#it's all Been there. they've been slowburning it. and it works

[captainkingsley]

i will Not comment on posts with stupid takes about Ashton I will Not,

(proceeds to ramble in my own tags because idk where else to dump this)

[matrixbearer2024]

Reunited Again Aren't We?

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Lololol I felt bad I left you guys on a cliffhanger in "Troubles Unforeseen" so here's Vox's POV to the whole thing. Bro already has minor panic episodes when you go inactive so let's see how he deals with the fact you're just entirely gone. Oh and this chapter will feature a bit of the iconic radio demon because trolling Vox will never be unfunny to me HAHAHAHA.

A/N: This interlude's gonna be a wild ride, it's also gonna have some lore dumps because of Lucifer lolol. Hence it is fucking LONG- Btw please send me ideas for Vox and Reader now that they've reunited in death. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, doesn't really matter hahaha, I'm still going for the slowburn btw so please keep that in mind XD ANYWAYS- I hope you guys enjoy this interlude and as always, happy reading!

There was something wrong.

Like, really really wrong.

At least to a certain technology overlord.

Vox just couldn't get rid of the sick feeling he had in his gut.

It had been just a few hours after you said you'd leave for the party.

Knowing that, he tried to just distract himself with his work and hoping the feeling would go away.

Only to find himself counting minutes as nothing seemed to change.

Against his better judgement, he found himself shooting you a quick message.

He was just checking in on you, no harm no foul right?

"Hey doll, how's the party?"

He stared at the phone for a bit, wishing you'd reply and quickly put his paranoia and nerves to rest.

Instead, Vox was quickly reminded that he had a broadcast in a few minutes by his secretary.

Fuck.

He just really couldn't shake that ominous feeling.

Despite that, he put on a charming smile and just went about his business.

Unfortunately, he'd lost track of time after getting swarmed up by work.

So it was only hours later that Vox was able to check back in on you.

And to his dismay, there was still nothing from your end.

You didn't even see his message.

He tries to convince himself that he's just being paranoid.

That there really wasn't anything wrong.

But as he was staring at the screens connected to your gadgets hoping for even just the slightest activity-

The one that showed your phone suddenly fizzled out into static and abhorrently loud white noise.

He recoiled from the loud noise before the panic finally settled in.

Vox had known you for almost two years-

And this hadn't happened once.

The screen where your phone's interface had once been just went back to being one of his typical monitors.

Displaying statistics, graphs, surveillance and whatnot.

The overlord quickly checked if he could still interact with your laptop and tablet and breathed a sigh of relief when he could.

Especially when he could still control that little desktop version he made in his likeness for you.

So, maybe things didn't entirely go to shit.

But still-

What fucking happened?!

He kinda goes off the walls blowing up your notifications or trying to get your attention through the devices he was still tied to.

Which only makes his anxiety worse when there's still no response from you at all.

At this point, it's been a few hours since you've completed dropped off the radar and Vox was just not having a great time.

Were you still at the party or something???

That was of course until a news article appeared as a notification on your laptop.

Vox knew he shouldn't have cared about it much, it was probably just another one of those internet clickbait things anyway.

Especially with the headline.

"Students Injured by Drunk Driver, One Dead"

Who wouldn't think that was an exaggerated story?

But something in the back of his mind demanded that he check it.

It was probably the paranoia filling up with just all the worst possible scenarios.

The overlord just shook his head, he'll check it just to prove to himself you weren't part of it.

Just anything that could tell him that you were okay.

But the second he opened the article to read through it-

Vox immediately felt his stomach drop.

He could immediately identify the bloodied individuals in the headline picture.

It was your group of friends that had gotten caught in that accident.

And it was you who'd gotten killed.

Seeing you bloodied and battered in the outfit you so proudly showed him mere hours ago made him feel downright horrid.

It was like he couldn't even breathe.

No-

No way!

It couldn't be, it was just someone that looked like you!

It had to be!

Was what the overlord tried to tell himself.

But when he scrolled down the page and saw your name written in the article as the one unfortunate death-

Vox knew for certain that he didn't see wrong.

The sick feeling he'd been getting was his instincts giving him a warning.

A warning he didn't heed.

And it costed you.

He sat there in his chair for a minute trying to process it all, especially when the overwhelming guilt finally hit.

Vox wasn't ever one to feel that way, especially in his ruthless line of work.

Not to mention how he generally is a cutthroat businessman who would do anything to get what he wanted.

But when it came to you, he felt immense regret for not having better painted his worry.

That he didn't tell you something felt really off.

It was a new kind of weight at the moment, especially when he was still shell shocked from the blitzkrieg of information.

And even if you still chose to go to the party-

He still could have warned you.

And that was a fact he couldn't let go.

Holding his screen in his hands, Vox just sat there trying to calm himself down.

He definitely couldn't just go back to work like this.

This was bad.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this kind of overwhelming anxiety.

Was that it?

Would he ever see you again?

Or had he lost you for good?

The overlord was about to kind of just let his emotions run it's course until another realization hit him.

It only popped up in his mind when he saw some random surveillance footage of the city on another one of his monitors.

If you were dead-

There was a chance you could be down here.

He highly doubted it given your nature-

But there was still a chance.

He hadn't lost you yet.

So that was how Vox found himself rapidly traveling through wires and cameras all over pentagram city just holding onto a thread of hope that you would be around somewhere.

Velvette had given him an odd look when he just bolted of the Vee tower like his own ass was on fire but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The priority was you.

As he had unfortunately realized over time.

Zapping himself around through some cables, and cameras wasn't hard.

Tiring as he continued to do it but moving around like a shock of electricity was nothing new to the overlord of technology.

The problem now being that Vox had absolutely no idea where to even begin looking.

Pentagram city was huge, there was his tech and products in nearly every corner.

Aside from Alastor's stupid hotel-

And maybe cannibal town-

So it wasn't that difficult for him to get places.

But where would he even start?

It was unlike him to do something in such a sporadic manner.

Appearing here, appearing there-

Just to check, just to see.

He'd completely lost his cool in his panic and tried to picture what you'd look like as a sinner.

If there's one thing Vox had grown to recognize and love about you, it was your bright eyes.

That gaze that always looked at him with either cheer or mischief.

He was certain that wouldn't have changed even if you were launched into heaven or hell.

Problem was that didn't narrow his options at all.

How was he supposed to know how your other physical features would translate once you were down here?

Hell, he had a TV for a head!

The overlord zapped himself out of a nearby CCTV camera with a huff.

He couldn't keep traveling like that unless he wanted to exhaust himself before he'd even searched half of the pride ring.

So he straightened out his bow and brushed off his suit before just walking down the sidewalk and subtly searching that way.

He wasn't phased when some sinners took pictures of him, nor did he have the capacity to even care.

As long as they didn't get in his way, he left them be.

So imagine his surprise at the sense of familiarity he got passing by someone staring at the display TV screens on one of his many stores.

He swears he's never seen the person before, but there was something about their vibe that just hit like a sense of Deja vu.

Looking over at the sinner that seemed to even be amused at one of his broadcast reruns-

He got a good look of your face.

Your gaze really didn't change.

"Huh, so this is what he does down here. Goofy ass TV-"

And that was your voice.

He wouldn't mistake that anywhere.

"(Y/N)?"

You screamed in shock before you turned your equally surprised gaze to him.

When you met his eyes, Vox knew for sure it was you.

"Vox!!!"

You dropped the bag you were holding and immediately tackled him in a hug.

The overlord opened his arms instinctively to catch you, but he was caught off guard by your sudden movement that he ended up falling backwards and landing on his ass with you in his hold.

He couldn't really say anything when you were just rambling on and on into his chest about who knows what.

Vox couldn't even keep track of what you said.

He was just too relieved to still have you around.

It took a brief moment for him to tighten his hug on you, fearing that if he let go you would disappear.

The both of you stayed like that for a good while, until a certain princess Morningstar and her girlfriend found the two of you.

"(Y/N)???"

"(Y/N) get away from him!"

Vox could only compare how fast you whipped your head around to the times he'd caught you doing something silly.

Subconsciously his hold tightened on you as Vaggie approached, how in Lucifer's name did they even know you were here?

"No! I'd been looking for Vox ever since I ended up down here! I know he's not going to hurt me!"

He was more surprised at how quick you were to defend him, especially since-

Wait-

You'd been looking for him ever since you ended up in hell?

He couldn't catch the rest of the conversation you had with Vaggie and Charlie as he was too busy buffering.

By the time he'd finally been able to pay attention again, you were helping him stand back up with a bashful smile.

And that was when his worry finally reared it's ugly head.

"Wh- How the fuck are you even down here?! I told you to be careful and you'd gotten yourself killed?!"

"As if that's my fucking fault! How was I supposed to know I was gonna die that night?!"

The both of you go back and forth for a little while and you slowly calmed Vox down from his emotional rollercoaster.

He only noticed he was shaking slightly when you grabbed his hand and smiled at him.

A smile Vox was scared he'd never even see again.

He felt a little funny with your hand in his, not to mention just how small your palms were against his own.

"I'm okay now, see? You're such a worry wart."

"I could've lost you, why wouldn't I be?"

You just flick his screen with your free hand in response, but Vox didn't miss the slight red that dusted your cheeks accompanying your pout.

It was only then that he was able to get a good look at you.

He wanted to both laugh and scream at the fact you seemed to have taken traits of a doe, ears and all.

It was like Alastor just had to give him a middle finger no matter what he did.

He also noticed your outfit was the same as the one you had died in, which was probably a hint that you hadn't been down here for long.

Plus, you were just...

Short.

Well, you only stood up to his chest so you just seemed small in comparison to him.

A soft cough brought his attention away from you.

Ah.

Right.

"Hey there Mr. Vox! I see you're well acquainted with (Y/N)!"

Vox was about to just shrug off Charlie's greeting and leave with you when he noticed your stern gaze.

Oh fine, he'll play nice.

"You can just call me Vox, princess. No need for the formalities. It's a pleasure meeting you!"

He returned, extending his free hand to shake with his signature grin propped up on his screen.

Charlie just smiled and shook his hand, introducing herself and Vaggie.

Well, he already knew who they were but he played along.

"Oh just call me Charlie and this is Vaggie, we were actually just shopping with (Y/N) before you appeared?"

Huh?

Vox raised an eyebrow at you but you just nonchalantly pointed to the dropped groceries nearby the two of you just sitting on the sidewalk.

So that was what you were holding before you tackled him.

Before he could respond to Charlie however, you beat him to it.

"Saaaaaay why don't you go back to the hotel with us?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean I'd reckon it's not like you have anything else to do if you're out here."

Vox didn't really know how he was supposed to react first.

One, he was done with the day's work so you had him kind of cornered.

It wasn't like he could say no to you anyway-

And two, the hotel-

If Charlie and Vaggie were here with you then he could assume what hotel you were talking about.

And he was absolutely livid because he knew fucking Alastor was there.

Alastor.

And you were staying there?!

Though it seems like you heard his thoughts and poked his screen to snap him out of it.

"Oh and don't worry about Alastor, I've been a pain in his side ever since I came to the hotel. He's just really easy to piss off, kind of like you actually- and it's entertaining to watch."

Vox just gave you an annoyed glare from the comparison to which you shrugged.

Though when he weighed his options, maybe it was for the best that you stayed at the hotel despite his rival being there.

It was probably the safest space in hell at the moment-

Especially with how they were able to drive away the exorcists.

That and...

He wasn't so sure about having you in the same space as Valentino.

The pimp already blew up at him when you were just on his phone-

How much more if you guys were in the same room?

He broke from that train of thought though when you just suddenly started messing with his bow tie.

Tugging and poking, Vox couldn't help but find your behaviors as puzzling as it was cute.

He gaze softened slightly at you before he chuckled.

"Just what do you think you're doing doll?"

"Messing with your tie, what else?"

"Hmm, I can see that. Mind telling me why?"

"Cuz I can? Besides- do you wear this outfit all the time?"

"Only when I'm working, aren't you curious."

"Eh, it's all I've seen you wear so I figured I'd ask. Besides, this is the first time we've physically met."

Vox missed the weird glance Charlie and Vaggie gave the both of you.

Not that he would've noticed anyway when you were busy taking up all his attention.

Eventually, you were able to talk the tech overlord into walking you back to the hotel.

He felt a little weird when you finally let go of his hand to pick up the groceries you'd dropped but he wasn't sure why.

Well, more like you were dragging him along.

Charlie and Vaggie were talking excitedly in the front as he just strolled alongside you.

He wasn't really paying attention to them.

"I don't actually know much about what happened in the accident, just that it was a car crash. Speaking of- how did you know I died?"

"A news article popped up on your computer, I almost thought it was clickbait at first."

"Huh, well at least I ended up on the news!"

You both fell seamlessly into conversation all the way on your walk.

And despite you just behaving the same Vox was familiar with, seeing your reactions in person was a completely different experience.

Your energy was almost contagious even.

Vox just intended to drop you off at the hotel and return to his tower-

But you being you, decided to drag him inside despite his protests.

Charlie and Vaggie went ahead inside with the groceries while you once again grabbed Vox's hand to take him inside.

The overlord could already feel all eyes on him the second he stepped through the doors.

Talk about awkward.

"Greetings old pal! What brings you around here?"

Vox visibly cringed when he heard Alastor, forcing his trademark smile onto his face before looking at the deer.

Everyone already seemed to be taking cover for the inevitable fight that was going to happen between the two overlords when-

"Cut the shit Alastor, I don't need you antagonizing Vox when I want to chill out with him."

Vox didn't even have room to reply when your voice immediately cut through the tension like a knife through butter.

Even he looked at you with slightly widened eyes, did you just not fear Alastor at all?

In hindsight, Vox realized you didn't seem to fear him at all when you guys met so was this really unexpected?

The radio demon only narrowed his eyes at you in annoyance, static starting to surround him and you simply crossed your arms.

"If this is meant to be scary, I suggest trying something else. Cuz, you're honestly kinda just being creepy."

Alastor tilted his head before suddenly laughing off your words, your own deer ears pinning back in irritation.

"Why I was just trying to say hello my dear! No need to get so hostile!"

"Don't call me that. It's either my name or nothing ya weirdo."

That piqued Vox's interest, you never had any issues with his petnames-

And yet it seems like you had every bone to pick with his rival.

Was that because of him???

He bit back a laugh and just continued to spectate your exchange.

"If you do insist (Y/N), but I will say you have a terrible taste in companions."

You just flipped Alastor the bird and Vox raised an eyebrow at you.

He didn't even have to say a word to the deer before he disappeared back into the shadows.

"So what was that about who antagonizing who?"

"So much as say another word about this exchange I'm going to punch your screen in Vox."

"That's if you can reach it dollface."

And just like that, you both fell back into your usual banter.

The others would've thought you and Vox were arguing if it weren't for the seemingly genuine grins on both your faces.

There wasn't an air of hostility around you and Vox like when you confronted Alastor.

It was friendly, which was... weird to say the least.

All the more for the current residents of the hotel.

You were a new arrival, so the fact you were so buddy-buddy with one media overlord while having every bone to pick with the other was a little confusing.

Not to mention that Vox was kind of just... there.

Like he wasn't trying to strike up a deal, or even do anything to the hotel.

Was he there just for you???

That fact made them more concerned about your backstory than anything.

When a lull in the conversation between you and Vox finally hit, Angel spoke up.

"Say uh, toots. How'd you end up down here?"

You didn't seem to mind the nickname this time, instead simply shrugging nonchalantly.

Vox was sure now you just said you had problems with it because it was Alastor.

"That's actually a good question. I've got no idea."

"Seriously? Then how do you explain the fact you're friends with like- hell's biggest media overlord?!"

"Oh that? I met Vox when I was alive. No biggie though."

Vox just snickered from everyone's dumbfounded expressions.

Of course he could leave it to you to completely misunderstand just how important the title of "overlord" is.

"I think I might be able to help figure out why you're down here (Y/N)."

It almost entirely caught Vox off guard when Lucifer of all people suddenly made his presence known.

Not to mention the guy was just really short.

Like- wow.

You'd think with all the paintings and tales he'd be a bit more intimidating too but nope.

Vox just looked over at you next to him while you just gratefully gave Lucifer a hug and accepted his offer.

Seems like he wasn't wrong when he mentioned that you could easily make friends anywhere in the past.

The overlord nodded his head slightly to acknowledge the king of hell but was more focused on what he was going to do to help.

It wasn't like they could just watch your entire life on rewind-

Or could they?

Vox just watches as Lucifer uses his magic to form this... golden orb thing in front of everyone.

So color him shocked when it suddenly starts playing some of your memories.

From when you met him because of the ouija board incident-

Up until the point you died.

Was he the reason for your damnation???

Was that why the orb showed that??

"So that's how you guys know each other- don't see anything that could've caused you to be down here though. Let's go farther back."

What-

Now the overlord was completely stumped.

Just what.

Okay, maybe he jumped to conclusions too soon.

Apparently, from skimming through your memories- it seems like the main reason why you were down here with the rest of them-

Was because you stole a candy bar when you were like- five.

"And you were worried about not meeting me."

"I mean, how was I supposed to know I was damned since I was FIVE?! What the hell is this bullshit?!"

Vox could only laugh at you throwing a hissy fit, everyone else around you still being a little confused and dumbfounded that you were in hell for such a small and kind of idiotic reason.

"It's not funny Vox! I can't believe I'm stuck down here because of a fucking candy bar!"

"I thought you didn't mind being down here?"

"Oh trust me I don't, I'm good with wherever you are. But I could've at least gone down for a cooler reason! Fucking hell!"

He couldn't help but smile fondly as you continued to rant.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this, but he always found it cute anyway.

Screens between you both or not.

[rocksanddeadflowers]

hyperfixating on Lyfrassir and Marius kissing but slowburn so obviously i was thinking about different scenarios of them reuniting after the Bifrost Incident. And I realized I want more.... Chaotic/crack treated seriously variations.

The dramatic/angry ones and the "found Lyf floating in space half dead" ones are so very delicious indeed BUT it's too late I'm thinking about silly ones now and I have a personal favorite to share:

Marius has been moping (aka in the worst lovesick guilt ridden agony ever) ever since they left Lyf behind, so the crew obviously kept an eye out for any sign of Lyf.

Not too terribly long after the Bifrost, Brian gets a signal while piloting. Whatever it is (Lyf's tiny space shuttle, a random planet, Lyf having stowed away on a large spacecraft the boys get to pirate raid) is based on interpretation ngl BUT Brian finds them. Of course, there are a couple factors to consider:

One, he is on EJM. Two, Jonny and Tim have been complaining relentlessly about Marius's moping (well, most of the crew has, but Jonny and Tim the most). Three, he realizes that The Birthday Day (the day in which the crew of the Aurora celebrate everyone's birthdays at once, since they've all long forgotten their original and time is strange anyway) isn't very far away.

(The fourth secret factor is that while I like polymechs I'm also a big fan of Tim Jonny and Brian being their own thing.)

So instead of reasonably telling Marius, he goes to Tim and Jonny and devices a plan to "make Marius less boring again".

Cut to Marius on The Birthday Day, half-asleep and face tear stained, getting dragged into the common room much too early in the day by these three maniacs.

(Much of the usual stuff has been/is currently being set up by the other crew members- a present pile that doesn't contain all the day's presents nor does it contain solely presents, random decorations salvaged through the years, snacks and a giant pile of blankets and pillows and other soft things in the center of the room so they can pass out there at the end of the day, etc etc)

There's a large box (the kind that look like fancy wrapped presents but have a removable lid like a hat/shoe box) next to the pile the three maniacs are pushing Marius to open ("Guys it's fine I'm really not in the mood for The Birthd- you never let me open presents early is this a trick?"). Marius eventually caves and pulls the lid off the box, the cardboard walls falling to the floor-

There is Lyfrassir Edda, bound and gagged, sat on the floor, glaring the sharpest daggers ever up at everyone. The three maniacs probably shout "surprise!" with shit eating grins.

Marius, both extremely relieved, overjoyed, and terrified nearly has a panic attack removing the bonds and immediately being punched square in the face for his troubles. (It's okay those two will work out their problems- eventually.)

edit: forgot to mention Lyf does 100% in fact have a giant bow stuck on their head and someone in the reblogs beat me to saying that lmao glad you got the same idea

[lostinforestbound]

It's finally here! I'm sorry it took me so long, with work and art projects I got completely swamped. But now it's here! I'm aware I'm posting this incredibly late so no one will see this until morning probably hahaha! Requested tag: @snoozeeebee

Rolan/M!Tiefling Tav

Third Time's the Charm - Ch.1

Rolan intends on doing great things when he finally gets to Baldur's Gate, but an utter idiot named Tav is distracting him. Unfortunately, against his better judgement, he's starting to fall for him.

Word Count: 5.9k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rolan's POV, Makeout, No smut (yet) but it gets frisky, Slowburn

(If there's any tags I missed, please let me know!) NSFW, MDNI

They've been at this grove, stewing and waiting for too long. That Archdruid (Halsin was his name, he believes) might have been welcoming, but the other druids have not. Now he up and disappeared after he decided to follow a group of weak, loud, wannabe adventurers who were only out for themselves. When they cowered back inside the grove with less than half their group, he knew that this place was doomed. What's worse than all of that mess is that Lia is stubborn about leaving, and now they're in an argument again. They've been having them a lot in recent months, ever since the fall and rise of Elturel.

"-and all you care about is your stupid apprenticeship!" Lia shouts at him, his mind finally tuning back into the conversation- no, not a conversation, a damn shouting match.

Her words make him bristle and grind his teeth. How dare she? How dare she ever think this was all only for the apprenticeship? It's an insult to injury, knowing no matter what he does, trying to take care of them results in him being called selfish. What is selfish about wanting a better life for the three of them? They only have each other, their mother long gone. She's gone, and now he carries the sole responsibility of taking care of them.

She's gone.

"Take that back. Right now." He hisses, getting in her face as they glare each other down.

Cal immediately inserts himself in between the two of them, palms out in front of them both. "Can we all just take a moment? Please?"

Rolan idly notices the sweat gathering on Cal's temple as he pushes Lia back slightly by her shoulder, creating more space between all of them. He does the same to Rolan, but stays put in the middle to form a weak barrier- wait, who is that tiefling that approached? No, it doesn't matter.

"Hells, we can't just leave. They're kin!" Lia begs, almost pleading with him.

"I will not gamble our lives- our futures, on people who are as good as dead," He says somewhat calmly, though his tail still flicks behind him in irritation. "We must leave for Baldur's Gate at once."

Lia looks ready to bare her teeth at him, angry with him. She's always angry with him. "What's the point of blades and spells if we don't bloody use them?! We should stay! These people aren't fighters, we can help!"

"Or yell louder, that's fine too," Cal says with a familiar bitterness in his tone; gods, he hates that tone on Cal. He's been hearing it more often, these days.

"Have you forgotten Elturel?" A voice breaks through, and he finally acknowledges the presence beside them.

It's another tiefling, a much larger one at that. He's not part of the refugees, as he hasn't even seen him around until now. Did he just arrive here?

This one isn't that much taller than he is, only by a few inches; but hells, his mass absolutely dwarfs his own. A fighter most likely, or even worse, a barbarian. It doesn't matter which one he may be, he looks like an idiot that isn't worth his precious time.

"We should stand by our people. You know no one else will." He says lowly, giving a knowing look of both annoyance and sadness.

He loathes that look. He’s never wanted to blast someone more than in this moment. How dare he look at him as if he was some child throwing a tantrum?

"This isn't Elturel, and I'm not responsible for every damn tiefling in the world!" He exclaims, almost furious.

Lia pokes him harshly in the chest with her pointer finger, and he has to suppress a wince. "Just be responsible for yourself, then! We have to stay; it's the right thing to do."

He hates that fucking tiefling even more now. Not only has he butted into his family affairs, but now he turned his sister- Lia, even more against him. For once, why can't things go his way? Why do they not listen to him?

When did they stop listening to him?

"Zurgan. Fine! We'll stay. If we survive, it'll make for a good story, I suppose." He airs, rubbing a finger to his temple as he feels a headache form there.

For the first time in a long time, Lia gives him a genuine smile, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing. "Thank you, Rolan.” She says sincerely.

Cal now takes the calm moment to usher the two further into the grove, seeming to want to get away from the entranceway as soon as possible; for once, Rolan lets him. He doesn't pay any mind to the strange looks they get by going further into the grove with the other refugees, and he certainly doesn't pay any mind to the oaf of a tiefling that they left standing there by himself.

He decides he hates that man, and he pisses him off to no end.

"How long until Rolan shows off his Thunderwave?" Cal asks as they settle down near an old human woman's tent, who seems to be organizing some herbs in her storage crate. Something is off about her, but Rolan can’t put his finger on it. Either way, it doesn’t matter.

Lia snickers at that moment, crossing her arms over her chest. "Depends, how many people are dumb enough to ask?"

"Hah! True."

Rolan rolls his eyes, trying to dust off the dirt on his robes. He hates the smell of this damned grove, it stinks. Is he truly supposed to arrive to Lorroakan with his clothes smelling like this? He'll have to burn them, no question.

"Don't be grumpy, Rolan. We'll get to the city soon." Cal chirps, bumping his shoulder with his own.

"I am not grumpy."

"The scowl on your face would frighten a troll."

Despite the foul move he's in, he smiles at his little brother. "Heh. You're an idiot."

-----

It's been days, and that tiefling is still here.

He's heard about his many exploits; saving one of the children the druids held hostage, saving another orphan child from a group of relentless harpies, getting their money back from that tiefling brat with the eyepatch, and slaughtering Kagha. Emphasis on slaughtering.

When he came out of that grove where the ritual had stopped, he saw the amount of blood that was covering the large man. None of it was his own, he realized. The man barely had a scratch on him and seemed proud when exiting.

He caught himself staring at him many times, watching how the muscles stretched across his skin, seeing all the little imperfections. Scars, beauty spots, all the like. He internally curses himself and looks away when he feels his face growing hot.

Paying back attention to his siblings, he notices how Cal stares at the blacksmith across the way, rubbing his hands absentmindedly as he thinks of something.

"You shouldn't waste precious time on distractions. We need to head to Baldur's gate after this goblin fiasco is over." He remarks, getting up and brushing off dirt.

"Rolan." Lia warns, but he ignores her and walks away with a roll of his eyes. They need supplies, so he will go get them if they are too lazy to do so.

And, of course, the oaf is already buying them off of one of the druids. Damn it all!

"Need something?" He asks, inspecting him as if Rolan was much shorter than him.

He scoffs, even more irritated than he was originally, "I was in need of potions, but it seems you got them all already."

"What did you need?"

"It doesn't matter, you beat me to it!” He instinctively snaps, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “Bloody health potions are so short of stock these days-"

Wordlessly, the man puts three large health potions into his arms, which, for once, renders Rolan speechless. He doesn’t even remember the original tangent he was about to go one. Something about price inflation, probably.

Staring down at the red potions in his arms, he snaps back into reality when he speaks again. "You three need it more than I do. I, at least, have a healer."

He sneers at him, gripping the potions tight. "So what, you look down on us?”

"Not at all."

"We are not charity cases,”He almost growls, baring his teeth. “What is your game here?"

"…Can I tell you a secret?"

Why is this his life? How did everything turn out this way? Why is he even entertaining this fool??

After a bit of contemplating his life choices, he finally responds. "What?"

The tiefling suddenly leans in to put his mouth near his ear, and gods he's so close. Tav was his name, wasn't it? He heard it in passing by one of his group mates. Balsam, rogue's morsel, and acorn truffle are what he smells on him, a strong scent that is surprisingly pleasant- gods, what is he thinking?! Feeling his face starting to heat up, he tries to take a step back, but Tav stills him with a hand on the back of his neck. It makes his breath catch in his throat.

Finally, Tav whispers to him, "I'm just being nice."

Tav pulls away, leaving Rolan completely dumbfounded as he continues. "I'm not trying to look down on you or be a pest, I just think you need the potions more than I do. Cause gods forbid these fucking druids try and help out people who need it." He spits with a roll of his eyes, staring directly at the Druid that was still besides them through this entire ordeal. He looks uncomfortable.

"Well, that is shockingly intelligent of you." He huffs, hoping the jab aggravated him. "Although, aren't you fighting a swarm of Goblins out there?"

"I am, but bold of you to assume they hit hard enough to hurt me." Before he could come up with another insult for his remark, Tav interjected. "Anyways, I have to return to my camp as it is getting late. Good luck to you and your siblings. Cal and Lia, right?"

He didn't have the chance to respond before the idiot sauntered off, back outside the grove. Great, now he's indebted to the bastard. Slowly, he stalks back into the grove, tying the potions to his belt as he does so.

-----

Some panic swept across the grove when people realized the goblin army planned to raid it for all it was worth. He's heard so many horror stories of slaughtered tieflings, their enemies sawing off their horns to keep as trophies or as foghorns.

If they think they could do the same to his family, they are sorely mistaken.

As others run and hide in Zevlor's war room, others stay to help fight, including himself. But, once again, the three of them can't stop arguing about their positions; he can tell Cal is getting pissed off, but so is he.

"I'm telling you to stay back. My Thunderwave will make short of any goblin that dares to come close. If you two are in the way, I'll knock you both over!"

"And I'm telling you to just get behind us! Spellcasters can't take a punch or a blade!" Lia shouts.

"Can we not argue over this? Please? How about we all line up together?"

"No." They both state and Cal immediately shuts up.

"Wow, you three must love each other very much." A familiar voice says sarcastically.

He grits his teeth and turns towards Tav. "Oh, piss off you oafish-"

"Wait! Wait, maybe Tav can help us out. Figure out positioning and whatnot?" Cal suggests quickly.

"Great idea Cal! Let's ask the professional harpy slayer."

Tav looks at them all, seeming to take in the equipment and weapons that they have on hand. In all honesty, Rolan didn't even think Tav could think.

Suddenly, Tav grabs Cal and moves him to the front, and in the next moment, he gently moves Lia to the back, leaving Rolan in the middle. "There. That's a good positioning."

"See? Easy!" Cal says cheerfully. "Now can we just-"

"Why can’t I be in the front with Cal?”

“Lia come on-“

“I want to be able to help out!”

Tav yawns briefly before explaining, "You will be helping, a lot. Both of you and Rolan are range users. You will hit goblins better by staying in the back where you'll be more effective. Cal here is in melee, with both a pike and a shield. He can protect you both and be your frontliner, while at the same time, you two cover his blind spot. Although, alternatively, you two could be next to each other, but stay behind him."

Rolan blinks slowly, processing the logic behind it. Damn it all, it's incredibly smart. Maybe Tav isn’t an idiot.

"There, good enough explanation?" He asks.

"It's great! Thank you, sincerely." Lia says, patting Tav's shoulder.

"…You're welcome." He pauses before putting a hand into his bag. "We'll kill those bastards out there, no doubt. But I would feel better if you all have this just in case."

Taking out a bright scroll, he holds it out to the three of them to take. Rolan instantly recognized it, especially with the unique binding on it.

A Resurrection Scroll.

Lia is the first to react and take it. "We won't need this, but thank you! Doesn't hurt to have a backup plan if things go wrong."

"I'll make sure it goes smoothly." He reassures, cracking his knuckles.

"What do you have planned, anyway?" Cal wonders aloud.

"I stole a bunch of smoke powder barrels in their camp and set them up along the perimeter. Anyways, they could be here any moment. Stay vigilant. If all goes super well, you won't even have to fight."

-----

They feel the explosions before they hear it. A deep rumbling in the ground that shakes them, awake and alert. There are so many of them that go off after the first one, like a domino effect. How many barrels could Tav have possibly gotten his hands on??

Unfortunately, those explosions didn’t stop a giant spider and some goblins from coming in.

Goblins were easy. He made quick work of them with his thunderwave, blasting them back into the stone wall. Though with his distraction of mentally stroking his own ego, he didn’t see the giant spider coming up until Cal quickly got to his side, blocking its oncoming fangs with his shield, the force of the bite splintering the wood.

His eyes widen, and he blasts a magic missile at the spider right as Lia shoots an arrow into one of its eyes. It screeches in pain, but it’s stubborn in its conviction. It lunges, and Cal cries out when it tears into his arm, trying to rip off his flesh.

Rolan shoots off another thunderwave in his anger and panic, killing the spider in an instant. He watches some of the legs get cut clean off, the body flying and crashing into some crates, destroying them, and its sickly green innards spilling onto the dirt floor. A disgusting sight, indeed.

“Cal!” Lia yells quickly, snapping Rolan back into reality and he quickly rushes over.

Cal is teary-eyed but tries to wave it off, even as Lia tries to get a better look. “I-I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Come here.” Rolan says maybe a little too harshly, making his brother sit down on a wayward crate and grabbing his elbow to hold it still.

“Rolan please-“

“You look close to crying! Just-“ He stops himself and takes a deep breath, eyes meeting his. “Let me help. Please.”

Cal sighs shakily but nods, letting his arm be lifted for him and Lia to see.

It’s a deep injury, but nothing deathly serious. It looks painful. The spider managed to inject some kind of poison, but Cal resisted whatever effect it could have taken.

Rolan takes out one of the health potions he’s received from Tav and carefully pours it over the injury, and it slowly seals the wound. No scar is left behind, surprisingly enough.

“Does it hurt?” Lia gently presses.

“Not anymore. Thanks, Rolan.”

He wants to yell at him so badly, the argument already bubbling up his throat. Why wasn’t he more careful? Why did he jump towards his side so quickly? He had it handled! He’s supposed to protect him, not the other way around.

Instead, he settles on, “You’re welcome.”

Knowing it’s safer, Cal leans against him quietly, and Rolan carefully holds him with Lia. It wasn’t even a close call, but it’s clear Cal needed some comfort.

No more enemies come through. There were no casualties, either.

Zevlor ends up making a speech at the gate when they check out the damage, and he’s sure others are inspired, but he’s barely paying attention to it. He doesn’t care, in all honestly. He wants to leave this fucking grove and never look back; it is by far the worst place they’ve ever stayed in, second to Avernus. Though, he might be being dramatic.

He found himself looking around for Tav, but he didn’t see him anywhere. Why was he looking for him, anyway?

When he finally spots him, he shouldn’t be shocked by the amount of gore he’s covered in, but he is. He’s completely drenched in blood, whether from the goblins or the Drow leading them. Some of it was his own since he spots injuries littering his frame. 

He shakes his head and straightens up, shifting his attention to his siblings and ignoring the warmth growing in his cheeks. “Now that this fiasco is over, we will head to Baldur’s Gate.”

“Are you serious Rolan?! Come on, there’s going to be a party!” Lia complains, bumping her hip with his. “We have to go.”

“We don’t have time for parties! Lorroakan is waiting for me, I cannot be late.”

“What’s one party, Rolan? It’s just for a night. We need to rest anyways.” Cal says, looking around the other excited tieflings. When was the last time they saw a crowd of them so happy? He certainly doesn't remember, and it makes his original conviction crack a little.

“I will not-“

Cal takes hold of one of his arms, tugging him. “Please, Rolan? Just for tonight.”

“There’ll be free wine, provided by the heroes.” Lia sing-songs, leaning against him and almost making him stumble.

“…Free wine?” He questions, genuinely thinking about it.

“And free food,” Cal confirms.

Gods, he hates the pathetic puppy-dog eyes that they use. He can’t stand to look at their faces, and he hates it even more that he's falling for it, just as he always has.

He sighs heavily in defeat, head hanging a little low. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Cal cheers, giving him a tight hug.

To his surprise, Lia joins in, the both of them crushing him. “Thank you, Rolan!”

He rolls his eyes but lets a smile break through, even when he can hardly breathe. “All this over a party?”

“It’ll be fun! You’ll see!”

He smirks knowingly, finally separating from the two. “All right all right, I trust that this will be an exceptional occasion. I look forward to seeing you say you love me while drunk, Lia.”

"As if, brother."

It doesn’t take long for Tav to offer up his area with his party members, so they gather with the Tieflings and head to the camp. It doesn’t look like much, but it’s secluded at least.

That bard, Alfira, starts decorating the place in an instant; lantern lights go up, colorful ribbons decorate the trees, and boxes get moved to the side. Others help out, including Lia, but Rolan and Cal sit back and relax for the time being.

When the party finally starts, they pass wine between the three of them.

“Can you give us a magic show, Master Rolan?” She teases.

Rolan rolls his eyes playfully. “Already?”

“Oh! Can you make an owl bear?? Or a dragon!” Cal suggests, scooting forward more on the log.

He stretches out his arms in front of him, cracking his knuckles while doing so. "Patience! Have you no respect for showmanship?"

"Having performance issues Rolan?" Cal whisper-shouts playfully, and Rolan idly notices Tav approaching.

He turns his nose up high momentarily before holding his hands out. "Hush, you. And behold!"

It's a brief performance, but amazing nonetheless if he says so himself. He makes it look like stars that spark, fly, and explode into various lights. He has always been irritated he could never make it last long, but that is what his training will be for.

He looks over at Tav as soon as he claps, seeing the way his eyes glide over the lights. His face doesn’t change in the slightest, so he can’t tell if his clapping is meant to be some sort of taunt or if he’s genuine.

Either way, he does a dramatic bow. "Adoring applause? You're too kind."

"Remember when he couldn't cast that?" Lia teases.

"They grow up so fast," Cal states.

"Never have I met such troglodytes. Now, pass the wine." Rolan demands, but a content smile is plastered on his face.

It seems Lia was about to offer Tav some of it, but when she and Rolan turn towards him, he’s already gone.

“Looks like he already got bored of you.” Lia sings to him.

“Oh hush up.” He huffs, snatching the wine bottle and taking a long drink.

He will never admit how much that comment stung. He doesn’t know why he was so bothered by it in the first place. There are many possibilities he goes over as he feels the alcohol give him a pleasant buzz; was it her wording, or was it the fact that Tav disappeared without a word? Did he get bored? 

Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care what that man thinks of him. He swears he doesn’t.

Later in the night, he drank- no, chugged wine while Cal and Lia chatted with the other tieflings partying. As much as he loved to perform for them both, even someone as great as he gets tired after using a bunch of magic in rapid succession. 

The wine wasn’t good; nothing compares to Arabellan Dry, but what else was there to drink? He refuses to partake in ale or beer, he never found the appeal of it. Honestly, it’s disgusting, and he doesn’t understand why Lia likes it so much. Cal seems to be looking for someone in particular but isn't finding them. He looks disappointed.

As he wonders about Cal and debates checking in on him, he doesn’t notice the brute approaching him until his giant form sits next to him with his own alcohol, the bark of the fallen tree groaning from the extra weight. He covers up how it startled him quickly, tilting his head up towards the brute with a bored expression.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing. I’m here to drink.” He says nonchalantly, sipping on the wine bottle. “Impressive display of magic earlier.”

His nose scrunches up, yellow eyes settling on his flaming ones with a glare. “Was that sarcasm?”

“No. Are you self-taught?”

Of all the things he expected tonight, it wasn’t this. Tav, a person who hits things and asks questions later, is curious about him? He wonders if he has an ulterior motive.

He pushes the thought to the back burner of his brain for now but approaches the conversation cautiously. “I am! And a man with many talents, may I add. I’m going straight to Baldur’s Gate to learn from the best: The Great Lorroakan.”

He sees the imposing Tiefling roll his eyes, putting his bottle down to stare out at the water surrounding the camp. Tav looks a little different, in the moonlight. Seeing him up close is a different experience entirely, and now he can see every little detail about him, including how he was shirtless-

Wait, did he just roll his eyes?

“What?” He demands, posture straightening as he grows defensive.

“Nothing. Just heard he’s a cad is all.” He mutters, deciding to pick the bottle back up and taking a long swig.

“Common gossip and rumors! He’s the greatest wizard in all of Baldur’s Gate. I’ve never imagined he would answer my letters.” He states with a happy sigh, idly swirling the liquid in his bottle. “I will become his apprentice as soon as I arrive. I cannot be late, yet Cal and Lia insist that this party is a wonderful idea. An adoring crowd, fine wine - I daresay this place is almost civilized.”

“Do you regret staying?”

“Of course I do. But Cal and Lia…” He trails off for only a moment but snaps back to it. “They deserve to have some fun for a little while. We’ll leave at dawn, either way.”

The Tiefling stares at him for a moment, seeming to be searching his face. For what, Rolan had no idea. Some kind of lie, perhaps?

“All right then. Good luck to you.” Tav eventually settles on.

“…That’s it??” He exasperates.

“If you’re looking for someone to argue with, find someone else.”

“You-“

“You talk too much.”

He settles a death glare on Tav's form. “Prick.”

Tav slowly looks at him with his own glare, determined to play his game. “Entitled fuck.”

“Dumb oaf.”

“Prickly bastard.”

They both stare each other down, faces too close but neither of them breaks their stare. He feels Tav's hot breath ghosting over his lips, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

“You’re insufferable.” Tav huffs, suddenly gripping Rolan’s jaw and kissing him firmly.

He moans in surprise at the force but isn’t against it. In fact, his face gets incredibly red before he remembers he can kiss back.

It’s not like this is his first kiss. He’s given and received kisses before, he’s not some kind of reserved prude. But this is the first one that’s so heavy. Hot. He’s completely out of practice and can do nothing but grip Tav's thicker forearm.

Something about being desirable to Tav makes him throb in his pants, though it also may be the way Tav's tongue is tracing his bottom lip, seeking entry.

Tav's free hand trails to his rear and squeezes, making him inhale sharply; a perfect opportunity for Tav to slide his tongue in to taste him. He knows he's losing his composure and by extension, himself, but what's the harm in indulging in this? It's pathetic, but he's never felt so desired up until this moment, even if this ends up being a fling.

Why did the thought of this being a fling make him feel hollow?

He pulls away to give himself space and to breathe, but Tav doesn't pause, kissing along his jaw and ear. "My tent is west of here if you're interested. No one will hear us."

He shudders at the feeling of sharp teeth grazing the edge of his ear, teasing and provoking. Swallowing, he nods, and Tav pulls him away from the party towards a more secluded part of the area. He hopes that Lia and Cal didn't see him, but they most likely did. He’ll never hear the end of it when he returns.

Almost clumsily, Rolan finds himself in Tav’s tent quickly after, their kissing getting more heated between them. It was a strange feeling, exchanging breaths with someone else, but it felt good. Better than he thought.

They settle down on the floor of the tent, him sitting in Tav’s lap as they continue their make-out. Their tongues dance almost…lovingly. No, he can’t be reading into it right. They barely know each other; he's overthinking again.

He feels his large hands attempting to find the hem of his robes, and he seems to find it quickly as if from experience. Fingers start to dance across the bare skin of his back, running up the ridges of his spine. He sighs out shakily, goosebumps prickling out as his tail anxiously flicks about. Nerves hit him like a loose carriage, fast and suddenly, settling into the pit of his stomach. He felt cold, heart racing a mile a minute.

Why? This was good. Everything was good. This was supposed to feel good.

Why isn’t it?

He’ll give it time. It’s normal to be nervous about this kind of thing, right? Most definitely his lack of experience is a contributor, and doesn’t he deserve this after all his hardship? What’s the harm in pleasure for at least a night.

He feels his back hit the bedroll, warm calloused hands trailing over to the front of his body instead. Their kisses were feverish, desperate, and pent-up. All Rolan could do was grip the bedding below him as nails teased the textured skin of his sternum, a hand rolling a nipple between two fingers.

Tav’s lips go to his neck, finger tips trailing teasingly down his stomach before he begins to palm at his crotch through his smalls-

He can’t do it.

A cold sweat beads on the back of Rolan’s neck, panic and bile rising in his throat as it closes. He can’t do it, and he quickly grabs Tav’s arm with a death grip with wide eyes. “W-Wait, stop!”

Tav immediately gets his hands off of him, giving him space to move. His head reels from the sudden adrenaline, but also because Tav’s stoic demeanor is no longer present, and the man genuinely looks concerned. Fearful, even. “Did I hurt you?”

“No! No.” He reassures quickly, but his vulnerable mind is scattered and unfocused as he sits up.

There’s so many reasons why he couldn’t do this, but he can’t pin one down. Surely, Tav deserves an explanation, so he rushes to think of one.

It’s too soon, he hasn’t done this before, and this isn’t the place for it, he’s not a degenerate, his siblings are nearby, Tav is too imposing, it might hurt, it’s too vulnerable, he’s never been with a man, he’s never been with anyone, this is the wrong place to do it, he’s a coward, he’s scared-

“I can’t.” He grimaces, with no actual reason good enough to say out loud. Part of him is worried about what Tav would say; would he be upset with him? On one hand, if he does, Rolan knows that Tav was never worth his time. But on the other, he found Tav not as insufferable as he thought, and he may have just ruined the strange bond they made by stopping everything. Gods, he is pathetic, isn’t he?

Tav sighs slowly in relief, sitting back. “That’s okay.”

It’s not good enough, not for Rolan. As a wizard, he demands answers for a multitude of reasons when things happen. It’s only fair that he gives an explanation, is it not? Finally, he pins down a reason he could give: he doesn’t want to do it after having so much wine. There, that should do it.

Before he could start his tangent, he felt a hand cover his mouth.

“I don’t need a reason. It’s okay.”

He’s about to argue, completely insulted, but it gets muffled by the hand on his mouth.

“You don’t ever have to explain to me why you want to stop.” He says, finally moving his hand away. “I’m sorry if you felt like you couldn’t say no to me earlier.”

“I did want it.” He assured quickly, because he did. He truly did. Why did he panic?

“But you changed your mind.” He began, not unkindly.

“I did.”

“That’s fine.” He says with a small shrug. “If you want, we can keep kissing. Nothing further than that.”

He laughs in disbelief, running a hand down his sweaty face. “And why would we do that?”

“Doesn’t hurt to have company for a night. Besides-“ He gently takes hold of his chin, tilting his face up. “You seemed to enjoy what we were doing. Why not indulge? Just for one night.”

He smirks up at him, leaning forward with false confidence. “Am I that irresistible?”

“You have a pretty face.” He noted, swiping his thumb across his kiss-bruised lip before kissing him again.

The kiss is lazy and less heated, but it makes his heart pound all the same. Being held so tenderly is new, and he’s growing attached.

He cannot have attachments. What is he thinking? 

After kissing for a little longer, he lets himself be held in the bedroll as they lay down, indulging in the quiet night with Tav. They didn’t need to discuss what happened or question it. It’s exchanging favors. For Rolan, it’s just wanting the comfort of another body near him, letting him pretend that he’ll have something like this in the future. One day, he’ll be good enough for someone. He’s not sure what this does for Tav exactly, but he seems content to hold him.

“You can ask for more if you’d like.”

“I’d rather not embarrass myself more than I already have.” He barks before glancing at him in apology, eyes softer.

“Would it help if I said I will keep my mouth shut about this?” Tav suggested, pushing some hair away from his face.

He shifts to glance at his face, seeing if he is genuine. He can never read his face that well, but when he makes his judgment, he sighs and takes one of Tav’s hands, lacing his fingers through his.

“This is pathetic, I know.”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic.” He mumbles, squeezing his hand. “This is nice for me, too.”

Rolan feels himself relax more, body almost relieved that this hasn’t been rejected.

“What will you do, when you finally get your apprenticeship figured out?” Tav asks in the quiet.

“I’ll learn everything I can about all schools of magic. Then I can put on a real show for Cal and Lia.”

“They seem to love your shows already, why change them?”

“It’ll be different.” He pledged, “Bigger, better, and more sustainable. I’ll make them last so much longer, I’ll bring it more colors, and the illusion will look realistic. You will see.”

“I’m sure they’ll be great.” He yawns, nuzzling into the back of his neck.

“I will show you when you reach to Baldur’s Gate, my friend.”

There’s no response, only a quiet snore greets him. At first, he’s annoyed, but it’s hard to be angry when he is just as exhausted from today. For now, he falls asleep in his arms, hoping that for once no nightmares haunt him.

The Tiefling beside him is still fast asleep when he wakes at dawn, though he’s impressed by how the man can sleep through the screeching birds outside.

Quickly, he fixes his robes and hair, trying to not look like a mess. Cal and Lia are surely going to tease him, knowing he never returned to their tent. He debates on whether to wake the idiot up to say goodbye, but that seems foolish. He needs to sleep, and they need to head to Baldur’s gate immediately.

So he opens the tent, sparing one more look back before leaving.

He cannot create attachments. Not now, not ever. Not until he’s done with his apprenticeship.

[pearlywritings]

I really want to help

synopsis: coming to your place after one of his missions, Sampo doesn't expect to see that your daughter got sick... And despite you suggesting him to leave, he really wants to stay.

pairing: Sampo x fem!reader

tw: implied slowburn, kind of mutual pining, fluff

word count: 2.4k+ words

a/n: related to Sampo's part in my In father's embrace fic. I tagged at the end a couple of people, whom I saw in the tags, and who seemed interested in seeing more

"Hey, gorgeous~ Guess, who came to visit~"

Sampo sing-songs in his best female voice and when you emerge into the corridor, you are not even surprised to see him in one of his disguises. Long wig of his rich dark hair color, a portion spilling over his boa-covered shoulder and the rest streaming down his back, perfectly picked makeup, accentuating his gleaming green eyes and pretty lips, a black choker hugging his neck snuggly with an emerald trinket, and a long black dress with a slit from the mid thigh and down, open back and sleeveless. It seems like he's already abandoned his coat and heels while you were walking his way.

"Up to your business again, I see," your words lack any bite, they've been for a while, and Sampo charmingly smiles, stepping closer to you, fake manicured nails grazing your upper arm. The other hand cups the side of your face - you stopped rolling your eyes and swatting his hands maybe a couple of months after your acquaintance with him, realizing that without being handsy Sampo Koski wouldn't be Sampo Koski. After all, he is always gentle and respectful and never makes you feel uncomfortable. So you shakily exhale and lean your cheek into his palm, closing your eyes - bloodshed, as the man has noticed.

"Yep, had a thing or two to do in the Overworld. Don't you think I look absolutely divine though? Worth falling for?" You snort at him clearly fishing for compliments. Lifting eyelids just enough to see him, you regard him with an expressionless gaze and close your eyes again.

"Nuh, could've made your chest more alluring."

"Wouldn't want others to have a chance to see more than you do," he gently pinches your cheek, making you huff. "Wanna tell me why you look so tired, pretty mama? I thought the princess left the castle yesterday for the weekends at her school friend's place. Why weren't you resting?"

"Exactly why you'll have to leave now," your tone gets serious and eyes turn solemn. "She got sick on Thursday, so, obviously, no sleepover for her. Your phone was off, I assume, because my messages weren't delivered. I don't want you to fall ill too, so, go while you can. I'll tell her you came to visit."

Right, he switched his phone off not to be distracted or have his cover blown. And he is a bit unsure how he would've acted if he did receive the messages. Listen to you? Or stubbornly show up still?

Can he handle a sick child?

"Do you have the medicine, do you two need anything?"

But he wants to.

"Yeah, I have, and the doctor has seen her, so now it's just helping her get better. Don't worry about us, Sampo."

How can he not? When over this past half a year both of you managed to worm your ways into his heart?

"But what about your work? Don't you have performances almost every single night?"

"Oh, it's fine. I ask a lady from the floor above to sit with her."

"Do you even sleep?" Worry laces his words - an emotion one rarely may hear from the conman. Now both of his hands are cupping your cheeks, eyes closely observing your face, noting every single evidence of tiredness.

"A couple of hours here and there. It's fine," and just as you say that, you yawn. Sampo is not having it.

"That's it. I am going to change and then I am taking over caring for the little princess while you rest."

That's the biggest he's seen your eyes open this afternoon, owlishly blinking, clear shock written all over your face.

"Wait, Sampo, you don't have to-"

"For the girl who calls me 'pa' I want to. For the woman who didn't chase me away I want to as well," he leans down and presses a kiss right under your left eyes, letting his lips linger, enough for feeling your skin heating up. "Let me help you, please. I promise I am not pushing myself to. I genuinely desire so. Don't you believe your man, Sampo Koski?"

When he says 'your man', the heart in your chest flutters and the cheeks turn a bit rosy. Trying to mask that you hang your head low and murmur.

"Not when this man of mine is wearing a wig and a dress."

"Point taken, already on my way!" Lifting your face he smooches under your other eye and quickly leaves to your dressing room - which you've been sharing with him at this point you guess. Inhaling deeply and exhaling as much, you turn to the mirror on the wall, checking on your flustered expression.

Ah, no lipstick marks like last time. What a pity…

The thought makes you blush harder.

Squeezing eyes shut and profusely chastening yourself on the inside you are trying your best to self-compose. Why must this man be so insufferably lovely? With an ability to leave one with a truly indelible impression.

It's so hard to understand Sampo sometimes. And even if you learned quite quickly that not all the things he does hold any proper meaning, it was more and more evident that behind his affections towards you, towards your daughter - it's significant. You've heard rumors, you know what people say about him - a conman, a two-faced liar, a scammer, a swindler and any other word to paint a not-so-great picture. You know of some of his deeds firsthand - no matter what your clown says he tends to ramble. Yet somehow it hardly pushes you away.

He is just…different when he drops by. First clue is him sticking to you and your daughter in the first place, I mean, where would you find a man of the Sampo Koski kind who would willingly hang out with a divorcee and her seven-year old kid? Who would go to the Opera just to see you perform? Play babysitter for your girl whenever he visits? Flirt with you without any ulterior motives included? Occupy your kitchen without blowing it up? Hold you in his arms at night and happily welcome the little princess to cuddle? Never ever ask to get intimate with him, even though it's clear as day that his antics have rubbed on you, making you more receptive to his affection? 

And now he is offering his help to a sick girl, who's just recently started calling him 'pa'. Either the snow will melt tomorrow and the sun will burn the metal, or Sampo is complex and loyal enough to view your extraordinary trio as a functioning family.

And the second probability is the one you like to believe in.

You almost jump when an arm slithers around your waist and brings your body closer to the sturdy one. Glancing up you see a grinning face lacking any trace of makeup, familiar short hair with a rollicking fringe and a precious gem of an eye gazing at you with teasing.

"What got you stuck here for so long, gorgeous? Were you daydreaming of me, perhaps?"

Damn, now he is lifting his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not necessarily daydreaming, but I was thinking of you, yeah," you yawn again, stepping forward and making him, still attached to your side, follow you.

"Good things, I hope?" Unintentionally his fingers flex, digging lightly into your skin. You decide not to look into his eyes this time - as much as you want to turn him shy.

"Mhm. With a hint of you being annoying though."

He huffs in offense. But fingers relax.

Just as you arrive at your daughter's bedroom you slide out of his half-embrace and reach for the knob, turning it quietly and opening the door. It’s quiet inside, with light pouring through the big window and illuminating the small figure of your daughter, seated under the blanket and reading a book. Upon hearing spotting the motion on her left, she glances up and when your gazes meet, you softly smile.

"Hey, sweety, guess who came to visit?"

"Pa!?"

The girl leans forward from multiple pillows behind her head and back, and little eyes sparkle with excitement. She notices the tall man in the door frame as you open the door more, revealing the pleasant surprise. Your angel claps her hands and wants to laugh, but sharp pain claws at her throat, choking her with a cough.

You and Sampo both rush to the bed. You understand that only when your hands cup her face simultaneously - his on her cheeks and yours on top of his knuckles. You coo sweetly, kissing her forehead and letting her into the man's embrace, closely watching when his strong arms tenderly wrap around this fragile body. She is murmuring something to him that makes him smile, and then he whispers something back, making her bury her face in his chest more and the lock of arms around his neck get tighter.

"He'll keep you company while I'll be sleeping for a little bit, alright, baby?" You caress her back and see her nod. "Then I'll leave you two to it. Sampo, her medicine is on the table over there, she needs to take the next pill in two hours. Also some chicken soup is in the kitchen. And if something goes wrong-"

"It won't," he cuts you off softly, "Sampo Koski will try his best."

"Okay… but if anything I'm one phone call and one door away."

"Point taken. Now go and rest. Me and princess have some quality time to spend."

For the first time in three days your eyes do not hurt upon opening up. Head doesn't throb, and heart doesn't ache for your girl, pushing your whole body to run to her room and tend to her. Allowing yourself a nice stretch - all arms and legs and arched back, you spread out on your bed. A quick glance to the alarm clock on a bedside table tells you it’s evening already and a stomach that rumbles the next second reminds you of a missed lunch. But first you have a girl and a man to check on.

Groaning, you force your body to get up and leave for the bathroom.

A little fresher and with hair a bit less wild, you exit your room and quietly tiptoe to your daughter’s bedroom, listening to any sign of interaction inside. Finding none, you carefully push the door open and stick your head inside, immediately noticing the familiar soft light of the nightstand lamp.

And then your gaze meets the one of gleaming emeralds. They steal your breath away and for a few moments you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere else. And then his eyes crinkle and you glance lower, seeing his lips tugging in an adoring smile. Can you still be dreaming? It sure feels like a tender fantasy, especially with your girl tucked to his chest with his arm around her little body and sleeping - her breath is still labored and nose is sure stuffy, but she looks much more content than this morning.

Just before you can open your mouth, Sampo hastily presses a finger to his lips. Next he lifts a hand with a phone in it and shakes it a little, accentuating your attention on the device.

Oh, right, your phone!

Quickly nodding you step out, not missing a quiet chuckle he releases, and as quickly and soundlessly as you can, hurry back to your room.

When you pick your phone there are already a couple of messages awaiting you.

Popo: Hey, just so you know she took her medicine and soup and we are reading fairy tales rn Popo: She fell asleep

You coo out loud at the cute selfie the man sent you with the message. Your daughter’s cheek pressed to his chest and little hands holding onto the blanket as the lower half of Sampo’s face got into the image as well. And there you see a smile.

As you are grinning giddily and saving the picture, a new message pops up, and then two more.

Popo: Heeeey where are you, pretty mama Popo: What takes you so looooong Popo: I wanna see your beautiful face, come baaaaaack 😩

‘Clingy,’ you snort, and type the very same word back, which gets you a gasping sticker.

You do, however, come back, and you never knew a person’s face could light up more. Oh, wait, you knew. Exactly because of Sampo.

Slowly lowering yourself on the edge of the bed - which is almost completely overtaken by a buff man (no surprise he had your daughter on his chest) you open the chat back.

You: Thank you, Sampo. She looks better than before. Popo: Don’t even mention it. But I want a reward~ You: Sampo, I am not kissing you, do you want all of us to potentially get sick? Popo: I wasn’t going ask for a kiss, but now that you mention it hehe 😙

You glance up from your phone and pinch his calf, making him bite his lip. At least it wiped that shit-eating grin off his face.

Popo: Ok, ok, I was kidding! But I do want a reward. Gimme your hand. You: What for? Popo: Just gimme.

Raising an eyebrow, you regard both of his hands - which are occupied. But Sampo winks and takes the phone in a hand, previously resting on the girl’s shoulder, and curls the fingers of his now free outstretched hand. And you slide your fingers over his.

Now the man too looks content.

You: Happy now? Popo: Blessed, I’d say 🥰. Want me to stay for a couple more days? I could help you around.

You glance up at him again. Your face must be wearing a stunned expression once more, because why else would he rub a thumb over your knuckles in a comforting manner?

You: Actually… I’d love that. And she would too. Popo: Perfect, good thing I already canceled all my plans. You: …what if I would’ve said no? Popo: I would’ve still stayed. Or get into your apartment against your will. You: Like I didn’t willingly give you a spare key - don’t make it sound like a breaking in. Popo: You know I could 😇

Shaking your head, but nevertheless smiling you tighten a hold around his hand.

You: Yeah, I know. Thank you again. Really. It means a lot. Popo: What, suggesting breaking into your apartment? You: Sampo… Popo: I’m messing with you! Just don’t pinch me again, I beg you.

You swear, if this man gets sick, you are not going to take care of his sorry ass.

…the decision you completely ditch when he actually does. Well, at the very least you girl, who recovered with your combined efforts, is happy he is staying for longer. 

Also hearing him whine and demand kisses is so funny.

taglist: @aksellerate, @keinavs, @the-fangirl-arrived, @nebulabunni3

[yeahyeahchloe]

It Wasn't in my Head (1)

(a/n: hellooo! im super excited to be putting my ideas into writing ((finally)) and sharing it with u! this will be a multi part fic, im not sure how long yet, but i am a fan of long slowburn stories so get ready. also, this story will contain inappropriate themes so minors and ageless blogs dni! this is only my third or fourth fic ive ever done so plz be nice to me hehe. ok on with it then)

Summary: Abby is the starting linebacker at UW and when her team starts to falter her coach decides to get the team into ballet, in order to teach them that grace and stability is important in football too. Abby is just as upset about her teammates about this, until she sees her pretty new ballet teacher...

dancer!reader x football!abby

!!ABBY IS STRAIGHT IN THE BEGINNING. READER IS HER GAY AWAKENING!!

The locker slammed in the empty room as the blonde walked out alone, ready for practice. There were a few "hey man"s thrown her way as she walked out the doors.

Abby had always had a thing for sports since she was a kid. She tried a lot of them too, none of them quite working out.

That was before she found football.

Football was one of the only things that ever made Abby truly happy. She knew it was kind of corny to say, but she seriously felt lost without it.

So when she worked her ass off and was offered a once in a lifetime opportunity to play on the men's football team at the college in her hometown, it just kind of felt like fate was aligned.

Abby jogged over to where she saw everyone else running and started doing so. Abby got along fine with all the boys on her team, I mean it was her team after all, but she never really felt the need to truly befriend any of them. She had her close circle and that was all she needed.

Her said close circle consisted of her friends Miguel, Ellie, and Vi.

Her and Miguel met when they were teenagers at a boxing class. She ended up hating boxing but loving what came out of it. Miguel was the type of guy to make anyone feel good about anything. He could turn anything into the funniest joke, or a life lesson.

And Ellie, well she met Ellie not long ago, when their dads met in a poker club and Ellie's dad kina killed Abby's in the game. They had been friends ever since they started talking about their lack of mothers and love of corny dad jokes. Abby had also always known Ellie was gay, but the deal was kind of sealed when she would gush about her crush on a girl named Riley.

And Vi, well Vi was Abby's best friend since childhood. Abby was embarrassed to say, but she was the scared, shy kid sitting on the ABC rug in the classroom. Thankfully, Vi was the complete opposite and marched right up to Abby on her short little legs and struck up conversation. And the rest of the story just kind of wrote itself.

"Hey! Hey Anderson! Slow down!"

Abby looked over her shoulder to analyze the face calling out to her. She turned back ahead and cringed before turning back around and smiling at the man.

Owen wasn't a bad guy per-say, it was really just the way he couldn't learn when to stop. He had practically been eating out of Abby's hands the past three years they've been playing together.

It always confused Abby why she wasn't attracted to Owen, but she sort of just wasn't, and she thought she had made that pretty clear. She also just liked to think that sports were important to her, and she had too much going on for crushes or relationships.

"Hey Owen what's goin on?" Abby slowed so the man could catch up and tried to approach the conversation politely.

"Oh yaknow...practice," He said in between huffs, trying to catch up with the fit girl next to him, "What about you?"

"Yeah just, practice," She commented, coated with awkwardness.

Owen went to open his mouth to speak again, but thankfully her coach whistled loudly and told everyone to hustle in.

They flocked over to their coach and took a knee in front of him while the moustached man opened his mouth and started speaking.

"I called y'all over here to talk before ya started doing drills," he gruffed in his strange accent, "I hope y'all have noticied, that all your scrimages have been straight crap recently. I've seen blindfolded toddlers play ball better than you sissies!"

Abby cringed at his harsh words, but she couldn't help but agree. She assumed everyone was slacking recently due to the fact it was August, and the season hadn't even started yet.

"So, since I wont be caught coaching a ton of pansies, I've decided to get some outside help," everyone seemed confused by his words, and Abby couldn't help but be confused herself.

What the hell kind of outside help did they need?

"Huskies, y'all are gonna be taking ballet classes," the coach said, smirk prominent on his mustache covered lips.

Everyone immediately groaned and commented with wild distaste for the man's decision.

"Shut your nabbin!" he erupted with anger in his voice, "I don't want to hear another damn word! Y'all are takin ballet to learn that just because you think you're big tough men, don't mean you are! You will learn how to move properly on your feet, improving your agility, balance, and strength coordination. You start tomorrow and are fortunate enough to be taught by the greatest ballet dancer in the state and a student at this school. Dismissed,"

Fuck

(a/n: ok wow first chapter! hoped you guys liked it, I promise the next chapter will be more interesting. I will try and have it out soon! ♡︎♡︎)

[tavshortfortavern]

Being delulu is the solulu

Tav x Dammon slowburn

Heavily based on my Tav, Artemis who goes by they/them and a drow. Lawful/Chaotic Good alignment. Spores Druid.

Tropes: Unrequited (at the beginning), friends to lovers, slowburn, they fell first- he fell harder

This could be a fic but I'm not confident for that yet. Have this outline instead of how i imagine this pairing play out. Enjoy my Tav pining away for this npc

Tav x Dammon during the game

Tav grows to like Dammon after partially fixing Karlach's heart in Last Light Inn

His quick offer to help, gentle attitude, and skill catching their eye. The first time they met, Tav clocked him as handsome but slowly comes to appreciate everything else

Later on Tav wouldn't stop noticing his blue eyes, they weren't infernal like the other tieflings. Light blue, similar tk gemstones

So they've caught some feels but with the Shadowcurse, the cult and planning a prison break- that gets put to the wayside

Still, they always look forward to seeing him working at his forge when they're at Last Light or when they speak with him to trade

Is very subtle and discreet when it comes to liking him. No one probably notices. They're a little more generous in paying, they always look for him when they walk into last light, and they've got a softer expression when talking to him

When they reach Baldur's Gate they stay silent but are instantly looking for him. Trying to recognise his form among the many refugees, straining their ears to hear that familiar sound of a hammer, and asking about him (and by him they mean 'other refugees not present') to the tieflings at the refugee camp

Their companions point out another blacksmith in rivington since they need new gear but Tav dislikes the thought of turning to another smith thats not Dammon

He's their favorite after all but they don't say that

But they enter the Lower City. Tav being Tav is on rooftops and jumping to get around- when they hear a familiar sound of a hammer. Is that who they think it is!? They look down at the source of the sound and see a familiar face.

They call out to greet him excitedly, startling said blacksmith out of his work, looking out his forge to see the adventurer recklessly climb down from the roof of his shop.

They of course fall to the ground in an undignified heap but sit back up to greet him. He hears laughter next as the rest of your companions climb down after their leader.

Dammon notices them and excitedly greets Karlach. Bringing up that she looks well rather shyly

Something sinks in Tav as the two converse, seeing the way he regards their tiefling friend

They bury it and soak in the happiness of reuniting with a friend

Now was the time to make allies. An army controlled by the absolute was about to invade. They inform him of the situation and have his promise to stay safe and help when the time comes

Tav's mind is completely occupied by the many tasks they needed to accomplish in the city until the time of the invasion

Fast forward, Tav is at High Hall with their companions and every ally they could muster. Its the final battle up ahead and the air is beyond tense

Outside is chaos and everyone is look at them. Them. For encouragement. Something. They gave their speech, it seems to do the trick but their heart is pounding. There's never been more pressure on them, the stakes never higher

One misstep. One wrong move. And its ove-

Then Tav is speaking with Dammon and he recounts everything they've been through since the grove. Whatever happens, he trusts you.

And the pounding heart ceases.

From simple words of faith.

They're not completely at ease for the battles ahead but they decide it doesn't matter. They have to win. For these people they've come to care about. For the civilians like him who's at the most danger

They (he) deserve a chance at a peaceful life.

Tav defeats the Netherbrain. The city is saved. though it needs rebuilding.

He's the first thing they search for among the rubble. They find him bruised and shaken but alive, having taken shelter with the other tieflings

Tav is quick to tend to his injuries. Thanking the powers above he made it out intact

Tav x Dammon post-game

Tav sticks around the city. There's a lot to rebuild and heal after all.

Some of the companions depart, off to accomplish their own personal goals or seek one.

Never let it be known that their newfound status as a savior stops them from menial tasks and errands. They'll be picking up rubble and delivering supplies for weeks at a time, or spend even longer in healing wards

While they earned their fame for defeating the Absolute, they won hearts for staying and healing the hurts

Their healing spells becoming well known and lauded for. Even more so Heroes Feast and Create Water. Supplying a significant amount of food and water for the less fortunate

Thankfully they always have their room at Elfsong tavern that miraculously stayed largely intact

Being so close to his forge, Tav frequently comes across Dammon working even more. People needing tools and repairs more than ever, it seems like he never leaves his forge

That worries Tav so they make time to visit. Once they see his haggard appearance they make sure to visit with food and drink.

There was a shortage thanks to the disaster but they've always been a hoarder and with most of their companions away, camp supplies are in excess.

He's one of the few people in the city who'll treat them like a person instead of a saint or legend. And the hero is in desperate need of some levity during this

Its not an unusual sight to see Tav lounging by his forge with a meal, taking a much needed break from helping rebuild, conversing about whatever as he took his own break (heavily enforced by Tav).

He mostly talks about his comissions but sometime brings up how the other tieflings are doing.

Tav finds he doesn't talk about himself a lot but eventually learns he's a bit of a loner, gets absorbed with his work to the point of forgetting to take care of himself, and surprisingly under all that politeness, has a side to him that doesn't mind making deals with a nearby diabolist for infernal iron.

In return he learns of Tav's little loot hoarding tendencies and thievery. This happens when they approach him, calling his name in a hushed tone trying to get his attention.

He's confused at their behavior when they hand him piles of infernal iron. His eyebrows shot up as Tav rather excitedly presents him with it

When asked about it they mention going to hell and killing a devil, taking everything that wasn't bolted down in his home.

If it was anyone else he wouldn't have believed them for a second. But Tav is a whole other beast, he's starting to learn

He notices some of the materials look rather familiar. Enriched infernal ore. Similar to the steel watchers... He stares at Tav questioningly who looks anywhere else trying to come up with an explanation

C-can't have them going to waste now! Right? Those steel watchers are gone (that i definitely did not have anything to do with), its time to recycle, Tav tries to explain

So you admit you stole them, Dammon replies but inspects the iron anyways.

After learning how much he likes working with infernal iron, Tav gathers all the material they had stored in their chest to give to him. He doesn't know if he could pay for all of it but Tav just wants to see what he makes of them

Dammon is a little flushed seeing how much they're looking forward to his work. And even more so at the effort they expended trying to gather all of this

He's probably one of the few people Tav consistently interacts with since staying in the city and vice versa since he's not the social type either

Before they could count themselves allies, now they've naturally fallen into being good friends who hang out in their free time.

Dammon is always amused when Tav comes by with a dozen different things to be done for a dozen people that asked for their help. Their fame hardly changing them

He's also come to expect their reminders to take care of himself.

He used to the low key loneliness of living by himself. Even with the bond he's formed with the refugees he forgets to meet up with them while working. So when Tav starts coming by its a welcome change

He would begin working from first light, until well into the night when Tav shows up with a warm meal and a cold drink, they spend a while recounting their day and what needs to be done before returning to their own tasks

While slow going he begins to open up about his past. His life in Elturel, the descent into Avernus, his apprenticeship, sometimes touching on his childhood

Some days a rougher than the last. The collective trauma of the ithillid invasion affecting everyone and Dammon wasn't completely free of his experiences in the shadowcursed lands.

He's gotten used to moving on and hiding it but Tav has spent way too much time with their own group of traumatized weirdos to not notice

They've gotten pretty good at getting people to open up about deep rooted issues without putting too much pressure. After weeks of working together and solving conflicts he gets more comfortable talking

Having someone listen was a nice experience and allowed him to reflect on some things he refused to think about

Tav tells him about their adventures with the tadfools. They notice he pays extra attention whenever Karlach is brought up and adjusts accordingly, bringing up more stories involving her. Liking the smile he has on when they do so

They've had a few hiccups and issues. With the city as vulnerable as it was, a few malignant forces tried their luck seizing power. But thankfully Tav was there

A vampire coven, a few remaining cultists, and bandits couldn't hold a candle to an elder brain. With some new allies Tav successfully repelled them with little issue

Of course Dammon was treated to the sight of a gore covered adventurer looking sheepish asking for repairs and new arrows a few times

One time they showed up particularly banged up making him usher them inside and treat their wounds with what medical supplies he had

When they were particularly injured after a fight Dammon let them rest in his place. As they were resting in his room they noticed a certain book left out on a chair

That day was spent relentlessly teasing a blushing tiefling. He should have known a nosy Tav would have found that book

There's never a dull moment with Tav but he's come to enjoy it

But nothing lasts. When the last of the enemies falls and everyone seems to have everything at hand, Tav feels the call for adventure once more

They did promise a companion a cure for their affliction and plan to set out of the city to follow a lead with them

This means a round of goodbyes from the friends they made in the city. Last but not least Dammon

He's surprised when he's informed the day before but figures it was only time. They have one last meal at elfsong tavern, toasting for goodluck. He admits he'll miss them.

He's disappointed he couldn't do much else the next day when he gives them some extra arrows

It doesn't strike him immediately but after the first few days the forge feels too quiet

Sometimes he would look up from his work when he hears someone approach expecting Tav to be there

He hears stories and rumors later on while having a drink in elfsong tavern.

New exploits Tav accomplished, the people they saved and the monsters they've faced. One bard started singing about their adventures and he finds himself returning to hear them

While he enjoys his work things feel a lot more monotonous lately with them gone. He finds some spark of familiarity hearing about their adventures

Tav sends letters every now and then. Briefly outlining new quests and how their doing. Finishing by saying they hope he takes care of himself

He sends his own in return, updating them of the city and the rebuilding, reassuring them he's eating regularly but that's as far as hearing from them as he got

Months go by and he hears from Jaheira about a reunion party with the heroes of Baldur's gate with the possibility of Karlach being there. He hasn't heard from her in so long, much less know how she was faring

One of the things he regrets is not finding a way to fix her engine and having to send her back to avernus when she just escaped

When he hears the other tieflings planning to write letters to this reunion party he jumps in

He's not sure how a letter would get to Karlach who's in Avernus but he is sure that Tav would find a way

So he starts it by adressing it to Tav before asking him to pass it to Karlach knowing they'll be more than happy to

When Karlach Visits

Tav reunites with some old friends to finally fix Karlach's engine. Having found Zariel's forge and plans to travel there. They need to be armed to the teeth

They just so happen to be in Baldur's Gate.

Tav brings them over to Dammon's forge, already knowing he'll be happy to see Karlach again

When they return its without any announcement as usual. He's focused on a new project when he hears a throat clear. He tells them to wait a second assuming its a client. Tav's voice catches his attention. He whirls around and sees his friend with that familiar smile

He's greets them happily but his eye catches the sight of Karlach and his tone shifts. Its a touching reunion

Its obvious how captivated he was. Tav would stand to the side admiring the scene

Eventually the conversation turns to their purpose there. Tav explains the mission and he's more than eager to help.

As they trade they enter casual conversation

The conversation between them turns to the city, Tav asking if he's eaten anything, roasting his cooking, Dammon defending said cooking, mundane things but companions are left to watch in silence as these two friends catch up

Then Karlach asks about the city and they both go in to the rebuilding efforts. Tav goes in to the various misadventures that occured, Dammon jumping in to include an emberassing moment that he saw happened to Tav.

It derails as they start bantering, bringing up inside jokes and references born from the time spent around each other in the city

Tav has their hand on his shoulder, leaning close to tell a joke. Dammon leaning back standing comfortably next to them, snorting at what they just said when Karlach pipes up-

"So how long have you two been together?"

This is getting long, will make part 2

[practically-an-x-man]

Fanfic Couples*/Relationships Ask Game

*note that when I say "couple", this does not have to indicate a romantic couple, it's just the most concise way to refer to a pair of characters. These can be any two characters, romantic or not.

Of the ones you've written, which romantic relationship has developed the fastest? How fast is it?

Of the ones you've written, what's your slowest slowburn? How slow is it?

Have you ever written a soulmate AU? If you haven't, why would/wouldn't you write one?

What's the fastest you've reached a romantic couple's first kiss (in words/scenes/chapters)? First "I love you"? Other landmarks?

Do you have any works where you refuse to reach a certain relationship landmark, for one reason or another?

Have you ever started to write a relationship and had it develop differently than you expected? How so?

Have you written any romantic couples that you think would be better off as friends? Or even enemies?

Have you ever written any friendships that could've easily become romantic relationships? How did you navigate it?

When you write, do you plan out the stages of a relationship, or just let it flow? Do you have any works where the characters seem to "write themselves"?

[Couple] has just been struck by a magic spell, and now they're mortal enemies! What happens now?

[Couple] has just stumbled into a fairy ring, and they've forgotten they ever knew each other! What happens now?

[Couple] has just found an interdimensional portal, and one of them just walked in! Does the other go after them?

Are there any consistent trends when you write a budding relationship, or does it vary by character? If there are trends, what are they?

Are there any relationship dynamics/tropes you want to write in the future, but haven't yet?

Are there any relationship dynamics/tropes you would never write?

Are there any relationship dynamics/tropes you enjoy reading about, but wouldn't want to write yourself? Vice versa?

Did you base [couple] on any existing relationships that you've seen? This can be anything: TV characters, books, even people you've known in real life.

Pick a few characters you've written for (or, for a fun twist, asker chooses). Tell me about their relationship in three sentences or less.

Pick a work/fandom you've written for. If your couple didn't end up together, who would they get close with with instead?

Has a character ever felt pulled in two directions as you wrote them? How did you resolve this?

Not all relationships are romantic. What's your favorite non-romantic relationship that you've written about?

Have you ever written a break-up scene? How did it go? Was it a permanent split?

Do you think you idealize relationships in fiction, or are your depictions grounded in reality? How often do your characters make mistakes?

When you write, do you focus more on the romantic relationships or the non-romantic ones?

How important to you is the inclusion of sex in writing a romantic couple? Do you have any asexual characters?

Do you have any characters that are arospec or otherwise wouldn't enter a romantic relationship? How do they interact with the story?

Do you have any characters who are hopeless romantics? How do they interact with the story?

Have you ever written a tragic romance? How did it turn out?

What's the most interesting friendship that you've written?

What's the most interesting familial relationship that you've written? Found family counts.

Are there any songs that remind you of [couple]? Are there any songs that remind them of each other?

Do you find it more fun to write soft, domestic romances, or dramatic thrillers?

Are there any canon romantic couples, in any media, that you just can't stand?

Are there any well-known fanon relationships (not canon), that you just can't stand?

Are there any canon non-romantic relationships you can't stand?

Have you ever overwritten a canon romance in favor of a different character/OC? Did you write a full breakup or just ignore the canon relationship?

Who's the Barbie and who's the Ken? Who's the Allan?

Who's the Romeo and who's the Juliet? Who's the Rosaline?

Who's the Prince Charming and who's the Damsel in Distress? Who's the dragon?

Pick a relationship (not necessarily romantic). What tropes apply to this relationship? What tropes does this relationship subvert?

Who's your most repressed/oblivious character? Who's your most aware character? What makes them different?

As an author, are you gentle to your characters?

How do you feel about unhappy endings? Unrequited love? Major character death?

What's your favorite type of relationship to write? What makes it most fun for you?

What type of relationship do you struggle most to write? Why is it difficult for you?

Are there any character dynamics that you've found yourself stepping outside your comfort zone to write? How so?

What's the most self-indulgent relationship you've written? Are there any particular moments/scenes that you wrote just for you?

Are there any relationships you've lost passion for writing? Are there any relationships that started slow but gained momentum over time?

What's your favorite relationship dynamic that you've seen in another work of fiction? Has this influenced your writing at all?

Free space! Brag on yourself! Advertise your writing! What are you most proud of recently?

[lizaluvsthis]

WHAT IS PAL AU- HOW MANY AUS DO YOU HAVE CURRENTLY

PAL AU is a drafted universe that Ive created, I have never yet to complete the whole summary or the descriptions/infos about the stories since I'm on art doins.

PAL is a short name for the title of "Pour and Lit"

As expected there will be angst, fluff, romance, slowburn, betrayal, drama, wholesomeness, actually- lets also count fruitiness here :)

I only have three and four's design with this art I made

Basically it's a plot how Three works on with bad guys and deals with alot of stuff. Especially stealing (his role as a secret criminal highlights this)

He is a main character (tritagonist) and known as the famous Criminal around the whole state (with a mask on his face) (DO NOT. MAKE THIS A DREAM MEME DEAR GOD...)

Age: 28

He has a son named Elliot. (He'd been called with nicknames such as "egg" "chump" "eggy boi" "buddegg" "dora-pup") since three plays also the role being a good father to his son. Elliot is adopted.

(Its eggdog but in human- I get that it would be weird for you guys but I think I'm still on track matching his personality trait to the EGGDOG here.)

Elliot is about 9-10 years old in this universe, he's a soft and loving for animals and loves to hold guns. (Toy guns, SMG3 keeps him out of reach for the guns he used since he's not that prepared yet and plus he's too young)

He's pretty much interested with video games, daily activities such as playing outside, watching people use guns, wanting to be like his dad (three), dogs.

For SMG4 he plays the role as an Undercover Cop

He is a main character on a secondary pov who runs as a Protagonist

Age: 29

SMG4 is a nice and kind person once you get to know him, he does the opposite when he covers his identity as a cop. Optimism shows to his side whenever its playing a role as a civillain/single dad. Quite foolish for three from never buying the act.

Because he knows... that SMG4 is a cop behind that disguise he's giving out. SMG4 is tasked to work on daily night shifts around the place. While the place, also is where SMG3 lives is an apartment he could only afford. With SMG4 not knowing that three is actually the criminal they've been looking for.

He also plays of the role as a father to his adopted son named Bennet (who is also Beeg SMG4 who also matches with the personality of temper) he was an orphan when SMG4 met him during an investigation from the orphanage, seeing Bennet's hobbies of how SMG4 used to do back when he was the same age as Ben's made him want to give bennet a future-

Bennet is around 11-12 years old

----

If you're wondering where the other side characters like Mario or Meggy or OTHERS- they'll show up sooner...

-----

By the way- AUs :))

Theres

"Indigo Secret" AU

Brewing Romance AU

Pour and Lit AU

The Frog Prince AU

Gone AU

Blind!SMG4 BR AU

Ehhh seems about right :))

-

YA CANT BLAME ME- I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS ON MY HEAD AND I'M BURSTING IT ALL OUT ON A PIECE OF PAPER TO PUT THE WORK N ART-

[marvelous-llama]

NCT recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

one shots

Try, try not to think about us in that way by @mafiadad5

Chenle x fem!reader (wc - 2.8k) best friends to lovers, 1st person PoV - fluff(ish), smut You and Chenle has been friends for years now, since freshman year of Highschool, you finally graduate and go on a summer trip that you guys have been fantasizing to go on since sophomore year. You've always had a crush on him, but stopped trying after he rejected you freshman year. Not wanting to ruin the friendship, you ignore your feelings.

Hidden Feelings by @daydreamingyuta

Chenle x fem!reader (wc - 0.7k) best friends to lovers - fluff Chenle was in love with you, even though he's never admitted that to you. however, after another bad date that left you crying in his arms, he decides to confess his feelings.

See My Sea by @lowkeyjaemle

Chenle x fem!reader (wc - 20k) university AU, strangers to lovers, slowburn, team captain!Chenle - angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea.

Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake? by @astayinwonderland

Chenle x fem!reader (wc - 2.2k) best friends to lovers, mutual pining - fluff, smut chenle has been away for a while and you miss your best friend-- however, everything changes when you realise you might actually love him more than a friend

series

Irrevocably by @lowkeyjaemle

Chenle x fem!reader, Mark x fem!reader (wc - 4.8k + 4.6k + 9.1k) fwb to lovers - angst, smut, fluff(ish) You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction.

[im-abanana]

Good omens 2 SPOILERS BELOW!

Let's start off by saying that I never, EVER expected that we would get canon Ineffable Bureaucracy, but here we are, and I'm so happy about it. 🥹

Most importantly, I'd never expected Gabriel and Beelzebub to be a mirror of Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship.

In season 1, Gabriel was the absolute fucking worst.

Self-centered, lacking emphaty, superb, following Heaven's rules to the letter, without a single question, and putting his job as an Archangel (or well, the Supreme Archangel, as we've learned this season) above all else, not really thinking much about Earth, humanity or the opposition's point of view/emotions.

Not only that, but he stubbornly refused to enjoy the life Earth- or anything/anyplace else but Heaven, really- could offer him, in the material (food, music, material objects, ecc...) and emotional sense of the term too, depriving himself of real friendship and love.

Then, he meets Beelzebub in the pub and, for the first time, he feels understood. After 6000 years of bearing the sense of loneliness authority and responsibility imply, and being stuck in his own, bigoted head, he finally finds someone who gets him.

On the other hand, Aziraphale has always been a... peculiar angel, to say the least. He has learned to perfectly blend in with the humans, enjoy their creations and Earth's delicacies, such as food, good music, books, magic tricks, etc... not only that, he "associated" with Crowley, a demon/sworn enemy, since the very beginning!

In season 1, Aziraphale defied God's plan, prevented the Armageddon and disobeyed the Archangels' orders just to keep living on Earth and keep seeing Crowley. Albeit he refuses to acknowledge it, he is a rebel, way more than Gabriel's ever been in 6000 years.

And yet, which one of the two decided not to take Heaven's crap anymore?

Who said "You're casting me down to Hell? Fine, I accept my fate" peacefully, almost happily, knowing they'd finally be with their loved one?

Who ran off to Alpha Centauri?

Who gave up everything they've worked for, everything they've ever known, everything they've believed in?

Gabriel.

And Beelzebub, of course.

To say I did NOT see this coming at all is an understatement.

Gabriel, the one filled with so much prejudice, ignorance and selfishness- his royal smugness, Crowley's words- chose Beelzebub and their happiness over everything, over God, only truly knowing them for like... what, 4-5 years (which is the timeskip between season 1 and 2)?

Aziraphale, as heartwrenching as it was to see, chose Heaven over Crowley (FOR NOW). After a 6000 years-old friendship/relationship!

Perhaps, having been so "distant" from Heaven itself, Aziraphale still sees it as something that can be "fixed" if led by the right person/angel (while Gabriel, being so involved in Heaven's management for millennia, probably knows better in that regard, and basically said "fuck it"- I mean, we've seen Metatron and God's behaviour, eesh), plus he's plagued by the guilt and fear of being a bad angel, and risk to Fall.

I believe Aziraphale still sees being a demon as a bad thing, he has this internalized idea he has yet to let go of. And I hope season 3 (hopefully, we'll get it!) will cover that.

Long story short, I loved this season, and I loved how they incorporated Gabriel and Beelzebub in the story.

Some might say their romance was "too quick", and while I would've loved to see more flashbacks, I think it fits.

The Ineffable Husbands are a slow, slow slowburn, and Aziraphale truly needs a wake-up call, to see Heaven for what it truly is: toxic and rotten, as Crowley said.

On the other hand, I liked that Ineffable Bureaucracy happened so "fast"- it's a nice parallel. Gabriel and Beelzebub- people who could be so fierce, cold, nasty and closed-minded in the past- immediately saw the love they had for each other, accepted it and let it change them completely.

Let them both become so affectionate with each other, too. Like, "my sweet", "wherever Beelzebub is, is my Heaven", "where Gabriel is, is forever my Hell", "I was coming to you", "silly angel", are NOT something I thought I'd hear 'em say 😂

Nor I thought "Everyday" would be their song.

[urjustaguyonahorse]

LYDIA AND STILES

Not a shocker, their love is cosmic.

Lydia's relationship with Jackson was obviously NEVER going to last and was incredibly toxic for the both of them and I'm not going to count them as even a contender because I want them both to be happy. They did love each other and it was a huge thing for them to break it off after so long though.

Stiles relationship with Malia is a little more tricky because they were each other's first love and he was her anchor. They worked perfectly as a team even if together they were a little ruthless. But at least for Stiles, you always got the feeling he knew it was going to end. He loved her but when it came down to it, she was never his first choice. Which is something NOBODY, least of ALL Malia deserves in any relationship. Their lack of trust and lack of communication eventually tore them apart and it wasn't her fault but it was meant to lead to something better for them both.

Lydia's relationship with Aidan was shallow at best, and at worst it was simply them using each other.

Lydia's relationship with Parrish was -I feel like- not good, not the vibe at all, and not worth mentioning. If you love them together I'm so sorry this is not a personal attack.

STEREK. I am so sorry Sterek stans. Even if they were closer in age than Jeff wants us to think now when they first met, and even if he gave them a literally love child in Teen Wolf: T*e M***e, nothing about their relationship was even remotely healthy or an okay way to treat someone at the peak of their chemistry in the show. Towards the back half of the show their relationship cooled down more and they have what I think is a really beautiful friendship, but romantically they aren't well matched to last like that.

Lydia and Stiles have such a lovely relationship because they've been there with each other since the beginning. Stiles went from puppy love, to genuine respect and admiration, to faith and devotion, to being all in. Lydia went from cold and hardhearted, to caring and aware, to sincere affection, to absolute love and awe. Even at the very beginning, Stiles was the only one who saw through her bullshit facade and convinced her that the best version of herself was the one she was hiding. They both push each other to be the best versions of themselves, centering each other when things get tough and restoring faith in themselves.

Even though they're only actual lovers for less than half a season with about two minutes of screen time they've been lovers tHiS wHoLe TiMe. I'm a sucker for a good slowburn. He would go to any lengths to protect her, including sacrificing himself in the process. He understands her in a way nobody else does, and knows what he needs to do to bring her back when she's spiraling. She never lets him give up on himself and refuses to give up on him even when she's the only one who even thinks he exists. She stayed by his side and refused to let him go or let him panic. She grounds him. She's logical when he's irrational. He's firm when she's emotional. They're intellectually matched and understand each other even in complex problems that nobody else is putting together

They were (partially) unwilling dance partners. They were hesitant friends. They were partners in crime. They were detectives. They were trying to keep their friends alive. They were awkwardly kissing in a boys locker room. They were emotional tethers. They had sole faith in each other. They were the only reason the other was alive. They were a power duo. They were the smartest people you know. They were going to get back to each other. They were lovers. (They were breaking up because Lydia had a dream that Stiles died in a car accident???????????????)

They essentially have a cosmic love that transcends reality, which incidentally, I am also a sucker for. When he was entirely erased from every single person's life, she still remembered him enough to be committed to getting him back even if everyone around her thought she had lost it. And she eventually brought him back from a place nobody had come back from before. How could it be anybody but them.

[railingsofsorrow]

Sun-bleached Paper Petals

[spencer reid x original character]

summary: when iris valencia sent a letter to a certain doctor reid about one of his articles, she didn't expect to receive an answer. at all. but she did get one. and they've been corresponding back and forth ever since — in the old-fashioned way. until a threatening situation forces them to meet face to face.

pairing: s.reid x oc!iris valencia

warning/content: friends to lovers trope; fluff; corny jokes; slowburn!; geniuses flirting; mentions of tw!sensitive topics: body insecurities; mental illness; signs of abuse and trauma; descriptions of injury/violence/death and case details. (I'll insert warnings in the beginning of each chapter in case it's necessary)

A/N: whoever wants to be tagged for this fic, fill this out or dm me.

A/N²: the dates in the chapters’ title are not related to days that I will post them, they're just connected to the characters letters.

navi

masterpost

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

DISCLAIMER: None of the scientific facts in here should be taken seriously, most of them are inaccurate. This is purely a work of fiction made for entertainment purposes only.

[chapters]

0.0 pinterest moodboard

0.1 meet the oc!

ACT I ━━ ‘LETTERS’ [COMPLETED!]

1.1 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 3𝚛𝚍; 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘 𝖛.

1.2 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 6st; 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗 𝖗.

1.3 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 11𝚝𝚑; 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘 𝖛.

1.4 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 13𝚝𝚑; 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗 𝖗.

1.5 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 15𝚝𝚑; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.

1.6 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 17𝚝𝚑; 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗.

1.7 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 20𝚝𝚑; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.

1.8 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 23rd; 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗.

1.9 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 25th; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.

ACT II ━━ ‘MEETING YOU’

2.1 catharsis

2.2 solus

2.3 admonitio

2.4 infidus

2.5 IN PROGRESS..

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz ; @cultish-corner ; @lover-of-books-and-tea ; @theonecalledrue

[hexonthepeach]

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 1: escape, again

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate's clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [0: prologue]

wc: 3.5k

chapter warnings: multi idol au incoming

recommended listening: take me home - ateez

The searchlight penetrates the dark water, illuminating the reefs growing over long-submerged buildings, the occasional eel or octopus darting into a broken window. Beneath the small fishing boat lies the horror of the flooded city, a place you were more familiar with in your nightmares.

You have to turn away, sickness twisting your gut with each lungful of the sea air. Focused meditation is the only thing keeping you from the panic attack threatening to bubble up and break the surface of your manufactured calm.

You know you won't be traveling anywhere near where you'd watched your mother drown, but here on the water all ghosts feel close enough to touch.

"You alright?" The navigator beside you on the bow is a tall man with a quiet demeanor, a bulky older model bionic hand and arm hidden under his trench jacket. He lets the spotlight rest in order to move closer to you, earning your flinch.

You nod, afraid to speak.

You'd expected your escorts to have little to say to you. Instead you'd been welcomed by familiar faces–a pack you knew from the lower clans, some of their faces more familiar than the others.

The big Alpha is just as nervous as you–scent spiking every time he makes eye contact, even when he sneaks looks at you from the corner of his vision.

He smells like clean sage and grapefruit . . . and canine. Mostly wolf, a rarity with the diversification initiative of your parent's generation. He must be soldier stock, you think.

"It's not too far," he assures you. "Just have to get out of the city."

"Mingi," says a deep voice over his crackling radio. "Keep up the sweep past the container ship graveyard, they've got rigs installed for salvage I'd like to avoid."

"Sorry," he says, shyly.

He returns to his work, angling the blue-white beam to reveal new scaffolding rising up from the water and the old wrecks.

The boat changes course to avoid it, putting you closer to the first of the many towers that had survived the seawall break, foundations reinforced and reclaimed as small islands in the bay. They're slums but well-maintained, with connecting bridges and sprawling docks at their bases, bright signs advertising ports for a quick drink or trade.

Further on, the color and light grow in intensity, where the megacity of Neo Seoul emerges from the water, rising up past the mountain peaks to pierce the iridescent cloud cover.

If the crowded depths beneath you are a horror then so are the skies, threat carried by long-distance drones buzzing overhead along with the occasional aerodyne. The airspace over the city is much more trafficked than over the water, white illuminated lanes marking routes in three-dimensional space.

You're waiting for your nightmare to come true, you think–a second waking experience to make your paranoia permanent.

But no one is coming for you, yet.

They won't know you're missing for a few days, assuming you were in your personal cryochamber undergoing the latest resurfacing procedure on your scar tissue. Garam had been kind enough to take your place; just one of many arrangements for your long-planned flight.

You weren't running towards Neo Seoul, of course. There was nowhere to hide from the clancorps there, no matter how good your new identity was crafted.

No, your path leads East towards the darkness of the Wild, past the industrial parks and factory ships to where the old rivers meet in mudflats and estuaries few have settled in.

And beyond that, to the decimated Old Zones, where the War's aftereffects remain in radiation hotspots and unexploded ordnance. The contamination fromcarpet bombing is the worst risk your kind can face there, unable to stop hybrid DNA from manifesting, sometimes irreversibly.

To most it's a hell better left avoided. But to you, it's your real home.

Boom.

Another AV breaks through the low hanging marine layer so close you can feel the heat from its fission engines as you flatten on the deck. You duck to hide behind one of the many cargo boxes, heart racing, but the aircraft idles on at a lower altitude in the direction of Old Seoul, matte black against the green-tinged Dome.

"Watch it, asshole," you hear someone shout from the aft deck.

You're gently pulled up from the slippery wood by another of the crew. Your breath catches in your throat, face going hot under the scarf wrapped around it.

Ever since the rendezvous point you'd kept a polite distance from this Alpha, quiet in his company. Now his hand is wrapped under your elbow and all you can think of is how much bigger he is than when you'd last seen him in the Dome.

Jeong Yunho, the target of your childhood affection, now your human trafficker.

Fate always had a funny sense of humor with you.

"Careful," he says. You quiver under his gaze, trying not to react too obviously. He has a polite kindness to his mannerisms that seems antithetical to your memory of him laying out two adult guards of a Choi heir during a sanctioned duel.

Still the same gentle face and eyes.

You're not sure if he's this pack's prime, but surely Yunho is in charge of this mission. He'd introduced himself at your rendezvous with no attempt to hide his celebrity. There'd even seemed to be the subtle implication that you should recognize him as a Lost Prince.

It had taken all of your skill in presence and manners to deny him that.

There was no way he could recognize you in turn. You'd been hidden behind veils and screens your entire life, kept a safe distance away from your cohort. Few had scented you and even if the suppression of the Dome did not apply here you had medical means, aided by the neutralizing odor of the sea.

It's too bad that isn't all you hide. You feel the breeze in your fur and panic.

Yunho clears his throat as you lift your hood back up, quickly but not quickly enough to hide the red-and-black ears tufting from your hair.

"Are those . . .?"

"Biomods. A debut gift." Your carefully practiced explanation sounds false, said so rushedly. You glance up to see him nod, cheek indented as he chews a pink lip.

"Fox," he affirms. "Unusual color."

"Calico." You explain, face kept smooth by years of practice. "All the rage right now with the lesser branches."

To your relief he quickly changes the subject, watching you discard your gloves in your pocket–now smelling vaguely of fish guts. You weren't typically boatsick, but the higher doses of suppressants had a nauseating effect.

"You'll have to tell me what it's like on the inside. Haven't been back since . . . well, you know."

"Are you an Abdicated?" you ask, feigning surprise.

"Yes," he says with an edge of humor.

"I didn't know you were a Lee."

"Mother's side," he shrugs, lying in turn.

You know better. Like many of the other Lost Princes he'd publicly expressed his distaste with the outdated system, choosing exile from Old Seoul rather than compete in the political theater and power plays required for succession.

A choice you'd never been offered, but were making all the same.

You'd been present at Inner Court for his formal renunciation, had even cried silently under your veil with the patheticness of a child losing their favorite toy. In this case, your favorite potential mate. It didn't matter that he'd never spoken to you.

"You're lucky then. You could leave," you say.

He smiles. It doesn't extend to his eyes, giving his soft face a hardness.

"Why don't we go inside the cabin. Get you out of this wind."

You let him lead you, his large hand remaining on your jacketed arm as he cages you from behind. It takes concentration to bring the alarm singing in your head down to background noise. Strategy is your fallback; you remind yourself that there's no incentive for him to return you even if he finds you out.

You pass the wheelhouse, Yunho nodding to the smaller man at the helm. He's barely visible in the low light of the digital console and sonar screen but you quickly recognize Kang Yeosang. Another of Yunho's cohort from the Royal Academy, along with Jeong Wooyoung.

You can't help but wonder what other strays he's collected. They were always bound to be a pack, and you'd secretly fantasized about being chosen by them. How silly to think of, now.

You’re shepherded into the cluttered but cozy interior of the fishing boat. Spare tech is piled up between floats and crustacean traps, a single table and bunks filling most of the space.

By the looks of it the craft is probably used for illegal salvage more than honest work, but at least it seems safe. There's a space heater and an electric appliance station which spits out lukewarm, powdery tea when Yunho jams his finger against the display enough times.

"Sorry we can't afford better hospitality," Yunho says.

You sip at your insulated mug, cringing at the bitter taste but not the warmth that spreads through you.

"I'm–my family is paying for discretion, not luxury," you answer politely. "As long as you can get me to District Nine, I have no complaints."

"Right," Yunho props up his legs on one of the fixed chairs, still bundled tight in his peacoat. "Care to enlighten me why we're headed out there?"

You sink under the Prince's gaze, deliberating on what to tell him. You settle for the truth. "I'm looking for my brother."

He sits up, booted feet thudding to the floor as he leans forward in curiosity.

"In District Nine?" Yunho's head is cocked to the side, a sight that would make you smile under any other circumstances. His underlying scent is subtle, clean–pleasing in the way Canids always are to you.

"He left the Dome a long time ago," you say. "That's the last place we heard he'd been spotted."

Yunho was always such a calm and reserved Alpha when you were younger–a rarity, attributable to the use of domesticated canine genetics by his clan. He's uneasy and fidgety now, slender fingers drumming on the plastic tabletop.

"Is he designated?"

The question is inevitable. You'd lied about your own status, buried in a massive dosage of suppressants that made you weak and tired and sick but at least kept your true nature locked away.

"Yes," you say. "Never in line for succession, of course. But he left to join a free pack. Like you, I suppose?"

"I see," he says. "Do you know which one? We might be able to help–"

You shake your head, politely. "No. I'm not worried. Once I'm there, I will find him."

You quickly pretend to be interested in the news, with the tiniest flicker of dread that you'll see your face revealed to the world along with your escape.

Of course that's impossible–they'd kept you hidden since you were thirteen. If not for the scars than for your comms-team-constructed persona of chastity, purity, piety and of course, mourning.

No, the only imagery of you that exists are the traditional portrait commissions circulated amongst the Syndicate for approval of your future marriage contract. As soon as the bells rung to indicate the three years allotted to mourn the Imperatrix were over, the official succession vote would take place, the harem arranged well in advance.

102 days from now, you think.

There's no audio coming from the Betafax feed on the wall monitors but captions in five languages are displayed over footage of a firefight on one of the main air lanes, already suppressed by NSMR forces. Other scrolls and alerts notify of dangers in various districts, spot-hired security and armed triage teams responding while media hounds vie for live, up close coverage.

"Is it always like that out here?" you ask. Your exposure has been entirely through Betafax news feeds, typically scrubbed by Imperial censors. Occasionally a flash of the violence would make it through.

"The war didn't end out here," he remarks, laughing when he sees your expression twist a bit. "Well, not in there, either, but at least there's no lethal weapons allowed."

"They'll just kill you with words," you agree.

Yunho nods sympathetically.

"Are you hungry?" he asks. "We don't have much but–"

"I could hear her stomach growling over the engine." Someone says behind you. You turn with composure only to gag, hand flying to your face.

You smell the catch before you see it, a plastic bucket of crabs and a still limply flopping fish dropped on the table beside you. For a moment you think you can fight the involuntary nausea but in a second you've rushed past them and out the plastic sheeting over the door, retching up the meager contents of your stomach into the water below.

"You couldn't clean those outside?" Yunho asks. "Conversation was too interesting," the other man responds acerbically. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

You're surprised more by the hand on your back than the intimate term, acid-burned nostrils overwhelmed with the telltale musk of another fox.

It would be a relief, but you know better than to trust the creature patting at you like your kin.

Wooyoung, just as notorious. Discriminated against like you, for similar but separate reasons. He's only a little taller than you, sharp eyes narrowed in the blue glow of a nearby port.

"Seasick, huh?" He cackles, somehow not unkindly.

"Yeah." You nod, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. "Ever since I was a kid."

He swipes a hand over his black ears, looking bashful. "You alright with a seafood dinner?"

Your continued retching is enough of an answer.

Wooyoung cooks a different kind of stew–rehydrating strips of artificial meat in a broth that tastes nothing like you've had before, mixed with root vegetables. With the added flavor of freedom, you feel like it might be the best meal you've ever had.

Thankfully the boat ride is swift, adrenaline pumping through your system well after the shoreline begins to darken. Lights dwindle where the old river-running highways appear, whole sections obliterated by a century of disaster. You know autocars and AVs can still come out here but they don't—not with the fears of automated turrets.

According to what your mother had told you growing up in the Wild, most of the stories about what lay beyond was myth. The bigger threat was being tracked going out without clearance, strictly penalized by the Syndicate.

It adds a feeling of finality to your journey as you reach a lone dock in the neverending swamp.

The antique light post at its head contrasts with the cool headlights of an old ground vehicle, military grade and scarred by shrapnel.

Four other men wait on the shore, signaling with a hend-held LED in a code you don't understand. What you can read when you disembark is that one of the men is pointing a heavily tricked gun at you, its carbon shell glowing red when it lifts to your face.

"Welcome," the stranger says, voice a rasp.

You freeze, rucksack dropping to the planks with a thud.

"That's unnecessary, Captain." Yunho says behind you. "We checked her back at the Old Wall."

"I'll decide what's necessary." The leader says. He gestures to the shadow beside him. "Let's have a look."

The light is lifted over you, blinding you between glimpses of a cold face and cat-like eyes. This one is a Felid, claws scraping over your scalp as they rip the hood from your head.

You figure this half of the crew must have been in the Wild longer–affected by jimseung on a noticeable level.

"The color profile matches." The Felid's voice is deeper than you expected. Your scarf is removed next, and you see the silhouette of an angled head as he inspects the faint mesh of scars leading down your jaw to your neck.

"Interesting," the Captain remarks.

The Felid is gentler when he reaches for your coat, black-tipped fingers splaying in front of your face to show his claws are retracted before he reaches down to lift the long trench.

"Check her a little more thoroughly," The Captain says. Behind him, someone laughs.

You whip around to look at Yunho, suddenly desperate. "What is the meaning of this treatment? Didn't you tell them I was clear?"

He shakes his head, breeze ruffling the dark hair across his forehead, and that's when you understand which emotion is coloring his expression: pity.

"You knew?"

You understood it would only be a matter of time before they found out but you'd hoped it would be after you were well on your way.

Not from the start.

"They sell cheap knock-offs of your scent profile in department stores," Wooyoung says lightly, approaching with a slinking posture. "Popular among the omega proxies, of course."

He snatches your bag away, earning your snarl. The Captain chuckles behind you as the fox proceeds to rummage through your clothing for valuables.

"Your blockers are good," Yunho says. "But not that good."

You'd once collected his pictures and planned in detail the words you'd say during ritual courtship. You regret it. The illusion is shattered with his next words.

"Show us, please," he says, in the tell-tale rumble of an order.

The Alpha's compulsion is immediate, your only form of control or choice in how you do what you're bidden. You hold him with your glare as you reach down to unstrap the appendage from the back of your leg, pulling it out of your coat where they can all see it, black and silver-tipped and half your body length.

Unlike a biomod your tail has a mind of its own, signaling your very real aggression by twitching out of your grasp. Your breath steams in the light as your energy spikes, the tickle of fur threatening to grow out of you as you round on the men behind you.

"Like what you see?" you growl.

The gun-wielding Captain lowers his aim, laughing with a manic energy.

"Oh that's rich. A few dozen prized omega females in all of Old Seoul and we're hitched with the only one the Syndicate would trade them all for."

"Your final payment won't be transferred until I'm–" you begin.

"You have more money than the Syndicate? Doubtful," the Captain says. He has a devilish expression. "Luckily for you we have a strict policy on taking jobs from those bastards."

"We're not going to send you back," Yunho echoes.

You relax a bit, pulse still thudding in your ears.

"I don't understand." Mingi steps forward, crouching down to scent the top of your head. You think he's probably been fighting the instinct since the boat. "Who is she?"

"A Queen." Wooyoung answers, zipping the bag up. He returns it to your feet, tentatively, moving to touch your tail when you don't snap at him. You're not surprised when he buries his face in it, shoulders relaxing in pleasure.

"Nothing like it in the world."

You see Yunho reach out to place a hand on Yeosang's shoulder, stopping him from moving any closer.

It was convenient that your pheromones had a soporific effect, less so that they tended to draw other designated like an invisible string tugging at their animal brains.

"She's just a Princess Consort." Yunho says. "For now. You’re standing in front of the future Imperatrix of New Goryeo, Daughter of Heaven and the East Sea, the Lotus Princess Lee ____."

You shudder at the sound of the official title. Every word of it was anathema to you.

"A royal pain in the ass," the Captain jokes. "But a valuable one."

"So what?" you ask, ignoring the effect you're having on his hounds. "Ransom me to the Syndicate? You might as well kill me."

"Halatus has a reputation to maintain." The Felid answers before anyone else, tugging Wooyoung off of you with a distinct look of disgust on his handsome features.

"That's right," the Captain continues, stepping forward to snatch the necklace from your neck before you can respond. Yunho has to grab you from behind, ordering you to stop before you can rip at any skin you can reach with your bared, partially-transformed teeth.

"There's still some honor amongst thieves and liars, after all," he says, inspecting the thick metal chain and the tiny gems inlaid in the links, your mother's last gift to you.

"We'll take you to the end of the line. And you’ll pay extra, with insurance. Princess."

[previous] [next]

[ohmeadows]

what are some of your favorite and/or most unhinged kafhime thoughts?

oh boy let's seeeee. and also caveat of course these are my own headcanons but i'm not going to fight to the death for them and eventually i'm sure they too will change. it's just fun!

so kafka is into fragile things right. but the real thrill of something being fragile and ephemeral is the fear we have to contend with at losing it, at watching it be destroyed and crumble. take the fear away and it's not the same. and that's kafka in a nutshell, right, she lacks the fear component. having fear again would make her truly appreciate the fragility of everything withering around her. the fragility of love.

i think kafka is very empathic just not in the regular degular sense. again, lack of fear, so she feels empathy but without the fear that tinges our social conventions compelling her to extend it beyond those she considers near her. and it expresses itself in ways others would find gross, i guess, like how she quarantines blade's mind and senses to keep his mara contained. you can be empathic without being soft-hearted or overly friendly.

both kafka and himeko are very sure of who they are as people and aren't seeking validation of themselves in the other. it makes slowburn extra great in my opinion. himeko doesn't need kafka, strictly speaking, and vice versa. that calm self-confidence and self-assurance is why i see them as being more middle-aged, like they've been around, they have tested themselves, they have done the work and resolved a lot of issues. well, at least himeko has. and so them being together becomes a choice, a curiosity, a kind of... dance towards something.

i think kafka falls in love first, and himeko way later. himeko keeps a lot to herself, she's travelled for a while and has said a lot of goodbyes. it's not that she is an ice queen but she is reserved in letting others close.

i think a lot about her casualness on jarilo-vi. she worried very little about the trailblazers on the ground. she seems a bit more blasé about dangers than i initially assumed and the way she shrugs off kafka's repeated interferences in the keeping up with star rail was so funny. she's got this sense of direction heading forward and kafka loves the chase to keep up with her. himeko comes out on top a lot and it has kafka coming back for more.

also, corny maybe but their dates would 1. be mostly arranged by kafka, 2. extremely over the top romantic. think candlelit dinners in a gazebo with soft rain outside. think orchestral concerts with box seats. think invitation-only masked balls. (especially the bigger functions are all about slipping away for quiet moments just the two of them. the contrast.) do these dates impress himeko? nope. she finds something to critique and kafka finds that so endearing.

[dtheshadows]

Ok, it's time to post about my opinions on the different relationships, so I'm not doing so in the middle of the night when I'm supposed to be sleeping.

To start off, I just want to say that these are all just my own opinions at the moment of posting, and I'm not trying to drag anyone for what they ship. People can enjoy what they want even if I'm just meh on it.

Crystal and Charles

Alright, so let's get this one out of the way first. I appreciate how the show kind of portrayed this as them going to each other for comfort more than for love. That being said, if this shows' goal was to make me think they were going to be an endgame pairing, then it failed. I think that they'll have their thing, but settle on just being friends, and that can still be beautiful. I just don't see it working out in the long term with Crystal being alive, and I don't feel like she is going to die. The show works well with her being alive and the boys being dead. Half the comedy is her interacting with the boys while everyone else just stares at her like wtf. They could very much be right person wrong time.

Monty and Edwin

I really like Monty. I love him, and that scene with him and Edwin on the swings was so sad. I don't know how much further this pair could go with Monty being a bird again, but I want to hope he can return. I feel like there is a little more to explore with this being that they were each others first kiss, and it could be cute, but not endgame.

Cat King and Edwin

I'm very meh on this one, unfortunately. I can see the appeal, but it just doesn't read to me, and I tried getting into it. I don't think they'll be endgame, but this one has the 2nd most potential.

On a separate note, this is the pairing that also makes me question why they didn't age the characters further. I feel like how ghosts mature after death needs to be explained a bit further. Otherwise, I see this being quite a fandom divider, and there has already been some division. Again, though, ship what you want. I literally don't care because these are fictional characters.

Charles and Edwin

Obviously, this is the big one. I adore this ship, and it has the potential to be exceedingly beautiful, whether it ends in friendship or romance. I, for one, want it to be canon because I would love to get a queer slowburn best friends to lovers romance arc for once. I feel like I never see long-standing male friendship that becomes romantic. It's either they've become close because they are into each other, or they were friends, but not best friends, and it always happens in a single season. I will say as well though that if they just remain friends I'd be perfectly fine with it as long as they revisit the possibility of it happening, because you can't have Charles say what he does in response to Edwin's confession and not revisit. Like the chapter isn't closed yet.