision, right? Still, none of their business.

Unless he really wanted to leave them...what would be about Mizora? Would she be happy about that decision?

But what happened next could probably be described as a series of unforeseeable events:

On the way back to the camp, they encountered two men looking for their sister because she had gone to the Wetlands to make a deal with a Hag, as revealed in a letter she had left them.

…

"It was clear to all of us that Auntie Ethel was a crone. But a hag HAG. Like in 'I eat children'-hag, that's a bit more intense," said the vampire—the vampire of all people, echoing everyone's thoughts.

But Aristen thought of something else and said: "Maybe she is more of a Rodzanice than a hag."

"Is this some warlock mission he has to do?" Karlach raised her hands and shoulders almost desperately in disbelief, her face a mask of sheer confusion, "it has to be!"

"Should we contact Mizora? Maybe she's behind this," Aristen the high elf sorceress continued explaining, that way they would have certainty about a theoretical warlock mission.

"We're not talking to Mizora!" Karlach practically hissed.

"Meow, Karlach," Astarion laughed, making a scratching paw movement with his hand.

"Shut up Astarion!" the hellish barbarian scolded him unmoved, earning rolling vampire eyes.

"Gods, calm down," he simply sighed, unable to understand why she couldn't laugh at herself. Something Astarion never could, as long as it didn't concern him. But woe betide anyone who did...

"Maybe he just doesn't know," Aristen shrugged.

"I don't know if that makes things better," Astarion murmured, "and shouldn't he have noticed it at their little meetings, since he's already talking about love and writing sonnets for her at night?"

"Before we spend too much time discussing this, we'll go to him, tell him, and most importantly, get him the hell out of there!" Karlach slammed her hand on the table.

"And if there really are any problems, I'll get us out of there in seconds with a portal," Gale assured confidently.

"Well, I don't really want to rely on Gale and a portal, let alone go anywhere near one. No thanks!" Astarion swaggered.

"No offense, Astarion, but put your sarcasm into your little rogue pocket."

His fanged mouth stood open in piqued, offended shock about Gale’s response.

...

"Look, who's back already! Did you miss your Auntie Ethel and your little friend? I already said that you can join us, even if I really appreciate the time, we have for ourselves."

The look Ethel gave Wyll after greeting the abruptly appeared group was definitely affectionate. Teasing glances between two lovers. This triggered completely different feelings in Shadowheart, and she began to make a dry gagging sound.

"I think I'm going to throw up," she choked from the background.

"What's that brat saying back there?!" Ethel hissed dangerously.

"Friends..." The emphatic tone of Wyll's voice suggested the not-so-unusually famous passive-aggressive Ravengard streak, with which they had occasionally met, and which hit you unexpectedly like lightning on the thunderbox. You were completely defenseless and only noticed it when it was already too late. Saulus, in particular, had fallen victim to it many times before. Wyll's latent passive-aggressiveness, not the lightning.

"...it's kind that you seem to be barely able to stand it without me, but you could certainly grant me a little privacy."

"We encountered two men—Demir and Johl—who showed us a letter from their sister Mayrina," Gale of Waterdeep interjected, trying to speed things up before Lae'zel began to unsheathe her greatsword, "and were on their way to save their sister from the fatal deal with a hag regarding her late husband."

To Gale's surprise, he found no surprise in Wyll's reaction; instead, he simply sighed, his eyes expressing the distress of a topic they were already familiar with and could no longer hear. The wizard wasn't the only one who hadn't expected this.

"Yes, Demir and Johl, I've already spoken to them and told them not to take their worries about their troubled sister out on Ethel. She would never do anything to harm the girl. On the contrary, everyone always seeks help from her, which she offers so generously, and then she's condemned as an evil witch because someone wants to profit from her again? That's not right! And why? Because she lives in the forest and knows about potions? I thought we'd overcome such times."

Astarion's raised index finger was silenced, along with his mouth, which was about to make what one could only assume was a snippy comment. Saulus cautiously reached for his finger and quickly shook her head, wide-eyed and with a twisted mouth.

"The girl was here voluntarily because she was so desperately looking for help, but which she simply couldn't find. Oh, there isn't. I told her about possibilities like a staff that might have had some effect, but she didn't really like any of that. I couldn't really help the poor thing either, but to demonize me because I want to help people in need is quite something."

Neither anger nor annoyance graced Auntie Ethel's face; instead, it was the pure sadness that washed over her eyes, the result of many years of experience and life. Sadness and disappointment that hurt her deeply.

"Fortunately, I was there to point out the men's false accusations, and that you're now making the same accusations really disappoints me, friends. I thought you were better people, and if you didn't trust her, then at least you could trust me and my judgment," the warlock's words hit the group with the full force of his disillusionment.

Step, parry, and the blade stroke again! "Ouch," Saulus grimaced, hurt, and practically felt the blade's sting.

The warlock's arm gently wrapped around Ethel's shoulder, pulling her lovingly and protectively toward him, while his left hand faithfully and firmly clasped hers, her gray-haired head leaning against his shoulder.

"I will never allow anyone to treat her like that again. I won't tolerate any ill-regard for Ethel either!"

"Come on!" Astarion practically burst out, his delicate hand pointing pointedly at the lovers. "You don't really believe this farce, do you?! And you can't seriously expect us to buy into any of it!"

"Wyll..." Aristen's composed voice emerged from the background, and her fine figure moved in front of the vampire, "...if you're happy, that's the most important thing, and no one questions it. But there's an illusion in these wetlands, in this teahouse, that's clearly palpable, and we wonder if you've noticed it too. I think that's what Astarion wanted to say."

"I did not..." muttered the smirking vampire, offended, and seemed unwilling to accept any help from the beautiful elf. Apparently, Astarion wanted to be transformed into a pale frog today.

So it came the illusion began to fade, revealing Ethel’s true face:

Not only was her face more of a grotesque grimace, truly sprung from the horror stories of fairy tales designed to frighten children, but her entire figure, apart from two arms and legs, barely resembled that of a humanoid.

A hunchbacked witch.

Literally and in the flesh before them.

Born from the swamps in which they stood, whose mud seemed to practically pump through her veins and whose meshwork covered her somewhat skin-like skin. A macabre green thing, fused with nature, not in a picturesque way, but only in a grotesque way.

It might be superficial to judge them for their appearance, but her wide mouth with its sharp teeth grinned only too maliciously and screamed "child eater."

That's what they saw.

That was what they all saw, all except Wyll Ravengard.

His eyes, red and stone white-grey, rested with gentle love on the face of Auntie Ethel the hag. His hand gently followed the gaze of his kind, loving eyes. It snuggled against the hag's green cheek, and she snuggled joyfully against it.

"They say love is blind. But I've always seen her true face. No illusion could deceive my eyes and my heart, because I see her for what she is. Because she sees me for what I truly am. We don't want to change each other."

"Why would I ever want to change you, my sweet love bug?" her long finger with a claw of a nail booped playfully on Wyll's nose.

"And that is why you are even more beautiful to me in your true form."

"Oh come on!" the silver-haired vampire sighed, whispering dramatically to himself, and rolled his eyes as if they would never tilt back into his skull.

"She showed me people can change. Not every monster is a monster. Like me. Wouldn't I be not a monster to the most, with my devil horns? But not to her. And I was wrong to judge myself so quickly over other creatures. Seeing through her eyes showed me a whole new beauty and love for the world and all of its inhabitants. Not just those who others decide to be worth. Worth of life. Worth of love. She showed me a new kind of love."

It seemed as if it lifted every burden from young Ravengard's heart to finally no longer have to keep it a secret, but to share his love with his friends. Even if they didn't understand him and he had to put their prejudices aside, you could see how much he was living this moment of truth. Finally, no more hiding.

Auntie Ethel and Wyll looked longingly into each other's eyes, as if the moon would miss the stars and as the sea adored the moon from below.

"I have hidden and bent myself long enough through the pact with Mizora. This love should finally belong to me alone. Come here!"

He invited her closer with a knowing look. Wyll's loving hands, which rested on the hag's cheeks, pulled her face toward him as he pursed his lips.

"Eww, gods no!" the companions cried in near unison and turned their faces away, except for one, whose eyes lit up and who leaned forward with his mouth wide open to get a better look at the "show":

Astarion – whose fangs sparkled with excitement in his large grin.

"I have to see this!" he grinned from ear to ear, watching as Wyll tilted his head and closed his eyes to press his lips to the hag's.

"Okay, no! No, this is too perverted even for me!" cried Astarion, as he hastily covered his face with his hands in a panicked frenzy to avoid having to watch the whole thing. The hag's tongue probably wrapped around Wyll's was something even he didn't want to witness.

In the middle of it, however, the two were torn apart, as Karlach's strong hand suddenly shot forward: "Okay, that's enough!"

She grabbed Wyll and pulled him with her: "Go wizard, do your wizard thing! Let's get the fuck out of here!"

"Give me my warlock baby back!"

Ravengard was pulled along by the collar, then landed under Karlach's arm and she jumped with him in a high arc through Gale's portal as if a whole pack of goblins and imps were chasing them at once, until the portal swallowed them and closed behind the group without so much as a "goodbye."

...

"Guys! What's going on?!" Wyll cursed like a scoundrel back at camp, giving his companions a completely stunned look.

But he also received a look of disbelief thrown back at him from the others' faces, only the warlock couldn't understand it at all. For him, the others' behavior was completely out of line and required an apology.

"If you're worried about me, fine. But now it stops being sweet or annoyingly endearing, it's just annoying! I don't know how I can apologize to Ethel for you, or what I should even think of you when you behave like this."

Shadowheart remained unfazed by his tirade and outright outburst, at least not in the context of the young Ravengard, whom one never really saw angry or anything like that. He never raised his voice or lost his temper. He was always the epitome of calm and poise. That he could get so angry was new, but it left the cleric with no choice but to cross her arms and wrinkle her nose: "Wyll, no offense, but you've definitely taken a blow to the head. Be thankful we're trying to help you and we're not leaving you to die as hag food."

"Why can't you still understand?" And his anger turned into haunting despair; he really wanted to convince them and make them understand.

"Can't you see that I've finally found someone who doesn't judge me or take advantage of me? I was raised to serve the greater good: The Gate, the people – only to end up serving a devil. Fitting, isn't it? Because I can, right? To serve as a soldier for others. Father never really asked what I wanted. So, it has come that the devils and demons came and took my soul in a contract. Again, someone just took. My father cast me away without trusting me. Maybe I forgot along the way what I really want for myself, because I always put the needs of others at first place. I don't know if people ever saw me – really saw me – if I didn't help them, if I didn't fight for them. "

The look of his eyes swept through the group, resting on each of them, and their expression easily cast a feeling of shame and disgrace over each of them. The disgrace, the sadness, the feeling of being lost – everything that Wyll felt. Everything that he was revealing to them here.

"And what did I fight against? What was imposed on me. I was no better, and I didn't question what lay behind the appearance. Devilish, demonic appearance. I wasn't better. If you're not like me, then you must be the enemy, because a book once said that all witches are evil, right? Because everything with horns is a devil and devils must be killed, is that so?”

His eyes laid on the two Tieflings.

“She shows me my faults without mocking me or making me feel stupid. No, but simply enriched...happy. Finally understood and settled. I was so lost after Mizora took my humanity, and yet I don't cry for it, because the decision to spare Karlach was the right one. And I would make it again a hundred times in every lifetime. Just as I hope to meet Auntie Ethel again and again."

While Shadowheart remained untouched, Karlach could no longer. If she hadn't been so warm, and if the tears hadn't immediately evaporated as they rolled down her cheeks, she would have cried tears down her cheeks as she lowered her gaze, stricken and moved.

“Wyll, darling, you just sound completely crazy!" Astarion had no problem saying what he thought, and as usual, he believed he was saying what everyone else was thinking.

"I'm starting to care less about what you think! And I'm going back to her, and either you let me through willingly or I'll make room..." The warlock's tone sharpened, and his hand slid dangerously towards his rapier until, out of nowhere, he toppled forward and, lay down on his belly…snoring.

Surprised eyes wandered to Gale, whose hands were still gently wrapping the weave after casting the sleeping spell.

"I think," he cleared his throat briefly, "it's time we persuade him more forcefully to stay here."

"With the greatest pleasure," Astarion, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel grinned simultaneously, looping a rope around his wrists and ankles.

"Maybe not quite so tightly, Lae'zel," Aristen ventured, seeing the Githyanki binding his feet.

"So what do we do now?" Saulus asked, her gaze instinctively going to Gale.

"The Hag clearly put a spell on Wyll. So how do we break it, wizard?" Astarion nodded, chiming in.

"Hag's magic isn't exactly my specification," Gale admitted sheepishly, while his tone also hinted that they should have been aware of that themselves, because it was a fairly obvious, logical fact. At least to him.

"What a miracle. You're usually the expert on all sorts of magic," Aristen muttered, only loud enough for Gale to hear but could have ignored.

Saulus, however, didn't miss it and absolutely not ignored it.

Her eyes widened, and a loud "HA!" echoed from the back where she stood, "Hahahaha woohoo! She's given it to you, Gale!" she cried, laughing loudly. The wizard from Waterdeep had pointed out to the Sorceress Aristen at every opportunity that sorcery wasn't real magic. He deserved the comeback.

Astarion, of all people, uncharacteristically intervened as the voice of reason, saying in a calm voice: "As much as I like to take every opportunity to harp on about the fact, we have a useless wizard with us..."

"Hey!" protested Gale, not missing the insult beneath the apparent rescue. Friends like Astarion didn't need enemies, and Gale, meanwhile, pulled the proverbial knife out of his back.

"...just as much as we should be looking for a solution to this...problem," the vampire continued undeterred, "not that I care where Wyll puts his blade in his free time, but if it prevents him from concentrating on using it in combat, then I do care. Usually, he's always eager to be on the front lines, solving all the monsters and problems. If he doesn't do that, it all falls on us, and we're stuck in this wilderness for longer. That makes it less of a challenge to free him from that witch."

"Maybe he really does like her," Karlach objected.

"Darling, are you blind or stupid? Have you even looked at her? She's a witch! You don't like them! And even if someone in yours or our bard's vivid imagination did..."

"Hey! Why?!" Saulus protested, looking confused at the unnecessary jab. And she couldn't help but notice Gale grinning in her direction. She planned to straighten the elf’s curls later, for the audacity to confuse her with Alfira or—gods forbid—Volo.

"...WYLL doesn't like them. He slaughters every monster," Astarion finished his thought.

"Neither you, fangs," Kalach emphasized, "suddenly not so stupid anymore, eh, smartass?!"

"Gods, can someone explain to her that they're not the same thing," Astarion shrieked, almost desperately.

"Actually, she has a debatable point, Astarion," Gale objected logically, only making him despair even more.

"Well, as long as she's not a goblin, there's a possibility. At least with those, we can be sure he'd never willingly tolerate them," the bard shrugged.

"Really Saulus, this again?" Shadowheart sighed.

"I'm sorry I can't forget the fact, that he wanted to exterminate all goblins, parents and children, but portrayed me as the morally reprehensible one when I didn't immediately offer condolences to the goblin child talking about his dead parents. What bullshit! I mean, he probably killed his parents. Including that we wanted to sneak up on the goblin leaders incognito, and after all our persuasion, the first thing he did was tell the priestess to her face that we should kill her and make her scream. After he ripped me off outside in front of the goblin kid who tried to grab my horns."

"Saulus, I think you're missing the point," Aristen smiled knowingly. But loving and reassuring.

"But..."

"I understand," she gently touched her arm, "just let it go and get over it."

A familiar sigh rippled through the group, and it was Lae'zel who drew attention. Her face, with its barely existent nose, was twisted in annoyance and anger, her sinewy arms crossed. Anyone who knew her, or Githyanki in general, even slightly, knew that she was tired of this sitting around arguing. The warrior could only take pleasure in action. Well-thought-out and planned, with meaning and understanding, yes, but still action!

Either something was done now, or the topic was ended, and she would have known immediately how to end the topic most quickly.

"I think we've wasted enough time on this already. We should have been looking for my crech in the meantime, or have you forgotten that we have tadpoles in our brains? We should be working on that!"

"Lae'zel Fey magic is truly something not to be underestimated. Bewitchment. Classic enchantment magic. A spell twinned with his essence; but it could also be something totally different. A potion, a talisman – too many options," answered Aristen, the sorceress who definitely didn't want to give up on Wyll so easily. If he had been in love, she would have been the first to congratulate him, but before the whole thing, she had witnessed a hundred times more potential and tension between him and Karlach than between him and the strange aunt. The swamp reeked of rotten magic and illusions, the brothers, her sister… something was wrong.

"What in the nine hells?!" Suddenly, something stirred from Wyll's direction, and after the sleep spell had worn off, the warlock began to realize his situation and pull at his bonds. "Untie me immediately!" He cursed and was about to start tossing and turning, but Saulus was already there, saying in a gentle voice, "Hey buddy...", sitting down on the bound Wyll's backside, "It's okay, we'll take care of you."

It took a few moments for him to calm down and stop fidgeting. So he changed his tactics and smiled sheepishly at his companions: "Guys, seriously? That's not necessary, is it? We're all friends, you don't have to tie me up."

"It seemed different earlier," Lae'zel retorted, provocatively sticking her pointed, bony nose at Ravengard, who was lying prone beneath Saulus.

"If you're really worried about me leaving you, that's not a problem! I've spoken to Ethel about it, and she knows we're looking for a solution to be freed from the tadpoles, and she would accompany us on our journey!" he explained, almost too happily, as if that could settle all the disputes.

"Yes, because that was my biggest concern, that Auntie Ethel wouldn't be able to accompany us," sarcasm dripped from Astarion's mouth. The vampire simply couldn't suppress another roll of his eyes. After this day, his and Lae'zel's eyes would hurt so much from rolling them all.

Meanwhile, Aristen had made a decision: "Before we try any spells on Wyll, I suggest we go to the source that can definitely solve this:

Auntie Ethel."

...

Auntie Ethel's lair, thick with illusion, rot, and glowing fungal light. Reeking of hag's magic, especially now that the illusion around her own person was gone.

The sight of her was still a scary one for the group, and they all agreed: Wyll hadn't lost his heart to her, not willingly.

While one half was convinced based on her looks, the other was convinced based on her fake smile.

The air smelled of weavemoss, autumn crocus, and decay. Nevertheless, the party once again entered Ethel's sanctum.

"You all have some guts to show yourselves here again. I hope you came with an excuse and my darling boy in tow!"

"Cut out the dramatics, we know very well you did something to our friend, and we won't leave without you releasing him from your shady love story!”, Shadowheart snapped with a straight back, just like all the others. They weren't in negotiable mood, that much was clear. The time for peace and negotiations was over, at least as far as Lae'zel was concerned, as she wanted to cut the witch in two immediately. But Gale had taught her better that she shouldn't underestimate the monster.

"Release? I don't know what you're talking about, you feisty little brat," Ethel spat, slowly losing her patience. The loving look faded. In fact, her gentle, loving nature was completely replaced without Wyll at her side.

"Love songs don't usually involve domination charms with whips and chains and rotting mushrooms, Ethel. I'd know—I've written both. Or something like that," said Saulus the Tiefling bard, stopping herself before losing the plot; plucked a few strings of her lyre to activate the weave and cast a spell over her two crossbows before swinging the instrument over her shoulder, already reaching for a bolt to notch.

Gale agreed with sharp disdain to further harass the hag and corner her:

"Your hag's magic is all around this place. But layered with something...older. Foul. Ethel, what have you done?"

Auntie Ethel just grinned, viciously, slyly, and not the least bit worried. Her green skin strangely and suspiciously flickering with its scaled texture.

"Oh, don't be so grim, you wet blankets. The precious Wyll came to me on his free will and behalf, that poor misunderstood lonesome dear. All I offered him was love and attention. Something none of you ever gave him."

“Lies,” Lae’zel hissed with a voice full of fury and stepped forward, her blade already raised, “let him go you crone, or I will cut you down before your next lie slithers free.”

“Be careful petal, before you hurt yourself with that sharp thing”, only mockery escaped the grinning mouth of Ethel

“Undo the spell, hag. Or your next kiss will be from lightning,” threatened Aristen the storm sorceress, her eyes already crackling with arcane energy that was slowly beginning to twitch around the tips of her thin fingers.

“Ha! That was a good one, darling!” Astarion laughed at the on point line of the sorceress, briefly breaking his tense fighting pose with the grim look before immediately slipping back into it.

Ethel's cackles turned into a furious roar, and she spit in the direction of the party, that was ready to defend their companion Wyll:

"Fine! Let's end this farce! You want him? You'll have to take him from my dead, cold claws! But I guess it will be more the dead, cold claws of you all, and you will reek and rot as mud in my swamp, like the shite that you are!"

Spells began to fly, and Gale shouted: "Silence her, Shadowheart!"

But too late, before the cleric could cast the silencing dome over the witch, her bizarre skin began to shimmer a strange green again, and suddenly she disappeared, only to reappear in several places at once.

Mirror Images.

"Damn it, where did she go?!" Shadowheart's voice rang out desperately, her hands ready to form the spell.

"Tsk'va, that pathetic cheating coward!"

“Focus on where she stood!”, Saulus’ voice echoed to her friends. Her eyes hadn't left the Hag for a second, so she exactly pointed to the spot where Ethel had been standing a split second ago. “Just cast Silence in that area anyway, Shadowheart, then she won't be able to try any new tricks. She couldn’t get too far. And Gale, cast something flammable into the area; it'll reveal herself to us.”

The College of Swords Bard found new use for her Bardic Inspiration to perform a Slashing Flourish weapon action with her crossbows to keep the mirror images of Ethel on their toes. This flourish maneuver allowed her to aim and shoot with two bolts at once at each crossbow, which whirred through the tension-charged air.

Doubts held the wizard captive as to whether it was such a good idea and whether the bard was standing far enough away. But there was no time for hesitation and arguing. Immediately after the cleric's silencing dome appeared and seemingly nothing happened except that Ethel's mirror images continued to attack her with claws and poison mist, he cast a raining fireball down.

"Ardē!"

With venomous, malicious hisses, the real Ethel became visible, shaking herself at the very edge of the sea of ​​flames that had fallen from the sky at Gale's command. But her screaming, spitting, and arguing were all in vain; she was still within range of Shadowheart's silencing spell, and thus all her evil gurgling remained stuck silent in her throat. At which point she stretched out her spindly fingers and pointed at the cleric.

Two of her mirror images surrounded her, one slashing with claws, the other casting a spell of confusion to force the half-elf to the edge of a cliff and tumble her down.

Aristen used her storm magic to summon a thunderstorm overhead, the lair crackling with primal energy as the lightning struck the copies of Ethel, freeing Shadowheart from their grasp.

Meanwhile, the real Auntie Ethel dashed out of the area of ​​the silence dome to reclaim the power of her own spells, but in doing so, she ran into the open arms — or rather, short swords — of Astarion. The Rogue had used the time to get into position unseen and completely calmly and silently. As calculated, it paid off, and his two blades descended upon her.

It was a hard, dangerous fight.

Gale cast Counterspell against Ethel's Dominate Person to thwart her plan, confuse someone else, or make them fight against their friends.

The Tiefling bard fired precise bolts that burst into magical chords and drilled with sonic damage into her green flesh. Until she staggered and coughed as one of Ethel's foul green clouds burst at her feet, blinding her vision and sending her staggering from the caustic poison.

The air was charged not only with tension, but also with electricity, and Aristen came to Saulus’ aid, using her storm power to swirl the hag's poison and acid aside before her lightning bolts leaped to the malevolent fey creature like an ominous chain of blazing doom.

Lae'zel unleashed her Great Sword, raining down slashing attacks that would strike down giants, supported by a holy flame from the back and Astarion's bone-breaking and flesh-toring arrows that shot from the string of his longbow with deadly precision, as well as brutal power and speed.

"ENOUGH!"

The growling voice of Auntie Ethel roamed through the place, coughing and spitting as she staggered backward.

"You became quiet an inconvenience for me, you little maggots," she shouted with a tongue as evil as her very own soul and heart. No sign of love left.

"Stop it right there. I swear if you kill me, your warlock friend remains bound. My curse is laced into his very soul. But if you let me go, I'll release him. Willingly."

"Who could trust the words of a hag?!", Shadowheart spat at her.

"You have no choice but to believe me," Ethel grinned broadly, her long claws twitching.

"Can that be true?" Lae'zel's ever-serious gaze shot to the wizard of the group for confirmation of Ethel's words about her magic, but the warrior remembered Gale's "failure" with Fey Magic and turned away to the sorceress. "Aristen?"

Disappointment wasn't even a word for what glittered in Gale's brown eyes, as he had already raised his index finger and opened his mouth to offer Lae'zel an explanation. Losing his trust as the group's #1 Magical Consultant hurt his ego even more than the orb in his chest, evident in the slight pout he pulled as he lowered his finger, completely unnoticed by Lae'zel.

"Normally, the spell disappears with the caster. Unless she did something else. A cursed object or something," replied the blonde high elf with blue eyes. “Right, Gale?”

“Yes, right. To kill would end her power, but to risk Wyll’s life as we don’t know the details is a cost to high”, the wizard enthusiastically nodded, happy to share his thoughts. 

"I thought, with your wormy group, it wouldn't hurt to have someone on my side, just to be on the safe side. And I thought you might be useful to me if you continued your work here. So I asked the well-behaved boy to carry a few potion crates for poor Auntie Ethel, and while I was at it, I secretly put a bracelet around his wrist. All you have to do is take it off and burn it along with this powder."

The hag's long fingernails fished out a leathery pouch that looked as ominous as its contents probably were.

"Swear on your foul magic, that this breaks the curse, or I will break every bone in your disgusting body!" the warrior of K'liir continued. She was in her element — action and not reaction.

"100 percent guaranteed effect. More than your swords and blades," the hag grinned. Strangely scheming.

“It better works, because when it doesn't, I will come back and you will pray that we had killed you. Because I will burn down the entire swamp, and that's just the beginning, and now vanish from our sight. Forever!”

Lae'zel roughly grabbed the leather pouch and ripped it roughly from Ethel's hand to take it for herself.

“You are too loud, girl. You have what you wanted, now leave my swamp and kiss my little petal from me one last time.”

...

"Next time, we shoot first and charm later," Saulus stated while entering the camp, counting her remaining bolts of her crossbows.

Aristen nodded in agreement while sighing: "Let's just hope there isn't a next time."

"Oh my darlings, there is always a next time. But I am sure, something like that will NEVER EVER happen again," Astarion grinned at the two pointy-eared ladies.

"You're back!" Karlach cried joyfully when she heard their voices and ran a little towards them. "Please tell me you've accomplished something!"

"To preempt Gale's long story: Yes. We also found that Mayrina girl later and freed her, but that doesn’t help with our Wyll-problem ", Shadowheart chimed in, and the companions gave Karlach a summary while they immediately went to the still-bound Wyll, so as not to waste any time and to break the curse of the hag immediately.

Gale pushed up the warlock's sleeve, revealing a bracelet made of twisted willow branches.

"By Mystra's nose, indeed," breathed the brown-eyed wizard, amazed with the others' breath on his neck.

He broke the cursed thing, smashed it to the ground, sprinkled the nasty, suffocating powder from the leather pouch over it, and after a brief flame from his fingers, the bracelet burst into flames.

The nightmare was over.

Or was it?

All eyes turned to Wyll Ravengard, who was still lying tied up on the ground.

"Wyll... buddy...how are you doing?" Saulus asked, cautiously approaching him, an uncertain smile on her scarred lips.

"Any...feelings?" Astarion dared to ask, emphasizing the word "feelings" as if he'd never said it before in his life.

"What's with all this impertinent questioning? You were with Ethel, right? How is she? Is she okay? Don't hurt her, or I swear..." He started to thrash around again, but was stopped by Saulus, who squatted on him again. "Whoopsie, let's not do that, shall we, Wyll?"

"Chk, the bitch cheated on us!"

"For fuck's sake, I can't believe it."

"Just untie me and let me go to her!"

"It's not you speaking, Wyll. It's her magic. Fight it," Gale pleaded urgently.

"No, I want to listen to my heart!"

"I've had enough!" Astarion grumbled.

"Me too! Stupid istiks!" Lae'zel hissed, truly fed up.

"Great! Now what?!" Saulus sighed, crouching on Wyll.

"We'll go back to the hag and finish this. No one betrays a Githyanki," Lae'zel was determined, perhaps less for Wyll's sake than for revenge, and the thought that Ethel fooled them, lied them in the face.

"Then on to round two!" the bard jumped up from Ravengard, only to see Astarion waving his hands and shaking his silver head wildly.

"Have fun, but without me! You're welcome to do that, but I'm out! I've had enough! This time I'm keeping watch over our love-struck Sword Coast watchdog," and with these words, Astarion plopped down on Wyll's backside, where Saulus had been squatting.

"Ugh," the air was forced from the Warlock's lungs and throat as the Rogue sat down on him, and Wyll wheezed breathlessly: "Astarion, could you sit somewhere else? You're a little heavier than Saulus."

"Well, beauty weighs," the elf laughed, throwing his head back as he bent his hand.

Saulus just turned around with her arms outstretched and shaking her head, before deciding to let it go and not take it as an insult, but simply as a compliment he'd directed at himself, and set off with the others back to the swamp. Meanwhile, they could still hear Astarion's voice:

"And don't be like that, Wyll, I could have sat on your face. Or would you prefer that?"

...

"Look who is once again my guest: The cat dragged in a pile of knuckle-dragging gobshite! But I didn't invite you, you little snots," Ethel shouted as angry as any existence could be, as the party stood again at her door, her face a grimace of disgust. Or even more so than it already was. Wyll would have been enraged by this comparison!

"Save your breath, hag, your lousy hoax has been exposed. Now bring me the real antidote!" Lae'zel wasted no time, the tip of her blade already aimed at Ethel's pointed, bumpy nose. Which only elicited an unsteady twitch of the witch's green, algae-covered eyebrows before she whistled a laugh between her sharp piranha teeth.

"I have no idea what you're babbling about, you naughty little frog brat," she hissed at the warrior of K'liir, her voice practically screeching as her lip trembled in anger. Ethel had had enough of the group. Her hooked nose was fed up, if you will.

"Bracelet gone up in flames; our friend is still head over heels for you; is something clicking? Now just set him free or we'll have to find out how well witches really burn," Karlach intervened, her hand clenching her axe, but it was the licking flames around her hair and the look in her eyes that seemed really threatening.

"Stop bothering me, afterbirth of a worg! I gave you everything to break my curse. So how dare you to show up here again?!"

The growls, the hag's snarls, and the fury with which she spat out the words was a bit frightening, especially the way she began to rear up with her long arms.

"In fact, it didn't work," Gale stepped in, "the deal was to release him."

"And how is that my problem, hm?", Ethel leaned forward and tilted her head grotesquely, looking more like a strange dog at the moment, "if you're too stupid to do something right? Maybe your little warlock lapdog just loves Auntie Ethel so much, ever thought about that? And now...piss off you nasty naughty petals, you will never bother me again! You will never bother anyone again. Bye bye."

A snapping gesture with her screwy clawed fingers and the figure of the hag dissolved before their eyes, just vanished, just for a bunch of snarling Redcaps to appear and surround them.

"Aaah Redcaps!" screamed Saulus in alarm as she flinched and jumped on one leg as if their were spiders on the ground that she definitely didn't want to touch.

...

"And how did it go?"

Astarion's question would only seem like a farce to someone who saw the rest of the group returning to camp:

Shuffling, dejected, shoulders slumped, disheveled, and some with blood spattered on their cheeks.

Equally important was the way he asked:

Well, it was his usual nonchalant, sing-song voice that he had chosen, but considering the faces looking back, his own chosen smug grin spoke volumes.

"Untie him," Gale simply sighed in surrender, pointing to the flat Wyll on which Astarion was still perched, and whose request he hadn't complied with.

"What?!"

"Untie him," the wizard simply repeated, and the elf reluctantly complied, twisting his full lips slightly crookedly, always containing as many sarcastic remarks as they did seemingly insincere compliments.

"What happened then?", he pressed onward to know.

"Ethel said her hag spell had already been broken and that she had kept her word. There's nothing we can do," Aristen explained the situation to him.

"Outrageous! I may be bewitched; I may be under a spell — the spell of love — but I am not cursed!" Wyll shouted, tearing off the last scraps of rope and rubbing his wrists.

"And then she disappeared forever," Shadowheart added, sighing heavily as she sat down on her stool to rest her feet.

Nothing came of that.

"And she's set a horde of Redcaps on us to tear us apart so-"

"WHAT?!" Wyll's cry interrupted Saulus’ lament, "My Ethel is gone?! No!"

The Blade began to run, lips still murmuring words of adoration. The remaining companions followed him, although Astarion and Shadowheart were only reluctantly chasing after him, Aristen involuntarily staying at their level, and Lae'zel cursing that she couldn't believe the speed the power of love gave him, because she should have caught up with him by now.

"Soldier wait!"

But Wyll was unstoppable, which caused Karlach to grab a solid piece of wood as he ran past, "Sorry, soldier," and hurl it into her friend's path from behind.

The wooden stick got caught between his fast-moving feet, the warlock began to stumble, and Karlach grimaced apologetically and pityingly as he fell to his knees.

That was Lae'zel's moment to intervene before he started sprinting again too quickly, but when she grabbed his shoulder, the feeling of almost like being a hunter who had caught their prey, the triumph vanished and as Wyll began to sob.

"Um, Karlach, can you please help," Lae'zel calling her follower over, pulling Ravengard up.

"Wyll, buddy, what's up? We're here for you."

"You aren't! You scared off my girlfriend. And now I wanted to see if she maybe packed her things at her "Lotions & Potions" stall. And you're even trying to stop me from doing that."

Combined with Gale's heavy panting, which was now catching up with the group, and Astarion, who was definitely strolling up in a more than less relaxed manner, the companions now clearly realized that they had walked to the Emerald Grove. So Ravengard had indeed been drawn there.

"Wyll," Karlach refrained from placing her hand on his shoulder, because the charred spot wouldn't help at all now, "Ethel is gone. She also doesn’t sell no more potions at the grove. But remember why she did it. Because she was a hag. And why is she gone now? Because she was an evil hag who only had evil intentions. Evil. Remember? You hate evil! And you more like nice ladies with a heart of gold."

“Or more like a heart of fire,” Astarion whispered in the background, his hand in front of his mouth, grinning as he nudged Aristen and Saulus with his elbow and waggled his eyebrows, causing the bard to once again suppress a laugh, so she huffed a laugh through her nose.

“Shhh,” Aristen gently poked her elbow back to silence him, so as not to disturb Karlach, but with a big fat grin onto her elven lips.

“How can love be bad or evil, Karlach?” responded The Blade, “just as she is not blind. Since I lost my eye, I've seen more than ever. Happiness, joy, understanding. I've stopped judging and started questioning. Where I first saw only an enemy in a hag, I have found love. A happiness that would otherwise have been forever denied to me, out of sheer stubbornness and blindness.”

Even Gale sighed deeply and laid his head with its thick brown hair and the scattered gray strands — now one could guess whether he owed these to time, Mystra or the orb, or perhaps his mom and Tara — in his hand. As beautiful as he would have found a bard's tale in which a warlock falls in love with a hag and they both overcome the forces of good and evil and all prejudices, he still knew that it wasn't true. Wyll and Ethel could have been happy; at first glance, an unlikely couple, but what others thought should never concern you, Gale respected that to the highest degree.

But he had been with the others at the fight at Ethel's lair and she had enchanted the Duke's son, had admitted it. It couldn't be that she had enchanted him for nothing, surely?

That Wyll was already in love with her and she had gone to all the trouble for nothing.

Or...or was she?

Gale trimmed his chin and rubbed his beard. "Why did Wyll have to trigger the butterfly effect by helping Ethel carry the potion crates? Couldn't he have told her to find someone else to do it for her? Then none of this would probably have happened," the wizard sighed, before shaking his head and answering his own question, "but Wyll is too nice for that."

"Yes, that's right, he's too nice for that”, Saulus nodded in true agreement, because no others words could be truer and at least for that thing, they could be sure at the end of this lunatic day. The bard's nodding agreement turned slowly into a perplexed stare, and the smile on Saulus' lips disappeared. Gale's statement had set in motion a thought process that spread burningly in her flaming eyes beneath her horns.

From the outside, little was discernible from the gears that were loudly turning and squeaking inside her brain, only her twitching expressions and furrowed brows.

"Karlach!" the Tiefling suddenly broke out of her trance, almost startling the rest with her abrupt intervention, since they had, of course, continued their conversation when Saulus had mentally checked out. "Punch Wyll in the stomach!"

"What?!" Karlach hissed in disbelief, her face twisting in confusion. "Fuck, no!"

"You have to punch him in the stomach as hard as you can!" the horned bard continued to insist vehemently.

The remaining companions frowned, no less confused, not understanding what she was getting at or what this was all about. What good would knocking Wyll out do now? Or was she so euphoric that she was taking resentful revenge for the incident in the goblin camp?

"I won't punch Wyll," Karlach shook her head in incomprehension without even a second's hesitation. The opposite of this was Lae'zel, who stepped forward boldly, her practiced and steely Githyanki fist already clenched and raised as a monument, a metonymy of determined hardness and pain:

"I'll do it!"

Only a spell of 'time stop' could have later said which came first: Lae'zel's fist burying itself in Wyll's gut with a dull thud, or the wide-eyed looks of the other companions in completely useless attempts to move, to avert the inevitable. Then Ravengard's full breath, which the Githyanki warrior had punched out of him and which, with a pain-filled choking, then caught halfway in his throat.

Wyll coughed and choked under the force of Lae'zel's fist, which probably wanted to pierce his gut. He spat briefly, and there was a clunking sound from the ground.

"Lae'zel!" Gale and Aristen shouted in unison, supporting poor Wyll, who was almost about to fall forward. The groaning sounds he made, far from the Blade of Frontiers, now reminded him more of a zombie, thanks to the Githyanki warrior.

Sparkling ruby ​​eyes watched the proceedings with undeniable glee.

A throwback to Chaos.

"Lae'zel, didn't you want to know why we should hit Wyll?" Karlach raised an eyebrow as she patted the slowly rising Blade on the back reassuringly.

"Chk, what for?" she hissed, unfazed. "Besides, he took it all right and is still standing. Not everyone can say that after taking a blow from a Githyanki."

"Perhaps you could say that a little less maliciously," Astarion's voice intervened, smugly and unhelpfully.

"Yes, as the right person is saying that," Shadowheart's accusatory wit caught him.

A finger raised in the air interrupted the banter:

"Wyll would like to know why he should be punched," he said, groaning.

"I assume it was about that," Astarion's finger, as treacherously as his swirling tongue, pointed to the ground, "whatever landed on the floor with such a nice 'clank' after Wyll spat it out."

However, his attentive silver-curled head with crimson-red eyes that missed nothing was only the second to bend down, observing.

Hazel eyes of Gale were the first to, along with Saulus, examine the object that had been pried out by the blow to the warlock's stomach, somewhat suspiciously.

"By Mystra's waving robe, what is that?!"

"Why don't you let Astarion hold it? I thought sticky fluids are his thing," Shadowheart's snarky comment was almost missed under the nonchalant, casual tone of her voice. But only almost.

"Um, EXCUSE YOU?!" It wasn't even remotely offended, the way Astarion's voice shot up several octaves as his elven face twisted in a completely unelven inelegant way.

If Shadowheart's comment hadn't been so mean, Aristen would have almost laughed at how much Astarion now looked like an exotic shorthair cat, the way he pulled his nose. Instead, she suppressed a laugh and eyed the round thing with the others, which, "thanks" to Lae'zel's blow, was no longer in Wyll. Because apparently, it definitely had no business being there.

"Is that from Auntie Ethel?" she preferred to concentrate on that.

"That looks like one of her talismans to me," Gale agreed with the blond sorceress, nodding, his brow still furrowed in thoughtful analysis.

"One of her evil hag eye boogaloos. That in the stomach of our warlock, and there she has a deviant, head-over-heels puppy. No offense, Wyll," the Wizard of Waterdeep added afterwards.

"So she lied to us?"

"Big surprise: A hag lied! Quite shocking," Astarion did an act of pure sarcasm with tone and face.

"But why poising him with her spells and her charms? That does not make any sense," Shadowheart interjected logically.

"Because she didn't do it on purpose, just as she didn't lie to us. It was all a stupid coincidence, I think," Saulus the bard spoke again. "I think Wyll swallowed the hag talisman by accident. And didn't notice or think about it, because he's just too nice."

"And how the fuck that, lil pup soldier?"

"Gale pointed it out to me: Okta's cooking pot is right next to Auntie Ethel's potion stand. You remember how she offered us her gray porridge to keep us fed? If one of her cursed hag's eye trinkets accidentally fell into the pot and landed right in Wyll's bowl, he'd never complain about how disgusting it tasted or that he'd bitten into something hard and weird. He'd just swallow it and eat it because he's too polite to tell an old cook that the emergency ration she's sharing with us tastes horrible and inedible."

"In the name of Lady Shar, and that's what you thought of?"

"Like I said: It's Gale who thought of it and brought it to my attention," she smiled appreciatively in Gale's direction, "he knew it was Wyll's decency that triggered the butterfly effect. I just brought up the suggestion for boxing."

The Tiefling let out a short laugh, which was reflected in her eyes and almost to the tips of her horns, if that were possible.

"No wonder this whole love spell or curse — however you might call it — was so powerful and effective with this double enchantment. Truly most interesting. Again, no offense, Wyll," Gale analyzed.

"We can be glad he's doing so well after such a double enchantment. I mean, there could have been a danger that this dose of Fey magic would have blown his brains out," Aristen frowned, glad that The Blade of Frontiers had once again proven itself resilient. Another scar? One that wasn't visible?

"How do you feel, Wyll?" Karlach leaned over to the young Ravengard to check the most important things. Did he remember everything? Was it really all over now?

"Gods...What did she — ?" He shook his horned head vigorously "I am fine, Karlach. Only...only ashamed. I remember. All of it. What happened," he shivered, grimacing over his face, "and especially how I behaved towards you. Disgraceful. You were on my side the whole time. Most of you."

"Yes, especially me! Don't forget that!" the rogue grinned broadly from the background, his fangs bared, to emphasize once again that he didn't like Wyll, even though he, like everyone else, had been on board the whole time. His motives notwithstanding. He might fool himself; it had only been out of curiosity. They wouldn't just leave each other behind like that. None of them, for any reason.

"You're back, my friend. Good we have our blade not hanging loosely on our side, only a shell left of their former self. We need you. For everything to come. And we need you as you are for yourself, Wyll. Your words of courage and balance went missing these days," smiled Gale gently and visibly relieved.

"No! Let's see if this is really over," snapped Astarion and he dragged the slightly protesting Wyll into sight of the old Tiefling cook Okta, where he pointed at her out of hearing reach, "now: Would you do her?"

“Astarion, what?!”

“Answer the question!”

“Well NO!”

“Then everything is fine again,” the elf nodded happily and let go of the warlock, who grumbled about the vampire, adjusting his collar, but the Tiefling bard was already grinning her way into Astarion's world and tilting her head toward him.

"Would you do her?" she asked with a voice that suppressed a joking giggling.

"What?" he snapped offended at her.

"Would you do her then? It seemed like you just wanted to make sure you eliminated any competition," she continued, grinning with her Tiefling fangs over both of her pointed, pierced ears.

"Haha, Saulus, you absolute freak, how dare you," Astarion said, jutting his sharp chin in mock offense, before a grin spread across his lips and his ruby-red eyes squinted back at her amusedly, because he actually always found her humorous comments and jokes quite funny.

"Okay, let's just agree that no one finds out about this," Wyll sighed, putting a hand over his face that he buried and wished would never resurface, and he began to shake his head vigorously in shame, "okay?"

"I don't know, Wyll, you said a few things there, maybe you should stick to those insights. They weren't bad, there's still something to be learned from them," Shadowheart suggested him playfully.

"Guys!"

"We won't say anything," the others reassured him.

"I wish I could forget and burn my eyes out," moaned Ravengard, who, as a self-proclaimed monster hunter with a reputation, clearly had problems with everything that happened. He was traveling with a Tiefling - who should have been killed by him due to his pact  - as well as a vampire spawn. He was getting further and further away from a path...which was probably nothing but meaningless words and smoke and mirrors. Because meaning had virtue in what one gave meaning.

"Our dream visitor could erase our memories," Saulus interjected, completely casually.

"What can they do?! How do you know that?!" Astarion practically jumped up, which made the bard blink uncertainly as if she'd said something she shouldn't.

"What did they delete before? Saulus, answer me!" the vampire shook her, while the Tiefling clenched her teeth.

"I am just glad it is over," the warlock continued seriously, skillfully ignoring the nonsensical commotion of the two pointy-eared, sharp-toothed creatures in the background, "it is so that it seems I am always on a leash. It seems I should be used to it."

A deep sigh escaped his lips and the young Duke’s son cast his gaze to the ground.

What did he learn from this story?

"Ah soldier, don't be sad. We keep an eye on you. Everything will be better, I promise," the barbarian smiled, her big, famous, beautiful Karlach smile on him.

"You deserve better, Wyll. Like we all," Gale nodded at him.

"You really do, Wyll," Aristen smiled gently.

Shrugging shoulders lifted beneath white curls: "Look at it this way, now you have experience and great pick-up lines if you really find someone hot."

"Astarion, I think it would be appropriate if you just kept your mouth shut," Gale said in a pleasant tone, yet pleasant. Already speaking Fireball in his mind.

"Gods, you're all sensitive today."

The vampire's snippy tongue and the rest of the banter were interrupted by the familiar scratching sound of a quill on parchment, absorbing ink.

The bard was writing far too eagerly in her little book.

"Um, Saulus, what are you writing?" Wyll asked, slightly alarmed, and suspicious glances slid in her direction.

With a bright, enthusiastic look, she held out her bard's book:

"My latest song: Hag's Love."

➹a/n:  Like so often, what I did is the fault of Agata 😁 My partner in crime 😉 Love ya my darling 😘 She said write a rare pair.  That is what I made out if it 😄

So it is a bit of the March AU prompt as well, because it as an alternative or parallel camp with two Tavs 😉 But I wanted for my Saulus and her Aristen to get to know each other and have a little adventure together 😁

And because they are both there, there is no flirting with Astarion or mentioning who is with him 😉 For the pansexual polygamous Saulus it would be no problem at all to have a relationship as three 😄😂 But the heterosexual monogamous Aristen would to have some loud words to say about that, so nothing will come of it 😆🤣

Did you hear that, Halsin! This especially applies to you! Get out of bushes! No threesomes for you! 😆😆😆

(I don’t now why it is my headcanon that Halsin lurkes in bushes for couples to jump on threesomes 🤣 He brought this upon himself! 😂)

(P.S.: I imagined Aristen coming to the rescue of Saulus when Astarion shook her at the end.)

I said No Wylls war harmed in the writing of this fic…well maybe a little bit 😅 (*looking at Lae’zel*)

P.S.: Sorry to everyone who expected hardcore hot Wyll x Ethel moments 😆🤣

[santuario1]

I'm finally doing a proper introduction of my 'of mice and men’ OC, Martín Radomír‼️ (His name was inspired by Saint Martin de Porres, a Peruvian Catholic saint!🇵🇪) His lore isn't exactly finished, but I wanted to share his character so far and in different parts! So this one will be his family relationship and how his experiences have shaped him so far.

I have a link to his timeline/background info and how he managed to immigrate to the U.S HERE (yes it's on Wattpad, I had this OC since freshman year and use Wattpad as more of a planning/drafting since this year I decided to update his lore+character]) I highly suggest reading that first so the explanation below makes more sense but do wtv!!

I tried to summarize as best as I could but I honestly SUCK at writing so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense or sounds vague

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On April 21, 1914, Martín Radomír was born in the city of Paita in Peru.

At 4, his family left Peru in February 1919 for Panama. Throughout Martín’s early childhood, his Father Andrés worked tirelessly, leaving little time to spend with his family, making Martín’s relationship with him feel voided. Still, Martín appreciated everything his father did to provide for him and his Mom. In contrast, Rosá and Martín formed a strong bond. Although Rosá felt a better role model would ideally be his father, worried Martín would turn out ‘softer’ than most boys, she used the time to teach Martín basic manners, scraps of education she learned, writing, and cooking that connected back to their Peruvian roots despite living in Panama. She often tried to get Martín to hang out with children his age but was quite bashful and reserved. Rosá's influence on Martín caused him to become more empathetic and emotionally intelligent. 

1925, Martín’s family moved after Andrés lost his job at the canals due to the protests in Panama. Their new goal was to reach the U.S. along with a group that encouraged the journey for a better opportunity. The travel was grueling and dangerous, but they pushed on for months. 1926 when they made it to Guatemala, Rosá, including the other people in their travel group, passed away due to malaria when Martín was only 12. Martín didn’t want to go on completely devastated, but Andrés knew this journey was for his family, for Martín to have a chance for something better. So they continued without them. As months went by, Martín would randomly and vividly picture every detail of his mother from the day she passed, fearing he would forget what she’d look like. As for Andrés, whenever he stared at Martín, his face began to slowly resemble the same features as Rosá.

During 1928 Andrés and Martín made it to Mexico. At 14 Martín began to work with his dad on the Haciendas. Andrés and Martín's relationship evolved slowly since the loss of Rosá. Initially, Andrés held a firm and stolid demeanor, defined by the years of hard labor he’d experienced. But as they worked together, Andrés prioritized sticking close to Martín and shaping him to the reality of the work environment. Martín was awfully scrawny due to low nutrients and lack of activity in his early development. So Andrés taught Martín how to manage hard labor and build endurance, improving his physical abilities in the Haciendas and gaining experience in agricultural work. Martín learned to become resilient and perseverance in laborious tasks.

Timeskip/quick summary → In June 1929, 15 y.o Martín and Andrés arrived in the U.S. in Arizona. From their time there, Martín learns some English, while Andrés struggles. They also find out how scary white Americans are. August 1929 The Great Depression and Mexican Repatriation Act increased the risk for Martín and Andrés. January 1930, Andrés stole from a bakery out of hunger, causing a mob. Martín and Andrés train-hopped to flee Arizona, taking them to California. Months still searching for a job, in May 1930 Martín is now 16, and Andrés finally got work slips for him and Martín to Tyler ranch.

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Spoiler Andrés dies!!!!!Sorry Martín!!!!!!! Uh, this is all I got for now, In my next post I’ll explain the cause + Impact of Andrés death, the dress Martín wears, and how Martín met George and Lennie + the relationships he forms with the people on the ranch

Also my Chromebook is like actually broken broken💔 so I’m borrowing my moms so I can still draw since I can just log into my acc. Also my sibling let me have their tablet since they don't use it anymore (ty) but I CAN FINALLY DRAW SO YAY I'll make new art but for now I'll continue to post art I made a while ago

Martín art dump!!

[sapphiretanto]

Okay, as much as I love the positive Rise x 2012 crossover comics/drawings and fanfics where Rise helps 2012 with their problems, there is no way the boys would start crying or talking about their physical and mental scars upon the first meeting. They wouldn’t be open for hugs (maybe Mikey, but that’s the only one I can see). 2012 went through the ringer and no amount of Dr. Feelings/Dr. Delicate Touch is gonna help that. Here’s what Rise would have to help 2012 work through both individually and altogether:

**Please look at the “Altogether” section before notifying me if I forgot one; Otherwise, I may have genuinely forgot… this was all from what I can remember

**This is NOT bashing the fics, art, Rottmnt.

Leonardo

Possessed/Controlled (Parasitica, Buried Secrets, China Town Ghost Story)

Burdened with being the leader/eldest/Sensei

Right knee is fucked

Dislocated shoulder and arms (both causes of his arms being Super Shredder)

Weakened heart from when he died in space and was resuscitated

Has fallen off multiple high points (elevator shafts, rooftops, fire escapes)

Hands are most likely damaged from holding onto the chains that were wrapped around Kraang prime

Was in a 3-month coma

Throat was ruined

Was bitten by Armaggon

Hit by a blast meant to take out Hiidrala (The Cosmic Ocean)

Deal with having slain Shredder

Captured

Was thrown through a second story window

Cracked shell

Training/Battle injuries: hits on the head, kicks to the plastron or carapace, thrown into buildings or debris, pressure pointed

Under way too much pressure

Almost cut up by swords (Fourfold Trap)

Struggles with perfectionism; he’ll often feel at fault or like he failed for things out of his control (i.e. when Karai fell into the mutagen)

Frustrated as he doesn’t always get a lot of respect (particularly in the earlier seasons)

Took some bad advice from Splinter to heart— most of the time it added to the burden he carried as the leader

Betrayed by Karai

Raphael

Possessed/Controlled (Parasitica, brain worm, vampire, Chinatown Ghost Story)

Has watched those he cared about fallen from high places (Spike/Slash, Splinter, Zog, Leo)

Had to deal with his phobia (Cockroach Terminator, Insecta Trifecta)

Switched bodies

Lightning bolt plastron crack

Captured (and tortured - Clash of the Mutanimals, Within the Woods)

Betrayed by his girlfriend

Electrocuted

Nearly cooked to death (Fourfold Trap)

Swallowed squirrelanoids

Lost Spike to mutation

Nearly had to give away Chompy

Fell from various high heights (ravines)

Anger issues

Felt unfavored compared to Leo

Training/Battle injuries: hits on the head, kicks to the plastron or carapace, thrown into buildings or debris, pressure pointed

Watched Splinter be thrown into a sewer drain and nearly drown

Watched Spike/Slash, Zog, and Splinter fall off/be thrown off the rooftops

Donatello

Possessed/controlled (Parasitica, Buried Secrets, a car)

Electrocuted

Captured

Nearly cut up by Vizioso’s goons

Watched Splinter be thrown into a sewer drain and nearly drown

Lost metalhead

Under too much pressure

Burdened by being the only tech/science guy

Struggles sometimes with the fact that he’s a mutant

Struggles with his weapon— not handling, but that it is very simplistic compared to some of the more high tech things they deal with

Has his experiments ruined or messed with

Became mindless

Training/Battle injuries: hits on the head, kicks to the plastron or carapace, thrown into buildings or debris, pressure pointed

Has to change his jargon so his family can understand what he’s saying

Michelangelo

Captured

Tortured by Triceratons

Frustrated as he’s not always taken seriously

Mind invaded by neutrinos

Possessed/Contolled (Chinatown Ghost Story, Buried Secrets)

Struggles sometimes with accepting that he’s a mutant (earlier seasons— wanted various human friends besides April and Casey)

Swallowed by Mega Shredder

Burned his ass on a geyser (Eyes of the Chimera)

Betrayed by Bradford

Watched Splinter be thrown into a sewer drain and nearly drown

Training/Battle injuries: hits on the head (is hit a lot more than the others on the head in combat), kicks to the plastron or carapace, thrown into buildings or debris, pressure pointed

Was alone in Dimension X for an unknown amount of time

Nearly drowned (Invasion of the Squirrelanoids)

Knowingly/unknowingly and sometimes unwillingly made the bait or drew the short straw

Separated from Leatherhead

Altogether

Saw Master Splinter die (twice)

Watched their dad fall into the abyss (The Super Shredder/Darkest Plight)

Saw their world be destroyed

Survived multiple invasions (Kraang, Triceratons, Kavaxas, Dregg)

Saw their sister fall into mutagen

Fought various horrifying/disgusting mutants (Mom Thing, Squirrelanoids, The Creep, Parasitica, Dregg’s bugs, mutated cockroach, Snakeweed, Muckman, Rat King, mutated fungi, Don Vizioso, April clones/April Derp etc)

Witnessed each other’s deaths: Raph drained of mutagen in Within the Woods; Donnie - reduced to molecules in The Power Inside Her; Leo - died in space in Earth’s Last Stand; Mikey - vaporized by K’Vathrak/The Newtralizer in When Worlds Collide

Witnessed various other deaths: Bradford/Rahzar/Dog Pound, Tang Shen, Hattori Tatsu

Have had their minds taken over

Poisoned by Karai

Electrocuted

Nearly froze to death (Moons of Thalos 3)

Inhaled hallucinogenic toxins

Survived various explosions

Survivor’s guilt

Have been fighting in multiple rigged or burning buildings

Almost burned up entering the atmosphere (Battle for New York)

Had a “nightmare”— courtesy of Jei—where they were the last ones standing after their brothers had been killed

Witnessed the undead (Shredder, Rahzar, various spirits)

Possessed/controlled by Jei; dream beavers

Dimensional and Time travel

Had to fight each other or their friends unwillingly

Went no contact with April after having a hand in accidentally mutating her dad

Severe injuries from various opponents (Slash, Tiger Claw, Newtralizer, Super Shredder, footbots/chrome domes)

[helloescapist]

Comforting You Headcanons | Giyuu Tomioka

Word Count: 1166

Setting: Giyuu Tomioka x gn!reader [established relationship], SFW, general comfort headcannons

Content Warnings: none 🌊

This is subject to updates as the mood hits me.

[image is not my own, it's from the anime Fruits Baskets/Furuba!]

Giyuu wants to comfort his partner. He would want to sooth any aches, and heart aches you may have. Whether it’s difficulties at work, physical pain, emotional, or mental, he really does care about you. Being comforted by Giyuu will be a struggle—he WANTS to take care of you.

He does, but in truth, it may take some time for him to realize that something is wrong. If you were to come in like a storm, it would probably panic him, and he’d likely think it was him who had upset you. In which case, he’ll spend hours trying to figure out what it was, and how he can mend it. Did he forget something important? Did you ask him to take care of something and it slipped his mind? The trash? Did he say something thoughtlessly? He will spiral into an anxiety driven state, and do whatever he crosses his mind. Included a sincere apology, head bowed and all.

If you’re the type to silently hurt, well, it will take him time to figure out that’s something wrong. It will be the small things that add up. Skipping breakfast, avoiding eye contact, going to bed early, the tone of your voice, easily distracted, etc, it will be a BUNCH of small things piling up before it clicks in his head that something is bothering you. If it were only one or two discrepancies in your normal day, he’s just going to assume that you’re busy, or tired. However, if he begins to notice multiple differences, he’s going to begin to fret. Does he say something? Rub your back?

Giyuu’s comfort would be soft, and indirect. Like the sunshine on a spring morning, and as gentle as the April weather. Desperate to break the chill of winter, but unsure how to do so. Like the beginning of spring, the small compilation of acts that verify its arrival. That’s how the Water Hashira would express his love, and how he would comfort you as well.

The first round of attempts will be a lot like the beginning stages of his love (maybe even the later aspects as well, he’s reliable). Small acts of affection. Nothing lavish (he’s not Tengen!). In fact, it’s probably things that you’re at risk of overlooking, especially if you’re upset, but still, he’ll do them without a complaint.

It would be making you tea/coffee first thing in the morning when sleep has escaped you, and you fretted over things that he’s not sure if he should ask about, or if you’re not ready to discuss. The tossing and turning of your sleep is sure to have him rise a little bit earlier to ensure that a cup will be waiting for you.

It would be saving the last piece of castella cake, just for you on a bad day. Whether it’s from a coworker, a bad memory, or just an off day. The cake will be there waiting for you. An added strawberry, or fruit you like if they’re in season.

Comfort = care in Tomioka’s world.

Unspoken, indirect, but always present. Pleasant and cool to the touch like the cool side of a pillow the middle of a summer night. Subtle, but always elicits the exhale of relief and comfort.

Giyuu’s comfort would be hesitation brought on by devotion. Far too bashful to initiate physical contact. He really, REALLY doesn't want to mess this up. Sympathetic glances, unsure of how to make the first move. Such as a hug—he’s going to do it. J-just give him a moment. Like this? He may need reassurance that it’s what you’re needing, and as he settles into being more familiar and comfortable with your needs, he will happily and dutifully rise to meet them. Without a second thought, it would eventually become second nature to him. Until then, physical contact would be an awkwardly placed head pat, but he tried. In fact, a big portion of his comforting you, will be trial and error. He means well.

If the situation was work related, Giyu would likely be at a loss. He still wants to help, he does. In a modern setting, he would respect the more traditional aspect of business (he knows that he cannot show up to your place of work and throw a tantrum), and in the Demon Slayer Corps, he knows that everyone falls into a hierarchy, but rest assured he is watching. Whether it’s meeting you at the end of a work day to walk you home, or in such cases where a coworker is pushing boundaries (*ahem* Masao), Giyuu will ensure to safeguard your boundaries.

Don’t get me wrong, I think Giyuu would be a wonderful source of emotional support. As the years go by, the relationship grows, and maturity hits him, I believe that Giyuu would listen to you whether you needed to yell, vent, confess, or even sob into his kimono, but it will take time. He has the makings now, he does, but at the same time, Giyuu lives in his head, and it may be difficult for him to gather the courage to initiate this. If you take the first step, he will comply without a second thought. Collapse into his chest, sobbing, and he will be startled and a little stiff, but sure enough, he will hold you in his arms. Collapse you into an embrace, rub your back (all while wondering if he’s doing this right).

Until then. Be patient.

He’s worried that he’ll do something wrong, and become burdensome. So, he’ll just settle for taking something off of your plate to ensure that you have just one less thing to worry about.

If the Water Hashira was under the impression that the housework had been the source of your frustration (that one task you just hate like the dishes, or perhaps it’s just too much, you’re overwhelmed), he would take it over without a second thought. Without saying anything.

Understand, Giyuu wants to help, he really does. To him, you are everything, and he wants to do right by you. Really, the best course of action (for your relationship in general) would to be honest and TELL him what you want/need. It’s not a burden really, don’t worry it’s not demanding. No, in fact, he would feel so relieved.  He wants to do right by you. But, if you have not quite met that stage of your relationship where you have laid everything out in black and white (make a note to do so soon), and know that while he may not have the best of how to do so, he’s doing his best.

So, don’t worry. Your plants have been watered, and your pets have been cared for (he has the scratches/nibbles to show for it). He’ll pick up groceries, fill the fridge. Ensure that snacks are ready for when you’ve managed an appetite. Bills will be paid, and the house will be maintained.

Don’t worry.

Take your time.

He’s here for you.

[dhr-ao3]

The Fact is... I Love You

The Fact is... I Love You https://ift.tt/BaqLEDJ by MommaStanberry Draco Malfoy has been a Professor at Hogwarts for 5 years following a 2 year internship under Slughorn, when Headmistress McGonagall calls him into his office to inform him she had found a replacement for Professor Binns. Hermione Granger, freshly resigned from her head position at the Ministry will be arriving the following day. McGonagall, suspicious of her sudden career end and Ron Weasley's involvement asks Draco to keep an eye on her. Words: 4123, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley Additional Tags: Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Hogwarts Professors, Smitten Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley Bashing, Implied/Referenced Infidelity, Not Acted Upon, probably, most likely, harry potter is a great friend, Domestic Violence, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse, Smut is WAY Down the Line via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/gRTV5HF April 01, 2025 at 01:05AM

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update:

In the midst of writing the epilogue to Possession and thrilled to announce that I hit 100k words total earlier today. That will make Possession my first fic to crack that mark. Did I really write all of that? Incredible! 😳

Omega!Eddie is nearing the finish line as well (currently writing the final scene) and will start posting of 4 April (keep your eyes peeled for the official preview!) 👀

Chapter 1 of The King's Gift is also nearing completion. @house-of-the-moving-image and I will iron out a launch date that works with both of our private and work lifes soon, so stay tuned. 💖

Send me an emoji and I'll write and share three sentences from that fic.

🦇Possession 🔥I burn for you (you burn for me) [omega!Eddie] 🏰The King's Gift

Snippet from 🏰

“Oh,” Eddie says, perking up in his window seat. “You said you were touring different castles or something! So that makes you a prince or a noble at least, right? Part of a royal entourage? Oh, wait, are you some sort of knight or paladin? A warlock?” 

“Um …” Steve says intelligently. His head is starting to hurt again. This entire conversation feels like he’s talking gibberish at a bunch of crazy people who are only fluent in mumbo jumbo. “Sorry, I dunno what- … I’m a taurus, I think?” 

Eddie’s entire face crinkles with confusion, and Steve feels a red-hot blush erupting from his frilly collar. 

“What my nephew is trying to ask,” Wayne speaks up, and Steve envies the man his patience, he really does, “is if you are trained in some form of combat. Armed, magical, weaponless?” 

Steve can physically feel the confused groove splitting his forehead. Combat? What the fuck? The only thing that springs to mind is that one time he got in a drunken argument with Tommy at one of Heather Holloway’s parties and bashed his nose in on her front lawn, but somehow he doesn’t think that is the question. 

“I was on the swim team,” he provides, voice small. “Basketball, too. Listen, I believe this is some sort of mistake. I dunno who you guys think I am, but I’m not … some sort of knight or a fucking walrus or whatever. I’m just some guy.” 

[this-week-in-rust]

This Week in Rust 599

Hello and welcome to another issue of This Week in Rust! Rust is a programming language empowering everyone to build reliable and efficient software. This is a weekly summary of its progress and community. Want something mentioned? Tag us at @thisweekinrust.bsky.social on Bluesky or @ThisWeekinRust on mastodon.social, or send us a pull request. Want to get involved? We love contributions.

This Week in Rust is openly developed on GitHub and archives can be viewed at this-week-in-rust.org. If you find any errors in this week's issue, please submit a PR.

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Updates from Rust Community

Official

Announcing Google Summer of Code 2025 selected projects

Foundation

10 Years of Stable Rust: An Infrastructure Story

Newsletters

This Month in Rust OSDev: April 2025 | Rust OSDev

The Embedded Rustacean Issue #45

Project/Tooling Updates

Avian Physics 0.3

Two months in Servo: CSS nesting, Shadow DOM, Clipboard API, and more

Cot v0.3: Even Lazier

Streaming data analytics, Fluvio 0.17.3 release

CGP v0.4 is Here: Unlocking Easier Debugging, Extensible Presets, and More

Rama v0.2

Observations/Thoughts

Bad Type Patterns - The Duplicate duck

Rust nightly features you should watch out for

Lock-Free Rust: How to Build a Rollercoaster While It’s on Fire

Simple & type-safe localization in Rust

From Rust to AVR assembly: Dissecting a minimal blinky program

Tarpaulins Week Of Speed

Rustls Server-Side Performance

Is Rust the Future of Programming?

Rust Walkthroughs

Functional asynchronous Rust

The Power of Compile-Time ECS Architecture in Rust

[video] Build with Naz : Spinner animation, lock contention, Ctrl+C handling for TUI and CLI

Miscellaneous

April 2025 Rust Jobs Report

Crate of the Week

This week's crate is brush, a bash compatible shell implemented completely in Rust.

Thanks to Josh Triplett for the suggestion!

Please submit your suggestions and votes for next week!

Calls for Testing

An important step for RFC implementation is for people to experiment with the implementation and give feedback, especially before stabilization.

If you are a feature implementer and would like your RFC to appear in this list, add a call-for-testing label to your RFC along with a comment providing testing instructions and/or guidance on which aspect(s) of the feature need testing.

No calls for testing were issued this week by Rust, Rust language RFCs or Rustup.

Let us know if you would like your feature to be tracked as a part of this list.

RFCs

Rust

Rustup

If you are a feature implementer and would like your RFC to appear on the above list, add the new call-for-testing label to your RFC along with a comment providing testing instructions and/or guidance on which aspect(s) of the feature need testing.

Call for Participation; projects and speakers

CFP - Projects

Always wanted to contribute to open-source projects but did not know where to start? Every week we highlight some tasks from the Rust community for you to pick and get started!

Some of these tasks may also have mentors available, visit the task page for more information.

rama - add ffi/rama-rhai: support ability to use services and layers written in rhai

rama - support akamai h2 passive fingerprint and expose in echo + fp services

If you are a Rust project owner and are looking for contributors, please submit tasks here or through a PR to TWiR or by reaching out on X (formerly Twitter) or Mastodon!

CFP - Events

Are you a new or experienced speaker looking for a place to share something cool? This section highlights events that are being planned and are accepting submissions to join their event as a speaker.

No Calls for papers or presentations were submitted this week.

If you are an event organizer hoping to expand the reach of your event, please submit a link to the website through a PR to TWiR or by reaching out on X (formerly Twitter) or Mastodon!

Updates from the Rust Project

397 pull requests were merged in the last week

Compiler

async drop fix for async_drop_in_place<T> layout for unspecified T

better error message for late/early lifetime param mismatch

perf: make the assertion in Ident::new debug-only

perf: merge typeck loop with static/const item eval loop

Library

implement (part of) ACP 429: add DerefMut to Lazy[Cell/Lock]

implement VecDeque::truncate_front()

Cargo

network: use Retry-After header for HTTP 429 responses

rustc: Don't panic on unknown bins

add glob pattern support for known_hosts

add support for -Zembed-metadata

fix tracking issue template link

make cargo script ignore workspaces

Rustdoc

rustdoc-json: remove newlines from attributes

ensure that temporary doctest folder is correctly removed even if doctests failed

Clippy

clippy: item_name_repetitions: exclude enum variants with identical path components

clippy: return_and_then: only lint returning expressions

clippy: unwrap_used, expect_used: accept macro result as receiver

clippy: add allow_unused config to missing_docs_in_private_items

clippy: add new confusing_method_to_numeric_cast lint

clippy: add new lint: cloned_ref_to_slice_refs

clippy: fix ICE in missing_const_for_fn

clippy: fix integer_division false negative for NonZero denominators

clippy: fix manual_let_else false negative when diverges on simple enum variant

clippy: fix unnecessary_unwrap emitted twice in closure

clippy: fix diagnostic paths printed by dogfood test

clippy: fix false negative for unnecessary_unwrap

clippy: make let_with_type_underscore help message into a suggestion

clippy: resolve through local re-exports in lookup_path

Rust-Analyzer

fix postfix snippets duplicating derefs

resolve doc path from parent module if outer comments exist on module

still complete parentheses & method call arguments if there are existing parentheses, but they are after a newline

Rust Compiler Performance Triage

Lot of changes this week. Overall result is positive, with one large win in type check.

Triage done by @panstromek. Revision range: 62c5f58f..718ddf66

Summary:

(instructions:u) mean range count Regressions ❌ (primary) 0.5% [0.2%, 1.4%] 113 Regressions ❌ (secondary) 0.5% [0.1%, 1.5%] 54 Improvements ✅ (primary) -2.5% [-22.5%, -0.3%] 45 Improvements ✅ (secondary) -0.9% [-2.3%, -0.2%] 10 All ❌✅ (primary) -0.3% [-22.5%, 1.4%] 158

Full report here

Approved RFCs

Changes to Rust follow the Rust RFC (request for comments) process. These are the RFCs that were approved for implementation this week:

No RFCs were approved this week.

Final Comment Period

Every week, the team announces the 'final comment period' for RFCs and key PRs which are reaching a decision. Express your opinions now.

Tracking Issues & PRs

Rust

Tracking Issue for non_null_from_ref

Add std::io::Seek instance for std::io::Take

aarch64-softfloat: forbid enabling the neon target feature

Stabilize the avx512 target features

make std::intrinsics functions actually be intrinsics

Error on recursive opaque ty in HIR typeck

Remove i128 and u128 from improper_ctypes_definitions

Guarantee behavior of transmuting Option::<T>::None subject to NPO

Temporary lifetime extension through tuple struct and tuple variant constructors

Stabilize tcp_quickack

Change the desugaring of assert! for better error output

Make well-formedness predicates no longer coinductive

No Items entered Final Comment Period this week for Cargo, Rust RFCs, Language Reference, Language Team or Unsafe Code Guidelines.

Let us know if you would like your PRs, Tracking Issues or RFCs to be tracked as a part of this list.

New and Updated RFCs

RFC: Extended Standard Library (ESL)

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Talk and Connect - Fullstack - with Goetz Markgraf and Ben Wishovich

2025-05-20 | Virtual (London, UK) | Women in Rust

Threading through lifetimes of borrowing - the Rust way

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Rust at Work a conversation with Ran Reichman Co-Founder & CEO of Flarion

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Linking

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2025-05-25 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust User Meetup

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Fourth Tuesday

2025-05-27 | Virtual (Tel Aviv, IL) | Code Mavens 🦀 - 🐍 - 🐪

Rust at Work - conversation with Eli Shalom & Igal Tabachnik of Eureka Labs

2025-05-29 | Virtual (Nürnberg, DE) | Rust Nuremberg

Rust Nürnberg online

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שיחה חופשית ווירטואלית על ראסט

2025-06-01 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust User Meetup

Rust Readers Discord Discussion: Async Rust

2025-06-03 | Virtual (Tel Aviv-yafo, IL) | Rust 🦀 TLV

Why Rust? למה ראסט? -

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Indy.rs - with Social Distancing

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Rust Readers Discord Discussion: Async Rust

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👋 Community Catch Up

Asia

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Rust Delhi Meetup #10

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In person Rust June 2025 at AWS in Tel Aviv

Europe

2025-05-13 - 2025-05-17 | Utrecht, NL | Rust NL

RustWeek 2025

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2025-05-15 | Berlin, DE | Rust Berlin

10 years anniversary of Rust 1.0

2025-05-15 | Oslo, NO | Rust Oslo

Rust 10-year anniversary @ Appear

2025-05-16 | Amsterdam, NL | RustNL

Rust Week Hackathon

2025-05-16 | Utrecht, NL | Rust NL Meetup Group

RustWeek Hackathon

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Walking Tour around Utrecht - Saturday

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2025-05-20 | Leipzig, SN, DE | Rust - Modern Systems Programming in Leipzig

Topic TBD

2025-05-22 | Augsburg, DE | Rust Augsburg

Rust meetup #13:A Practical Guide to Telemetry in Rust

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2025 Rust Talks Bern #3 @zentroom

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Rust meetup #77

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2025-05-27 | Basel, CH | Rust Basel

Rust Meetup #11 @ Letsboot Basel

2025-05-27 | Vienna, AT | Rust Vienna

Rust Vienna - May at Bitcredit 🦀

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Rust Hack'n'Learn at Kampen Bistro

2025-05-31 | Stockholm, SE | Stockholm Rust

Ferris' Fika Forum #12

2025-06-04 | Ghent, BE | Systems Programming Ghent

Grow smarter with embedded Rust

2025-06-04 | München, DE | Rust Munich

Rust Munich 2025 / 2 - Hacking Evening

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Oxford Rust and C++ social

2025-06-05 | München, DE | Rust Munich

Rust Munich 2025 / 2 - Hacking Evening

2025-06-11 | Reading, UK | Reading Rust Workshop

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North America

2025-05-15 | Hybrid (Redmond, WA, US) | Seattle Rust User Group

May, 2025 SRUG (Seattle Rust User Group) Meetup

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Using Rust For Web Series 2 : Why you, Yes You. Should use Hyperscript!

2025-05-15 | Hybrid (Redmond, WA, US) | Seattle Rust User Group

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Linking

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Rust-Atl

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Leptos web framework

South America

2025-05-28 | Montevideo, DE, UY | Rust Meetup Uruguay

Primera meetup de Rust de 2025!

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If you are running a Rust event please add it to the calendar to get it mentioned here. Please remember to add a link to the event too. Email the Rust Community Team for access.

Jobs

Please see the latest Who's Hiring thread on r/rust

Quote of the Week

If a Pin drops in a room, and nobody around understands it, does it make an unsound? #rustlang

– Josh Triplett on fedi

Thanks to Josh Triplett for the self-suggestion!

Please submit quotes and vote for next week!

This Week in Rust is edited by: nellshamrell, llogiq, cdmistman, ericseppanen, extrawurst, U007D, joelmarcey, mariannegoldin, bennyvasquez, bdillo

Email list hosting is sponsored by The Rust Foundation

Discuss on r/rust

[rolansrighthorn]

BG3 Backstory Bash by Kelandrin

This is a challenge to help people flesh out their Tav’s backstory by exploring their past. It is organized into four sections with seven prompts. You can treat this as a monthly challenge or a general project. You can write headcanons, fics, or share art based on the prompts! You can interpret the prompts however you want. If you want to share use the tag #bg3backstorybash

I saw their post of this and thought it would be fun to do! I am choosing to do Willow Hvithrafn in this post and may do Daryna Stalwart in another post, just as I did for the Get To Know Your Tav post (Daryna's, Willow's) I am going to tag a few people who may be interested in doing this, but this is not a tag game. You don't need to make your own post or tag others. @underdark-dreams @my-favourite-zhent @dustdeepsea @voloslobotomyservice @faerunsbest

Baby:

Parents: Human father named Mathias, high (moon) elf mother named Estre

Birth: A difficult, long labor for Estre in the middle of Spring (sometime in the month of Tarsakh (April in Earth months))

First word: "No"

When they first walked: Trying to go after Estre as she left to relieve some of her wanderlust, which was very frequently.

Tantrum: When Estre left yet again on her fourth birthday.

First sickness: Days after Estre left on her fourth birthday, Willow fell into a serious flu-like sickness for several weeks that left her alone with the healers at Lathander's monastery as her father did not want to "deal with it".

Thunderstorm: She disliked storms only because the stars were hidden, and stars were her only friends growing up.

Childhood:

Friends: Willow was very cold and distant from everyone growing up because of the neglect from her father and perceived repeated abandonment from her mother who was never quite present when with Willow. Due to this behavior, she never had any friends growing up.

Siblings: Willow is unaware, but she has two half sisters and her mother and father has a son who they love after she left home.

Getting into trouble: She often was spoken to and reprimanded for pushing or punching local and school bullies.

Birthday: Sometime in the latter part of Tarsakh in the spring.

Games: Willow has no patience nor any interest in games.

Learning something new: Unless it is related to combat, strength training, or something related, she has little to no interest. She is not unintelligent, but she isn't especially talented at anything either. She is just average.

Trauma: Her father neglected her, her mother was hardly ever around, she was bullied for emotionally struggling and for crying over everything to the point she grew cold and distant and emotionless until she met Geraldus.

Teenager:

First love: Willow never loved anyone until she met Geraldus as an adult.

Rebellion: Her "rebellious" phase was standing up for others to bullies and being physically violent with them.

Running away: Willow hated her mother's wanderlust and leaving so much she tries to suppress that part of her and viewed running away as the same thing. Although, she exhibits similar behavior by walking away/removing herself from uncomfortable situations.

Reckless behavior: Standing up to anyone and everyone who were mean, especially those who physically bullied others. Sometimes she would get hurt trying to defend others.

Peer pressure: She has never been subject to peer pressure as she never cared what others thought after she emotionally sealed herself off.

Growing pains: She had a lot of knee and lower back pain.

Taking responsibility: When it comes to protecting others, she is good with responsibility. But if she misbehaves or hurts an innocent she gets defensive out of embarrassment and will walk away/storm off.

Adulthood:

Their “first time”: Their first time will be with Geraldus, several months or so after they officially get together.

Serious relationships: Her one and only serious relationship will be with Geraldus.

Work: She is a Harper, and growing up she did side jobs (vermin extermination, pet sitting, etc) to get money to pay for a special weapon.

Leaving home: She left home at 20, joined the Harpers at 27.

Aging: Gracefully as she is a half high elf.

Finding their place: She only finds her "place" once she's accepted Geraldus in the others as a part of her life.

Staring a family/found family: Willow does not want to have children, and will never have any. Kava, a Dragonborn who joined the Harpers, is the only one she considers a friend, almost like a brother, and Geraldus is her love.

[rred-gaze]

(Chinhands) Tell me about your verdante headcanons

HI i have like. a lot of Jumbled Thoughts about them some of which aren’t even headcanons? idk. ill just throw everything here it’s gonna be long

thoughts on Canon interactions:

-the april fools event was fucking wild BUT there were crumbs like. the implication that they’re stuck together in every universe. vergilius clearly being worried while trying to fix them and telling off ishmael for bashing dante’s head in. shoving his hands in dante’s head and getting them covered in oil and grease. “i’d much rather have this glacial gaze over any other” HELLO? verdante surprisingly wasn’t very popular before but it fucking exploded after this which is GREAT for me because i was starving for years

-vergilius is bitchy in general but he seems to be Slightly nicer to dante. like when they have to revive the sinners for the first time he asks them gently at first (before threatening them when they refuse but still), he literally straight out says “you might be the only one on the bus i can actually converse with”, that part in canto 4.5 where he complains about having to talk with heathcliff and ishmael but after dante expresses their appreciation for it he gets a bit nicer about it and says they can consider it a favor

-vergilius can READ THEIR THOUGHTS? like they didn’t even say this out loud

-in addition to vergilius reading their thoughts dante eventually just expects to be understood by him despite him (supposedly) not being able to hear what they say. they both joke about their conversations being one-sided but. are they really. if a man can’t understand your words but reads your mind/expressions and responds to that in kind so you can properly have a conversation is it really one-sided

-vergilius fucking with them occasionally is very funny. sometimes he just says some long-winded poetic bullshit that just amounts to “fuck you im not explaining this to you” or just says that

-inferno red…red gaze…fuck you guys have matching colors for

actual headcanons ig (me just making shit up):

-they’re loser4loser vergilius in a miserable wet cat way dante in a trips over cracks in the concrete way

-i enjoy them in various forms, realistically i dont think they’d act on their feelings for each other but my favorite is where they kiss and heal because i NEED vergilius to let himself open up to someone so badly. everyone he was close to died </3

-it would take a LONG time for them to get close i think with vergilius. being how he is. he’s trying his best not to get close to anyone and it would be very hard to break down that barrier even a little bit but dante would be very patient with him

-due to aforementioned loved ones dying i think he’d be especially protective of dante and charon

-vergilius shows love very subtly and i think dante would pick up on it but maybe question his intentions or just Why at first

-vergilius seems very touched starved to me so if dante showed him any sort of physical affection he’d melt and lean into it like a very sad cat. i dont think he’d be for PDA at all though…if dante tries to hug him in public he just stands there and waits for them to stop

-i dont think vergilius would hug people often but i imagine him doing it in a really specific way for some reason. one arm around the waist with his face pressed into the shoulder and hair hanging down covering his face depressedly. i think he’d only do it if he was particularly sad and would only give them to dante, one of the children (including garnet and lapis/charon), or someone in his office

-something i noticed is that when he genuinely smiles it’s usually when no one else is looking. but what if dante got to see

-i think vergilius sleeps like garbage due to ptsd, he probably tends to have a lot of nightmares. being held by/holding dante may ease them just a little

-dante is very lost and confused and not very confident in theirself and i just like the idea of vergilius kind of giving them courage but in a very Him way yk what i mean. like when he said their performance has been decent recently

-expanding on how i like verdante kiss and heal vergilius not only carries so much grief and guilt with him at all times but thinks he deserves it for all the horrible things he’s done. he doesn’t even think he deserves to be loved and suffers in silence. he hasn’t talked to anyone about this. opening up to dante about it wouldn’t fix him but i think it’d make him feel a bit better at least. i want SOMEONE to tell him that he doesn’t need to suffer any more than he has and deserves to be cared for. i want vergilius to tell them about the people he cared about so deeply and for someone to see how much love he has to give

-going to angst central now, vergilius canonically at least knew who dante was before their memory loss (said they were a bit of a bigwig before that happened) so if they knew each other and were close there could be the grief in someone you love not even remembering who you are. which would make that the second time it’s happened to him

-the reason vergilius even joined the company in the first place was for the promise that he would get garnet and lapis back. it’s very possible that dante needs to be sacrificed to get this so he’d end up needing to choose between them. i like this as a concept to explore BUT in terms of it in a canon setting in my opinion it literally makes no sense to put that man through any more grief than they already have narratively speaking. projmoon media has always had a theme of the light in the suffocating darkness, there’s never any real “good” endings for anyone but there can be good things for them in the end of their arcs. a bittersweet sorta thing. there is an entire novel dedicated to vergilius and it ends with nothing but pain and suffering for him so it wouldn’t make any sense for all of that to be for nothing

stuff from the divine comedy that i just feel like i should mention somewhere:

-if you don’t know they’re based on the characters from the divine comedy, which is about the spirit of dante’s favorite poet (virgil) leading him through hell. dante really looked up to virgil and regards him as an inspiration who he holds a lot of respect for

-if i remember right virgil is also a bit bitchy to dante in the beginning but they get closer throughout the story

-before paradiso, virgil is unable to accompany dante in his tour of heaven due to being stuck in limbo himself. i cant remember exactly what the text says but it’s meant to be very emotional and dante cries when he has to leave him

in conclusion i’m sick in the head. some of the things i mentioned aren’t inherently romantic and i like the idea of it platonically too, like vergilius just allowing himself to finally open up to someone please god. i do actually hc dante as aroace (im projecting) so! yes dating is still an option but….qprs…..i like all of these options

i think a lot of why i like verdante is because of how invested i am in the both of them separately tbh. makes my favs kiss each other

[schizononagesimus]

i wasnt planning on talking publicly abt this but i think it's important, esp since so many of yall on this webbed site have seen my ass manic, but ive decided to make a sobriety update here and there! Just so someone not in my immediate life sees that im Doing It, or something. I also just think it's important to share that addiction is pretty normal, so. But anyway, here's update #1!!

Sobriety update:

1. Started chewing gum, 10/10 very helpful.

2. Reminding myself of all the physical sensations I hated is also 10/10, but what's 1000/10 is reminding myself all the new trinkets i can buy (or the. International move I can afford.) with my new found dolla dolla bills

3. Dreamed about smoking and running away from my mother as she tried to bash my head in with a rock while i was previously trying to drive to my dead father and a tarot reading appeared in the sky, which is a bit on the nose, I think.

4. Still writing a lot of fanfiction, but when i greened out the other day (what all started this) i had the idea for a cowboy au and I dont remember how it ended bc I passed out 😔

5. I have been eating so much sugar and by jove is it helpful

6. I have not gotten up the courage to call the hotline to get me professional help yet BUT i have told my Inner Circle and theyre helping me so much im gonna cry!! My roommate has hold of my more addictive prescriptions and a good friend of mine got me some non alcoholic beer and encouraged me to Not make special exceptions for doing drugs.

7. Trying to give myself more structure in my day so that i can get back on track. So far it's working a little bit, but small steppy better than no steppy.

8. Trying to find happiness in other things, like being done with assignments or watching tv or listening to magnus (notice how I was too sad and intoxicated this week to listen?? Yeah i got out of the routine during the break so).

9. I know what the problem is and it is that im horribly afraid. Sad!

And if youre wondering what drug problem i have, it's all of them, except like the crazy hard stuff w n*edles n all that. I just uhhhh. Will do anything. At any time. And too much. And combine things. My sober birthday is 18th April and my rock bottom was 17th April. Proud of myself that I... oh my god i scared myself straight (im still a lesbian dont worry)

[reasoningdaily]

New York Post : Sean 'Diddy' Combs' checkered past includes stampedes, feuds and angry exes: 'Usually emerged unscathed'

Before he was Diddy or P. Diddy, Sean Combs was “Puff Daddy,” an ambitious rap promoter who left a trail of rage and blood from the start.

Way before the bombshell lawsuit filed last week by his ex-girlfriend accusing him of trafficking, rape and physical abuse multiple times through the years, Combs’ life and career was marked by high-profile beefs, arrests, court dates, and accusations from women and business associates.

But he’s never seemed to pay a big price – until now, as he settled the lawsuit from singer Cassie for an undisclosed sum a day after it was filed.

The hashtag #SurvivingDiddy was trending on X Saturday, with a number of people predicting that more women will come forward with accusations against Combs, who now goes by “Love,” in the days ahead.

Sean Combs, then known as “Puffy,” performs with Notorious B.I.G performs at the International Amphitheatre in Chicago in April 1995. Getty Images

Past acquaintances such as Kimora Lee Simmons and Diddy’s ex-girlfriend Gina Huynh have accused Combs of assaulting them.

Singer Aubrey O’Day has said she was fired from the group Danity Kane because she “wasn’t willing to do what was expected of [her] — not talent-wise, but in other areas.”

“He’s always seemed to be made of Teflon, he’s usually emerged unscathed from all sorts of situations,” Zack O’Malley Greenburg, author of “3 Kings: Diddy, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z and Hip Hop’s Multi-Billion Rise,” told The Post Saturday.

Singer Cassie, who settled a bombshell lawsuit against longtime boyfriend P. Diddy this week, are seen in Las Vegas for her 21st birthday in 2007.WireImage

“He’s always been extremely charismatic and that’s helped him get himself out of scrapes. He’s always walked a fine line. He grew up in Mount Vernon but his dad was a gangster from Harlem.”

In Dec. 1991, when Combs was only 22 and an intern at Uptown Records, the tone was set for some of the violence that would follow him throughout his career when a charity basketball game he was overseeing with Heavy D at a City University of New York gym in Harlem turned into a stampede that killed nine people.

A judge later ruled that Combs and Heavy D, whose real name is Dwight Myers, were responsible for the tragedy.

Combs dated Jennifer Lopez in 1999 and one of their dates ended up in a shooting incident at a Times Square club.FilmMagic, Inc

In the mid-1990s, Combs, then head of Bad Boy Records, was at the center of a deadly feud with West Coast rappers, primarily Suge Knight and Death Row Records.

The beef began with a rivalry between Biggie Smalls, who was signed to Combs’ label, and Tupac Shakur, who was signed to Death Row. Both men wound up murdered – Shakur in Sept. 1996 and Smalls in March 1997.

In April 1999, when Combs had become a full-fledged hip hop mogul, he was busted for allegedly bashing record executive Steve Stoute with a champagne bottle because Stoute used unauthorized footage of Combs in a music video.

Then known as “Puff Daddy,” Combs is seen here as a young rap impresario in 1995.Getty Images

The two reconciled after Combs paid Stoute $500,000. Combs, who had faced seven years behind bars, was sentenced to only a day of anger management.

Later that same year, Combs, his then-girlfriend Jennifer Lopez and his and his protégé rapper Shyne got into an argument with another patron at Club New York in Times Square and gunfire broke out.

Both Shyne and Combs were arrested and charged in connection with the incident. Combs, whose legal team included O.J. Simpson’s future attorney Johnnie Cochran, skated. Shyne was sentenced to ten years in prison.  

Diddy, now known as “Love,” at the MTV awards in Newark in September.WireImage

Combs’ driver at the time, Wardel Fenderson, testified at the time that he’d been warned not to take the job because Combs was “very arrogant, very demanding, has a very, very hot temper and some acquaintances of a bad nature.”

Cassie, whose real name is Casandra Ventura, and Combs had an on-and-off relationship for more than a decade before their split in 2018.

In the federal suit, she claimed Diddy also forced her to have sex with sex workers while he filmed, directed and masturbated. He denied the claims.

The late rapper Biggie Smalls, who was killed in 1997, was signed to Diddy’s Bad Boy Records label.Corbis/VCG via Getty Images

Both sides “resolved the claims … to their mutual satisfaction,” Cassie’s lawyer announced Friday without disclosing the terms of the settlement. 

Diddy’s longtime attorney, Ben Brafman, denied all the allegations against his client, and insisted the recent settlement doesn’t mean Combs is guilty of the accusations.

“One of the concerns we often need to deal with whenever a celebrity has been unfairly targeted in a very public manner are additional claims that seem to materialize out of nowhere; claims that are relatively easy to make but may have no basis in fact whatsoever,” Brafman told The Post.

“Just so we’re clear, a decision to settle a lawsuit, especially in 2023, is in no way an admission of wrongdoing. Mr. Combs‘ decision to settle the lawsuit does not in any way undermine his flat-out denial of the claims. He is happy they got to a mutual settlement and wishes Ms. Ventura the best.”

[xtruss]

The MIT Scientist Behind The ‘Torpedo Bats’ That Are Blowing Up Baseball

The Yankees Just Clobbered a MLB Record 15 Home Runs in Their First Three Games Thanks in Part To a New Style of Bat Developed By a 48-Year-Old Physicist

— By Jared Diamond | April 1, 2025 | The Wall Street Journal (WSJ)

Jazz Chisholm Jr. Hit Three Home Runs in His First Three Games this Season. Photo: Pamela Smith/Associated Press

When Aaron Leanhardt was a Graduate Student in Physics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, he was part of a research team that cooled sodium gas to the lowest temperature ever recorded in human history.

What his colleagues didn’t realize was that in the rare moments when Leanhardt wasn’t toiling away at the lab, he was moonlighting as a speedy shortstop in a local amateur baseball league. Leanhardt was good enough to play in a 2001 All-Star Game at a minor-league stadium in Lowell. He hit .464 that season.

“We didn’t even know about that,” said David Pritchard, a Professor Emeritus at MIT.

More than two decades later, the baseball world suddenly knows all about the 48-year-old Leanhardt. He’s the inventor of the so-called “torpedo bat,” perhaps the most significant development in bat technology in decades.

Leanhardt’s creation exploded into the mainstream this weekend, when the New York Yankees tied a major-league record by bashing 15 home runs in the first three games of their season. Nine of the homers came from players who have adopted the torpedo bat, including three from infielder Jazz Chisholm Jr.

Now, players across the league are desperately scrambling to get their hands on Leanhardt’s creation.

None of this seemed likely when Leanhardt was earning his doctorate and spending seven years teaching at the University of Michigan. But he would leave academia to pursue a higher calling: the solution to a complex, century-old physics problem with significant real-world applications. He wanted to know how to effectively hit a round ball with a wooden bat.

“This,” former Yankees minor-leaguer Kevin Smith said, “is probably the least impressive thing he’s done in his entire life.”

Leanhardt’s solution, which he devised a couple of years ago as a minor-league hitting coordinator for the Yankees, moves the fat part of the bat closer to the handle rather than the end. The result is a product that better resembles a bowling pin than a traditional bat, redistributing the weight to the area where players most often make contact with the ball.

The idea behind the new design was to help batters make more contact at a time when strikeouts are at an all-time high. Leanhardt eventually came to think about the bat as having what he describes as a “wood budget.” The goal was to use as much of that budget as possible in the ideal spot—six or 7 inches below the tip—without sacrificing swing speed.

With that theory in mind, Leanhardt dreamed up a bat that looked unlike anything the sport has ever seen. To turn his vision into a reality, his concept had to comply with MLB’s bat specifications. Rule 3.02 specifies that bats must be “a smooth, round stick not more than 2.61 inches in diameter at the thickest part and not more than 42 inches in length.”

Aaron Leanhardt Joined the Miami Marlins’ as Their Field Coordinator Following Six Years with the Yankees. Photo: Jeff Roberson/Associated Press

Surprisingly, the torpedo bat qualifies. At this point, Leanhardt says, he is on a “first-name basis with everyone who operates the lathe for every bat manufacturer in baseball.”

The last step was generating buy-in from players. Initially, the uptake was slow. But after the Yankees’ home-run barrage on the opening weekend of the season, that is no longer an issue.

“It’s just about making the bat as heavy and fat as possible in the area where you’re trying to do damage on the baseball,” Leanhardt said.

Leanhardt joined the Miami Marlins’ as their field coordinator this winter following six years with the Yankees. Before all that, he was a standout at MIT. Wolfgang Ketterle, who won the Nobel Prize in physics in 2001, called Leanhardt “one of the handful of absolute outstanding students” he has taught in nearly 30 years at the school.

In baseball, it took longer for his talent to be recognized. Chris Lewis still remembers the first time he encountered Leanhardt. Lewis was the head coach at a school in Eastern Montana called Dawson Community College in 2017. Leanhardt’s only baseball experience was a summer coaching gig in an independent professional league, but he was interested in the open hitting coach role on Lewis’s staff.

“His résumé looked like some kind of physics project,” Lewis said. “I was like, ‘Holy cow, I can’t even read this thing.’”

Austin Wells Hits a Home Run in the First Inning Against the Milwaukee Brewers on March 29, 2025. Photo: Mike Stobe/Getty Images

Lewis was curious to know why someone with Leanhardt’s background wanted to come to Montana. Leanhardt told him that he always loved baseball, wanted to break into coaching and was willing to accept low pay and long hours for the opportunity.

He was there for one season before successfully applying for a job with the Yankees. Now Leanhardt and his torpedo bats are the talk of the sport.

“Dude,” Lewis said, “that’s the most interesting man in baseball.”

— Appeared in the April 2, 2025, Print Edition as 'The MIT Scientist Behind the Bats That Are Now Blowing Up Baseball'.

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Designed Deception

Designed Deception https://ift.tt/lED3YI0 by Mikaelsonbich25 Will was always a mystery to those around him. He never got too close to anyone, unless he believed they could be trusted. Even then he was suspicious. The question of 'who is Will Graham' is the biggest case for everyone. Once his brothers show up in Baltimore looking for him, it only leads to more questions. Will now debates on returning to his old life, or letting Will Winchester rot in the mental grave he put him in. After all, he knows all too well how far people's curiosity could go. Words: 1867, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005), Hannibal (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con Categories: M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Adam Milligan, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Jack Crawford, Brian Zeller, Beverly Katz, Alana Bloom, Fredrick Chilton, Freddie Lounds, Castiel (Supernatural), Gabriel (Supernatural), Crowley (Supernatural), Michael (Supernatural), Lucifer (Supernatural), Azazel (Supernatural), Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Meg | Demon Possessing Meg Masters, Ruby (Supernatural) Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan Additional Tags: Will Graham is a Winchester, Family Secrets, Family Issues, John Winchester Bashing, Bad Parent John Winchester, Emotional/Physical Abuse, Child Neglect, Past Child Abuse, Murder Husbands, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Sass and Ass Runs In The Family, Hunter Will Graham, Father Figures, Jack Crawford Knows, Sassy Hannibal Lecter, Adam Milligan is Not Forgotten, Adam Milligan is a Winchester, Will Graham is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Gay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Betaed: We Die Like Dean Winchester On Tuesdays via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/s7BKSgL April 30, 2024 at 06:40PM