#plus companions is more fighting/battle

[extervus]

Sorry to Skyrim OC post in 2022 [<- not actually sorry] but I'm starting a new character and this one is gonna be a Skaal-born Nord Werebear hunter (as in, she is a werebear who is also a hunter. She doesn't hunt werebears). Her whole deal is that she's trying to embrace her Skaal roots (she was adopted and raised by a Dunmer and Imperial couple outside of Solstheim after her birth parents died) by becoming a great hunter. And of course she's a werebear so that's another reason she really likes to hunt. She's also gonna be a master at illusion magic because her Dunmer father had her go to magic school when she was young so she uses that to aide and hone her hunting skills. No she doesn't consider it cheating. At some point she's gonna join the Dark Brotherhood because her Imperial father had ties to them so they caught wind of her marksman and illusion skills and reached out to her. Her name is Vibeke :)

[ohdeerfully]

Spoilers ahead for the final episode!

Imagine reader being a healer for others but is cursed to not being able to heal themselves.

Like during the final battle, their skills are heavily relied on while they also fight along side them. Afterwards they rush to find their lover Alastor to heal the wound on his abdomen. Poor thing was so worried about healing him that they forgot about patching up themselves.

hello everybody im alive........... hello hold your applause /j

i got two very similar requests so i combined them into one! hope thats alright with the two anons! hugs and kisses

Stitches

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: nothing serious, just some briefly graphic(ish) descriptions of violence/gore, reader referred to as female but doesnt influence plot

join my discord!

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It was supposed to be “no big deal” for him; that’s what he had promised you. You worried, of course, but knew better than to pester and beg for him to change his mind. Plus… of all demons to hold back Adam, Alastor seemed like the most capable. You had to trust him. He promised.

You were in the midst of slaying an Exterminator of your own, cutting it down with a sword lined in angelic steel, but you couldn’t help that your train of thought kept returning to the Radio Demon, who was currently on the roof of the Hotel maintaining a forcefield that prevented more angels from joining the battle.

You allowed your eyes to glimpse up towards said roof even though you knew it’d be impossible to see him from your position on the ground. You had looked just in time, however, to see the shield that surrounded the battleground begin to dissolve, an opening blooming around the figure of Adam. 

A sickly cold feeling of dread churned down your spine and into your stomach, but you forced yourself to stay focused. Alastor would be fine, surely. It’s not like he said it was an invincible shield. You had other things to worry about, anyway, when you realized a wasp-like swarm of Exterminators had made their way in from the dissolving forcefield, their glittering white wings and shining angelic weapons molding together in a blur.

You fought along a small group of demons from Cannibal Town, providing aid and healing when possible. It seemed to go on for hours; stab an angel, tear one away from a companion, heal, stab, save, heal… it somehow began to feel monotonous and repetitive. Your whole body stung, littered with wounds ranging in extremity, but you couldn’t stop. Not if you were going to win this thing.

That monotony was broken when the chaos halted for a brief moment—not even a second. You had seen Charlie looking up in… fear? Shock? So, you looked, and your breath hitched. It took you a moment to process.

Why was Adam flying above, looming, grinning, analyzing… Why, when Alastor was supposed to be keeping him occupied? The immediate answer that came to mind brought back that sickening feeling from earlier, but increased a hundredfold. It seemed that Charlie also had a similar idea.

You couldn’t ignore the feeling this time and, against your better judgment, took off towards the crumbling Hotel, abandoning your position as healer. They could wait, honestly. The pounding in your ears and anxiety in your body clouded the sensation of angelic spears grazing past you, filling your already burdened body with more gashes.

You were halted by a powerful beat of wings, wind pushing you backwards onto your back. You scrambled into a sitting position, leaning on your arms. All of the aching, stinging pain from the night seemed to rush in all at once because of the interruption, and you could barely keep your eyes steady on the man in front of you.

The first man, at that—standing all too high-and-mighty above you, a twisted grin curling up his mask. 

“Hey, bitch,” He said almost casually, grabbing you by the hair and lifting you up to be eye level with him. You stifled a pained cry at the sensation, though your eyes filled with tears, betraying both your fear and pain. You hated yourself for looking so weak in front of Adam, but you were almost too exhausted to mask it.

“The fuck did you do to Alastor?” You talked through a mouthful of blood. You spat some out in his face, to which the grip on your head tightened but he seemed otherwise unbothered. You did see a glint of madness in his eyes, though.

“So you’re that fine babe of his?” Adam mocked, looking up and down tastelessly. You didn’t expect much more from the ‘dickmaster’ but you couldn’t help but feel disgusted. “Satan’s daughter told me all about you when she was trying to tell me you gross fucks could be redeemed.”

He started rambling out a multitude of insults and curses. It seemed fitting, you thought, that the stuck-up first man would be too full of himself to keep his guard up and just start going off on a tangent about how cool and awesome he is versus how gross and weak your kind is.

“I mean, the fuck? You all sucked ass at being alive, so why the shit would we let you up into heaven? And, quite frankly, too fucking ugly to live up th—” He choked on the last few words he had, his eyes widening in shock and pain. He dropped you to the ground.

During his rant you had managed to use your heel to kick up a stray spear from beneath you. His tirade had given you enough time to balance the weapon between your feet, aim, and jam it forward into his stomach. The robe he wore darkened, glistening gold seeping into the fabric and from the hole you punctured into him.

“You–” He spat, hovering his shaking hands around the impaled spear. He gingerly pressed a hand against the wound, lifting his bloody palm to his face to look at the mess. He looked up, down, up again, and took a quivering step towards you. There were a million expressions in his eyes all at once; rage, fear, pain, disgust… 

“You fucking bitch,” He took another step, reached a hand out towards you. “You can’t kill me! Nobody can kill Adam! You’re just a worthless, sick, good-for-nothing sinner that couldn’t—fuck!” He stumbled and fell forward, and you jerked away as his fist nearly closed around the hem of your shirt. As much as you hated the guy and wanted him dead, you still cringed at the sight of him falling onto the spear and impaling it completely through his body.

You heard a distant cry of his name, but you didn’t hesitate to see who it was. You took off into the hotel, albeit slowed by a painful limp, and made your way up the stairs towards the radio tower.

There was an ominous feeling in the air as you ascended the ladder into the nearly demolished tower, slowly opening the hatch into the room. An intense, static-y feeling smothered your senses, hair raising and skin prickling at the sensation. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling and peered around the dark room. 

Claw marks and a trail of blood caught your attention, leading your eyes towards a corner where the demon you wanted to see most sat against. He had been wordlessly watching you with glowing red eyes since you entered.

“Al,” You said almost breathlessly as you rushed forward, ignoring the way your leg shot pain throughout your body in protest. You fell gracelessly to your knees in front of him.

“I don’t want you here,” He said rather plainly, a hiss in his voice as he spoke through his teeth and a grimace of a smile. You ignored the comment, eyes traveling over his body before settling on his palm, which was pressed against his abdomen. There was a still-growing patch of dark blood seeping through his shirt and between his fingers.

You reached your hand out towards him, flinched to a halt for a moment when his claws tightened around the fabric of his shirt, but continued. He made no move otherwise to stop you, but you could feel the tension in the air growing as the static ambience got louder.

“I can take care of myself,” He said, his other hand suddenly snatching your wrist. His grin widened, but his eyes narrowed. You frowned at him.

“Yeah, but it’d be a lot easier for me to just fix you now,” You retorted, trying to jerk your hand away from his grip. He didn’t yield. “If you stop being so damn stubborn.”

“I’ve dealt with much worse, my dear,” He continued to convince you to leave him alone, his voice smooth with that manipulatively suave voice he put on sometimes. Unluckily for him, though, you were just as stubborn as him.

“But I’m here this time to help you,” You finally managed to free your wrist from him, your sharp expression unwavering from his own, which seemed equally aggravated. Maybe he was too weak to actually stop you, or maybe he actually did want your help and just wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t stop you from lifting his bloodied hand from his wound.

You pursed your lips at the grizzly sight, but said nothing. You ignored the stinging smell of blood that flooded your nose. You hovered your hands over the wound, channeling the energy in your body that granted you the ability to rapidly heal others. A faint light flowed from your palm and into the gash across Alastor’s torso, forming glowing stitches that weaved throughout the damaged skin.

Periodically glancing up at his face as you worked, you watched for any sign that told you to stop, but it never came. He stayed silent the whole time, which was… rare, from him. You would never admit this out loud, but Alastor seemed almost… pitiful, in this silent, weakened state. The Radio Demon himself, reduced to a bloodied, passive husk of himself.

After healing so many demons during the battle outside, you had spent so much energy. You were already so weak and exhausted, but you pushed yourself to force just a bit more—

“There,” With a weak sigh, you sat back, admiring your own handiwork. Even though it was magic, it did take some mental ability to know how to use your power. “Was that so hard?” You chided him jokingly.

He gingerly drug a clawed finger down the stitches, analyzing it for himself. 

“I have to admit,” He began, looking up at you. “It would have been nice to have you in my early years as— dear?”

You barely heard what he was saying as all of your senses seemed to get foggy all at once. Your vision blurred and speckled, you ears felt muffled, and you swayed with lightheadedness. You pressed a hand to your face, trying to steady your breath.

“I’m good,” Your voice came out in a quiver. “I think I just—”

You don’t necessarily even remember fainting, but reason that you must have as you stared at the ceiling above you. You woke up ten minutes ago, and spent the time piecing together everything that happened. How much time has passed since then? A couple hours? Days? It was hard to say. Though, you thought as you looked around. The hotel looks… damn good all things considered. 

The door creaked open and your ears perked at the sound of a familiar voice humming some tune that you couldn’t recognize. Considering the atmosphere wasn’t tense, you actually welcomed the prickling, static-like sensation that Alastor’s presence brought. 

“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes!” He announced pleasantly, setting a plate rattling with two neat little glasses of warm liquid on the bedside table. You eyed them and quirked your eyebrow.

“Seems you were ready for it,” You said, commenting on the fact that he brought two cups.

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I wasn’t au fait to my darling’s status?” He explained, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over you. He would never admit that he brought up two cups every time he checked on you just in case. 

His overall demeanor seemed appropriately confident and indifferent, but his eyes held an uncharacteristic look of tenderness and worry as he looked over you, analyzing your condition. He sat at the edge of the bed, picking that plate up again and offering you a cup.

You sat up against the headboard and took it with a light smile, warming your hands on the smooth surface. You enjoyed the aroma of the tea, and you realized it was your favorite. How sweet.

The room was silent, save for the quiet sound of a radio that seemed to just… radiate from him… but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Now that you were sitting up, you took the chance to look down and over yourself. Bandages were wrapped tightly over your arms, chest, stomach, legs… basically everywhere. You were suddenly all too aware of the dull ache that afflicted your entire body.

When you looked up, you noticed Alastor had been looking at you rather intensely. His expression was weird and unreadable. You tightened your lips awkwardly at the strangely passionate look in his eyes, looking into random directions to try to ignore it. You tried to concentrate on taking another sip from the cup in your hand, bu, to your dismay, it was already empty. You sat it down on the plate.

“How’s my stitchwork holding up?” In an attempt to dissipate your own awkwardness, you reached towards his abdomen. He caught your hand gently, directing it away from himself. But he didn’t let go.

“No doctor in all of Hell could have done better,” He complimented. He still had a hint of that weird expression. “If only you could fix yourself up the same. Fortunately I have some experience from my time alive…” He trailed off.

You couldn’t contain yourself anymore, jumping forward and tightening your arms around his neck. The static in the air sharpened for a brief second, matching the tenseness in his body, but slowly returned to a normal frequency. After a few more seconds, you felt him slide his own arms around your waist, pressing you against himself.

“You scared the fuckin’ shit out of me,” You said, voice muffled by his coat. “I thought Adam killed you. I thought I was going to find your body buried under the rubble.”

“So you avenged me by killing Adam yourself? I appreciate it,” He remarked lightly, a slight chuckle rumbling from his chest. His voice was low, breath tickling your ear as he held you with a feather-light but somehow still firm grip. 

Alastor was quiet for another moment, and you realized the static in the air had completely dissipated. You also realized the pressure of his arms wrapped around you was getting increasingly tighter.

“You worried me as well,” He said finally. “You were out like a hibernating bear for days. You worried everyone.” You pulled your head out from the crook of his neck and met his gaze.

“Can’t a gal get her beauty rest?” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder against him playfully. He swayed for a moment at the contact, but the eye contact never broke. Wait, was he getting closer? 

Instinctually your eyes closed, and the briefest kiss was placed on your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. Before you could open your eyes, Alastor placed his hand on your head and pressed you back against his chest. He then began rubbing his hand gently on your back in a soothing motion.

Despite being in bed for apparently days, you still felt tired. You sank into him as his claws drug gentle shapes against your skin, careful to avoid bandaged spots. He hummed a quiet tune, and you noticed his microphone of a cane, which was laying against the bedside table, emitted an accompanying song.

“Maybe redemption isn’t all that,” You commented with a sigh, lazily picking at the hem of Alastor’s collar.

“Hmm?” He prompted you to continue.

“Is Hell really so bad if you’re with your favorite soul?” It felt corny to say, but you couldn't really find a better way to phrase it. Plus, you couldn't take this rare moment of tenderness for granted.

His hand paused for a moment, and he gently squeezed your arm in response. You felt him press another light kiss to the top of your head.

“I know, now,” He finally replied. “Just the feeling.”

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Lucky Break Chapter 4

Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader

5.8k words

Beginning / Previous / Next

The longest chapter yet, but at least this arc is finally wrapped up!

Just as you thought, you could hear them before you could see them.

“Sounds like they’ve got this covered. I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I need to go get something that belongs to me. Bye!” Nami slapped you on the shoulder and then diverted from the path you were following.

“Wait, I don’t have anything planned! What am I supposed to do about any of this?!” You called out after her, but she paid you no mind, the woman was on a mission. The light jog you were doing trickled down into a standstill. 

What were you supposed to do?

There isn’t exactly a guide for this, and even if there was, you can’t remember having read it. 

There was yelling and the sound of weapons clashing no more than a block away from you. Wait- That’s it! Weapons! You need a weapon! You can’t just charge into battle and help your new companions empty handed.

But where would you find one? Well, this town is something of a war zone, maybe there’s a weapon lying around? You would settle for even just a kitchen knife at this point. Literally anything to give you some semblance of protection.

Hoping that Luffy and Zoro will be okay until you can help, you scurry down an alleyway. “Come on, come on, give me something,” you mutter under your breath. Your eyes dart around wildly, scanning the surrounding area. There are some stray bricks and broken planks of wood from the buildings being destroyed. That could work potentially, but you decide to look around a little longer.

A structure catches your eye ahead of you. Scaffolding next to a house that hadn’t been finished  yet. A relieved grin spreads across your face. Construction tools! You could use a saw or a hammer or something like that!

There were some crates and tool boxes lying on the ground, all open. The boxes have what appear to be blueprints and building materials. The toolboxes are damn near empty. Some nails and screws litter the bottom of it, plus a couple of tools that won’t help you like a tape measure. 

“Shit!” You kicked the nearest toolbox in anger. What were you supposed to do? Bare knuckle box some armed super-powered pirates? Feeling crushed and frustrated, you drop down into a squat and put your head between your hands, pulling on your hair.

This was so stupid and unfair. You can’t even remember your own name, and now the only people willing to help you are having to fight on their own while injured and you’re helpless to do anything. Why are you even here? For what purpose? What happened to get you to this point?

A rush of air, followed by a clanging noise right in front of you startled you. The shock made you fall onto your ass, scared that you were under attack. A quick once over of the alley revealed that you were still alone. What was that?

Then, a piece of paper flits to the ground just ahead of you. It lands on a coiled piece of metal that you don’t remember being there before. Is that what made the noise? Hesitantly, you reach out to grab the paper. There’s something written on it.

“Lucky”

What an interesting event

Losing your memories was not my intent

To aid in your journey

Please take this urumi 

“A”

Next to the letter “A”, was an ink stamp. One you recognized. You fished out the necklace from under your shirt, and sure enough, the stamp matched it. A jolly roger with a wand clenched between its teeth.

Where did you get this necklace from initially, and how did “A” know about your new nickname? How did they know where you were? You look up at the rooftops, but see nothing and no one. You hadn’t heard anyone approach either. It’s like these things just appeared out of thin air.

Much like you did according to Luffy.

A loud explosion rang out and shook the ground. Oh right! You’re supposed to be in a battle! You clamber onto your feet and pick up the so-called urumi by what you believe to be a handle while stuffing the note into your satchel. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you have no idea what an urumi is supposed to be. You assume it’s a weapon, but why would a weapon be so… limp?

The “blade”, if you can call it that, unraveled and drooped to the ground. It was like some bizarre love child of a whip and a sword. How was something like this supposed to help you? Is it even sharp? Gingerly, you stroke the edges of the blade. 

“Ow! Okay, yeah, that’s sharp,” just lightly touching in was enough to draw a couple drops of blood. You bring the finger to your mouth, feeling a little dumb now for managing to cut yourself within seconds of getting your hands on this thing. You have no idea how to use any weapon, much less one so unique.

Experimentally, you hold it out and flick the blade away from you. It cuts through the air and cleanly slices through a leg of the scaffolding like a hot knife through butter. The structure shifts slightly, but remains standing.

You can’t help but eye the weapon warily, this thing seems extremely dangerous. Great for dealing with enemies, bad for you if you aren’t careful and don’t know what you’re doing. Which you don’t.

It would be good to go and help your companions now that you’re armed but you want to get a better feel for this thing before charging into battle. Swaying it back and forth is helping to get a better feel for the weight of it, but the method in which you could safely wield it is still beyond you.

“There she is! The liar that tricked and made a fool of us!”

You were so focused that you hadn’t even heard the small band of enemies approaching. Their clothes were torched and skin burned, and they looked furious. With swords raised, they ran right at you, bloodlust in their eyes.

A shriek emitted from your throat, and your arm flailed as you panicked. The urumi’s blade struck the scaffolding again, effortlessly going through several legs before wedging itself into the brick wall. The structure pitched forward and groaned. Your attackers looked up just in time to see the whole thing come down on them. All of them were pinned under the weight of it plus the supplies that had been piled on. Some of the people were knocked out by the falling material, while one was left awake.

He was trapped, but could move his head just enough to scowl at you. “I bet you think you’re really clever! Well you won’t get away with this, Captain Buggy never loses! It’s only a matter of time before he takes your head for this trickery!” Venom dripped from every word, his loathing so tangible that you think you could cut it.

“Not really, I’ve just,” you yanked on the urumi, trying to dislodge it, “got a lot of dumb luck it seems.” And some magical note and weapon giver, but that’s hardly something to bring up in casual conversation. Damn, that thing was really in there. You readjust your grip and pull again. There’s a creak, and then it breaks free. It came loose so suddenly that it made you stumble as the blade flung around you, narrowly missing that one guy’s head.

The man screamed, pulling his head back into the rubble like a turtle retreating into its shell, “Are you trying to kill me?!”

“Weren’t you trying to kill me?!” The double standards up in here were insane. They could gang up on you, but you almost accidentally hit him and now you’re the bad guy? Ridiculous. He fell silent and didn’t answer, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get going.”

Realistically, you don’t think it’s a good idea to be slinging this thing around, especially near Luffy or Zoro, but it was comforting to at least have something now. You examine the urumi closely, contemplating the best way to carry it. There’s a loop on the handle, and you get an idea. 

Carefully, you wind it around your waist and feed it into the loop. Sure enough, it fits together snugly, and now it looks like you have a strange belt on. Alright, you’re feeling a little bit better now, hell you even stopped a few attackers (albeit accidentally).

Now it’s time to actually join the fight.

Well… Maybe you’ll assess the situation first. You just needed to figure out how to do so without being caught unprepared. Getting onto a rooftop could work. The house in front of you had a pretty low roof, climbing onto it shouldn’t be too hard. 

You kick a crate close and hop on. It takes some effort, sure, but you’re able to pull yourself up. The shingles dig into you through the clothes, but it’s hardly the worst thing you’ve been through today. Finally, you can see what’s going on. It looks like there are only four people involved in this fight. There’s Luffy and Zoro, of course. Buggy is also there, seemingly unharmed from the cannon fire earlier. You suppose that isn’t too surprising considering his weird powers. Then there’s also some guy on a unicycle because, sure, why not? 

Zoro and the unicyclist are fighting each other. Zoro is fighting hard, but it’s clear even from your perch that he’s struggling to fight with his injury. Luffy is too preoccupied with Buggy to be able to help him, and you’re positive that you would just hurt him more if you were to charge in with your unwieldy weapon of not-choice.  

What else was there to do? You’re scanning the area for ideas, seeing lots of rubble and injured pirates strewn about. One of which being Richie, who was currently licking his wounds. 

Hang on, you might know what to do now.

A hand digs around in your pants pocket and pulls out the laser pointer you put in there earlier. You don’t know what the range on this bad boy is, but hopefully it’s going to be strong enough for what you’ve got planned. 

Pointing it in the direction of the white lion, you click it on. Lucky for you, it reaches, and a red dot is just ahead of Richie. He doesn’t seem to have noticed it, so you wiggle it around. His head snaps up, and you rejoice on the inside.

He reaches a paw out to it, but you move it away. At first, he’s startled, but then he’s up on his feet and in pursuit. You keep moving it away from him, zipping it around to keep him interested. If you could get him a little closer, you should be able to help Zoro. You doubt that unicycle boy is going to be able to fight well if there’s a lion on top of him.

You risk a glance over to them, only to notice something else. Buggy is using his powers for a sneak attack! Shit! Change of plans, you need to throw him off instead!

Hastily, you move the dot onto his back and pray that Richie goes for it. The lion sees it and pauses, but then he crouches and creeps closer. Yes! Just a little bit more! Come on, Richie! His tail flicks wildly, and he then pounces.

Buggy hits the ground with an indignant shriek. He’s kicking and screaming, “Mohji! Get your damn lion under control!” 

You did it! You helped! Taking another look at Zoro, you see him land a finishing blow to the unicyclist. This is going much better than you would have thought! With that guy out of the way, everyone can focus on taking down Buggy.

Luffy was first to take this opportunity. Buggy had barely gotten back onto his feet after being pounced on by Richie, only to get punched by the rubber captain. The blow sent him tumbling head over heels away from him. Luffy wasn’t about to let up and continued the assault, but Buggy was able to get onto his feet and scramble out of the way of the next blow.

They engaged in a back and forth, each using their unique powers to try and get one over on the other. You tried to use your laser pointer again, but Mohji had Richie’s full attention while he was scolding him for attacking the captain. Well there goes that idea. At least you got it to work once.

You army crawl backwards so you can climb down from the roof, but stop when you notice something red flying right at you.

Oh shit, that’s Luffy!

There isn’t even enough time to brace for impact before the human wrecking ball crashes into the building and brings everything down on top of him, you included. You yelp and fall directly on top of him, disoriented but otherwise fine.

Luffy, entirely unbothered by the whole affair, helps you get up off of him, “Oh hey, Lucky! I was wondering when you were going to get here!” He stood and pulled you with him while readjusting his hat.

“Sorry, I just needed to pick up something first,” your hand drifted down to your new weapon, still getting used to even having one. The presence of one feels so foreign that you can’t imagine you ever carried one in the past.

He waved off your apology, “Don’t worry, it’s basically over already! I’ll finish this here and now!” Luffy bounced out of the crumbled building and got ready to do just that.

“Excuse you! Don’t underestimate me! And why are you talking to my crewmate?!” 

What? No. How could this guy still think you’re still on the same team? That’s not possible. He saw you run to Luffy’s aid with the key you stole from him. Maybe that cannonball did hit him after all and knocked his common sense right out.

“Huh? Lucky is your crewmate?” Luffy’s head tilted to the side, genuine confusion on his face.

Several of Buggy’s pirates piped up, “She obviously tricked you, Captain!”

“No one can trick me! Be nice to our newest member!” Buggy whirled around and actually started scolding them. Is he stupid? What is happening?

“I’m not in your crew! I lied to you so I could try and save him,” you clarified while pointing at Luffy, amazed that this even needed to be said. Luffy immediately accepted this explanation, nodding and winding up to take a swing at Buggy.

“Lucky, please! I know we got off on the wrong foot but-” Buggy’s pleas were interrupted by Luffy resuming the fight.

Carefully, you work on stepping out of the collapsed building, still a little baffled by that exchange. Whatever, no use in overthinking it. There are more important things at hand.

The sound of something heavy being dragged across the ground caught your attention, it was Nami toting a couple of massive bags behind her. She met your gaze and motioned you over, “Oh, good timing. Help me move these!” 

What? No please? Whatever, this is another thing not worth worrying about in the moment. You catch up with her quickly and take one of the bags. The second you do, you stumble. My god this thing is heavy! You do your best to pull it along, “What did you put in here? It weighs a ton!”

“It’s all of that clown’s treasure!” Nami answers happily, eyes sparkling. 

“Why do you need all of this? What would you even do with it?” You’re huffing from the exertion of hauling your bag.

“That’s my business, thank you very much,” she said dismissively. Well then, you guess that’s the end of that conversation. 

“Hey! I see you! How dare you steal from me!” Buggy screeched. A hand holding several throwing knives was flying right at the both of you. Nami screamed, but refused to let go of “her” treasure. Your hand hovered over the urumi, but you hesitated. You really don’t think you possess the skill to slice his hand out of the air.

Fortunately, you don’t have to try, because Luffy’s own hand rockets towards Buggy’s and snatches it out of the air before he can make contact. Your shoulder slump in relief, good thing he’s so on top of this! 

Luffy’s victory doesn't last long, another hand comes up from behind and steals his straw hat. You would think that he would just be happy that he wasn’t stabbed, but no. He looks enraged. You haven’t known him long, but the anger on his face feels wrong.

“Give that back! That’s my treasure!” His voice was so authoritative that you didn’t even question how something as simple as a hat could be considered treasure. Whatever reason he has, it must be a good one if he’s that mad about it.

Buggy begins on some tirade about the previous owner of the hat. Some dude named Shanks? Weird name. Well, to be fair, a lot of the people you’ve met have had strange names. 

You don’t get to listen in on this long, Nami taps you on the shoulder and indicates for you to follow her. You barely take a step before she tacks on, “Bring the treasure!”

After the oh so precious treasure is dragged into the nearest alley, she starts rifling through some boxes. Since she doesn’t appear to be planning on explaining herself, you pipe up, “So… Are we looking for something in particular?”

Nami doesn’t look up from her search, “We need something to stop that guy from coming after us or else I’ll never be able to leave with my treasure.” The explanation was simple and to the point. You pitch in and start looking, too. A net would probably work, but what were the odds of some nets just so happening to be here?

“This’ll work!” Nami springs up and tosses a bundle your way. You catch it, and it’s a coiled up length of rope. You nod, this is a nice alternative to your net idea. She strolls to the entrance of the alley and pokes her head out, “Next time this circus freak splits apart, you and me will tie up the pieces. Got it?”

“Got it,” you conceded. Sounds doable, especially if Luffy is keeping him busy. Sure enough, Buggy splits into a bunch of parts in hopes of confusing his opponent, but you’re not about to let him succeed.

You and Nami spring into action, grabbing airborne limbs and wrapping the ropes around them as tightly as you can. They’re wriggling wildly, and it is admittedly disturbing to be holding disembodied arms and legs, but you don’t give up. Unfortunately, both hands and feet evade you as well as Nami. You can only hope that the two of you were able to apprehend enough parts to make a difference.

Buggy attempts to put himself back together again, and the writhing piles of limbs try to fly back to him, but Nami acts swiftly and throws both into a box and seals it shut. The box rattles, but the body parts are unable to escape. The both of you smile triumphantly.

“What happened?! Where’s the rest of me?!” 

You look over to him, and immediately snort out a laugh. Which then escalates into hysteric laughing. Nami looks at you questioningly, before seeing it too and joining in with her own laughter.

Buggy the clown, the fearsome pirate that’s been talking mad shit since you met, was now nothing but a head with hands and feet. Absolutely nothing else.

Even Luffy was laughing, a pleasant sight after his previous expression. Buggy was still trying to act tough despite the situation, but Luffy was having none of that. He took a couple of steps back, then ran at the incomplete clown and kicked him. He didn’t just go sailing down the street, no, he went clear into the sky and vanished.

“Team Rocket blasting off again,” you mumbled. Then your face scrunched up. Where did that come from?

“Did you say something, Lucky?” Nami asked.

“N-No, that was nothing. I’m just glad that’s over with.”

“You and me both, I hate having to deal with pirates,” she agreed.

The sound of flip flops slapping against the ground was your only warning before being pulled into a group hug. You and Nami were squished against each other and unable to move when Luffy’s arms coiled around you both. He cheered and hopped up and down enthusiastically, “We did it, good thinking guys! We already make such a great crew!”

“I am not part of your crew,” Nami wheezed.

Luffy stopped, loosening his grip a little but not enough for either of you to escape, “Huh? But you said you’d be my navigator.”

“All that I agreed to was a temporary alliance, that’s it,” she clarified while trying desperately to get out of his clutches.

“Are you still gonna sail with us out of here?”

“Sure?”

“Okay, that’s good!” Luffy was content with the answer, however unpromising it may be.

“Where’s Zoro? I haven’t seen him in a while,” you were craning your neck around to try and spot him. Now that you thought about it, you haven’t seen him since his fight with the unicyclist. Was he okay? Did he succumb to his wounds after the fight?

Mercifully, Luffy let go and pointed to where he was, “He’s over there, he said he needed to sleep some more after fighting.”

“What, right in the street?” You asked, thinking for sure that you’re misunderstanding. Obnoxious snores cut through the now silent air, and you realize that you understood perfectly. There he is. Out cold in the middle of the street like it’s the comfiest mattress he’s ever experienced. You know what? You’re not even surprised now that you’re looking at him. This checks out for him.

“Hey, guys, I think we should leave,” Nami threw out, handing the treasure bag you had been hauling to Luffy.

“Why?”

“There’s a mob and they look mad.”

A mob?! Sure enough, rounding the corner of the almost leveled street you were on was a massive angry mob of people. They’ve got torches and pitchforks and everything. They aren’t dressed like the pirates, you think these are the missing townspeople! That’s fine then, you guys just defeated the clown that had been terrorizing them. By all accounts, they should be happy with you. Right?

“Mayor Boodle! What happened to you?!” One of them cried out and ran to him. Oh wow, you hadn’t even noticed him being there. The mayor was currently sprawled out on the street. Unlike Zoro, he did not appear to be sleeping peacefully. If the knot on his head was anything to go off of, it looks like someone knocked him the hell out.

Damage control, you need to do some damage control! And quick!

“Oh him? I punched him,” Luffy interjected, looking rather proud of himself.

“You what?!” You and the townsfolk yelled all at once. Good lord, does Luffy just enjoy concussing people?! Should you be more suspicious about what happened to you?

“Hey! That girl stole my clothes! And paired it with a hideous coat!” An absolutely furious woman in the crowd pointed at you. Oh come on! How many people are going to call you out for wearing their clothes today?!

Luffy laughed, amused and unbothered, “Let’s go!” He reached for and yanked Zoro to his side and motioned for you to support his other side, and the second you picked him up you were running.

“Don’t let them escape!”

The mob surged after you all and were hot on your heels. You’re not sure that you’ll be able to lose them at this rate. 

Luffy took a hard right, leading all four of you down an alley. In the middle of it was a dog. Wait, not just any dog, that’s Chouchou! The dog he helped. You leapt over him, and the second the crowd approached, he switched from quiet guarding to aggressive barking.

Despite their numbers, this did make the people hesitate, buying you enough time to get ahead. Luffy called out a ‘thank you’ to the dog over his shoulder, much to the bewilderment of the crowd. 

The docks were just ahead, you were almost home free!

Nami leapt into her own boat, not wasting a second, and began to set sail. Luffy all but threw you and Zoro into yours. Both of you landed with a thud and Zoro groaned, opening his eyes groggily. He looks around lazily, “Where are we?”

“Back on our boat, we got chased out by an angry mob,” you explained, gently shifting him off of you.

“Why?”

“Because Luffy attacked the mayor,” you shot the assailant in question a dry look, not that he was paying attention.

“He did that to save him, why are they mad about it?” Zoro yawned and tried to make himself more comfortable. You didn’t even know how to respond to that. How do you save someone by punching them?

“Hey, you ruffians!”

Everyone looked to shore and saw the mayor standing there. Well he sure made a quick recovery since you last saw him two minutes ago! You waited anxiously to hear what would be said next. Would he curse you all? He probably doesn’t even know how the final battle went.

“Thank you!”

He’s… thanking you guys? 

Luffy laughed boisterously and waved, “You’re welcome, old man!”

“Wait! Luffy, where is the bag you were carrying?” Nami interrupted the moment, looking around frantically. “Did you forget it?!”

“No, I left it behind for them. They need it more than I do!” Luffy smiled innocently and pointed to where it was left on the docks. The locals were already investigating the bag to see what it was.

Luffy, a pirate, abandoned treasure because he thought the people who chased him out of town needed it more? What kind of a pirate would do something like that? What kind of a person would do something like that? The answer was obvious, you suppose.

A good one.

You looked over at him again, only to see Nami actively trying to drown him. 

“Nami, no!”

—

It took some time to ease the tensions between Nami and Luffy after the whole treasure incident. Time, and Zoro keeping them separated. Fortunately, Nami did eventually relent and agreed through clenched teeth that maybe the townsfolk did need the money.

Luffy had no problems to reconcile on his side, he had somehow already forgiven the attempted murder by the time Zoro pulled him above water.

Nami had set course for some nearby islands with the goal of acquiring a better ship as per Luffy’s request, and after that it didn’t take long for night to come. Nami offered to stay awake to make sure you didn’t go somewhere you weren’t supposed to, which was nice of her.

Getting some sleep sounded nice. At least, it sounded nice in theory. The small boat that you, Luffy, and Zoro were all crammed into didn’t offer much room for stretching out or having personal space. That, and Luffy had chosen to sleep by sprawling across you and Zoro in lieu of a bed. He wasn’t particularly heavy, but he wouldn’t stop moving.

You doubt you had slept for more than a couple of hours before being awoken by Luffy biting your arm, murmuring about meat in his sleep. You awoke with a start and roughly shoved him off of you on instinct. He barely even reacted and simply latched onto Zoro in your absence. Better him than you.

Sleep was unlikely to come to you again tonight. You carefully scoot yourself away from the two, with plans of stargazing until morning. The action didn’t rouse either of them, but it got someone else’s attention.

“Who’s awake?” Nami called out.

“I am, Luffy bit me,” you answered back.

She snickered, humored by your suffering. “Come over here and keep me company,” she yawned, “I’m getting tired.”

Chatting with Nami doesn’t sound like a bad way to pass the time, so you agree and shakily get to your feet. The two boats are tied together to keep them from drifting apart, so the distance isn’t far, but the instability of being at sea made it feel much more challenging than it should be.

Rather than help you by keeping the boat steady or even just offering a hand, Nami merely watched you struggle and didn’t even attempt to hide how funny she found this. Luckily, you were able to get over onto her boat without going overboard. 

“You’ve got some great sea legs under you, huh?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

You stumbled over to where she was seated and plopped down next to her, “I hope you know that I’m staying over here now, I’m not doing that again.”

That got a chuckle out of her, “That’s fine, I told you to come keep me company anyways.” The conversation lulled and you glanced over at her. She was focused on mending Luffy’s hat, carefully stitching the holes that had been put in it during his fight with Buggy. You hadn’t even known it had gotten damaged until you saw him fiddling with it after the little disagreement with Nami. It was surprising to see her offer to repair it considering how mad she had been only minutes prior, but Luffy agreed to let her anyway. 

“So, I’ve gotta ask: How did you end up with those two?” Nami broke the silence, “You don’t really seem like the type to be a pirate.”

“That’s… It’s a funny story, I guess? A short one, too,” you started. “According to Luffy and Zoro, I fell out of the sky, almost drowned, and when Luffy was pulling me over to their boat I hit my head,” you pointed to the bandages on your head for emphasis. Nami had stopped working on the hat and was instead gawking at you.

“I woke up a little while later, and couldn’t remember a damn thing. Not how I got there, what happened, or even who I was. Luffy got the idea into his head to try and help me remember everything, so now I’m traveling with them for the time being,” you finished the explanation. The whole situation was insane, but it felt good to talk about it a little bit.

“What? When did this happen, how long have you even been with them?”

“Since yesterday. I had only woken up a couple of hours before we got to that island back there,” saying that made you realize how much had happened in such a short period of time. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.

Nami was visibly horrified by your story. She spared a glance to the other boat, then lowered her voice and spoke to you in a hushed but urgent tone, “How do you know they’re telling the truth?! For all you know, they took you hostage and are hoping to ransom you!”

This was a good point, you had considered the possibility of foul play already, but you couldn’t fully commit to the idea of it. They didn’t seem like bad people to you. Unhinged, yes, but not evil by any means. You mulled over your next words for a minute, “I’ve thought about that, but I think they’re being honest. I mean really, I don’t think Luffy can even lie.” You laughed a little upon remembering the chaos he caused by telling the townspeople about what happened with Mayor Boodle, “Besides, if they were so concerned with getting money from a ransom, why would Luffy have left behind a giant bag of gold? That seems pretty counterintuitive to me.”

Nami still looked unsure, but not as freaked out as she had been. She shot another look at the other boat, a highly suspicious one, but ultimately sighed and went back to working on the hat. “I don’t like that story at all, but I’ll let it go for now,” she muttered.

You fell into another bout of silence. There wasn’t exactly a whole lot to do out here, so you settled for watching her put the finishing touches on the hat. After the last stitch, she pulled the string taut and tied the knot. She cut it and held the straw hat up to her lantern to admire her handiwork. It looked great, she had done an excellent job repairing it. 

“I’m guessing Lucky isn’t your real name then?” Once again, she had been the one to speak first.

“It’s not. Since I couldn’t remember it, Luffy came up with the nickname. He decided that I was “lucky” because he rescued me, so that’s how he chose the name.”

Nami scoffed, “I don’t know that I would call you “lucky” for that, but whatever.” She put the hat aside, and glanced at you briefly before choosing to look up at the stars instead. Her fingers drum against the wood of the ship anxiously for a moment, “Um… If you need to get away from them just let me know. I can drop you off at another island. Those idiots can’t navigate so they definitely won’t be able to find you.”

“Thank you, but that’s okay. I think I’ll stick with them for a while yet,” you answered honestly. They were some strange people, but you couldn’t deny that you found yourself liking them already.

“Suit yourself,” she said. Her disdain for the situation was palpable, but she seemed willing to drop it for now.

The only sounds now were the waves splashing against the boats and the wood creaking with each hit. It felt so quiet, unusually so, as if you weren’t used to it. The place you were before all this must have been very noisy if this makes you feel uneasy. 

But, this was a good opportunity to think over what happened today. Well, yesterday. Falling out of the sky was weird enough, having basically nothing from before this happened was weirder, but the weirdest thing of all was the note and weapon that seemingly manifested out of nowhere.

What was that? Who left it, and how did they know about your amnesia? If they knew you, why wouldn’t they come and collect you? What is there to gain from throwing a weapon at you and leaving you be?

You have so many questions and zero answers, but there is one question that stands out against all the others.

Who is “A”?

[besttropeveershowdown]

The Best Trope Ever Showdown: FINALS

Found Family

Propaganda:

Well all know it, we all love it

the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb

Forming a bond with friends or strangers so deeply they become your family!!! Choosing the people you want to support you, to be your backbone, to care for you and be cared for by you in return!

literally the experience! characters may not come from the best past but they grow together and give each other the support that they can't get otherwise. the attachments that form are usually amazing and I guess just. yeah! + platonic/doesn't need romance involved which I guess is a plus for myself???

Because its so cute! It's sweet, and kind, and forgiving, and just asdfghjk its just the best. Without FF we wouldnt have shows like The Owl House so think about that okay?

I mean, come on. A pair or group of people that know little about or nothing about each other become fiercely protective and loving towards the others. They consider each other family through shared experiences and traumas, loving and caring for each other as if they were kin.

Battle Couple

Propaganda:

Two people fighting side by side, or back to back, trusting the other to have their back, even while bickering. Amazing. And if they kiss, surrounded by enemies… perfection ❤️❤️❤️

Reformed, but Not Tamed

They're not Evil anymore. But like, they're also not Nice really. Still a jerk about it. (No TVTropes page submitted)

Propaganda:

All the coolness of a redeemed villain but without losing the spicy villain jerk charisma they had before. Often called The Vegeta. Get to have your cake and eat it too.

who doesn't love a villain kinda sorta turning good but being annoyed about it the whole time

We all love it when the bad guy joins the Plucky Team of Heroes because it is a) hilarious or b) reaaaaally interesting character dynamics, and "reformed but not tamed" is the superior way to achieve this. You get all the fun of having the bad guy join the team WITHOUT having to sand down everything that MAKES the bad guy interesting. In this house, we like a "domestication" arc more than a "redemption" arc. He's still an awful little shithead, but now he's OUR awful little shithead.

[violetsteve]

A companion piece to the makeout fic (though both can be read as stand alones). Also posted on AO3 here!

If someone would’ve told Robin three years ago that not only would Steve “the hair” Harrington be her very best friend, but she would also go on to fight evil Russians and demonic bats with him and live to tell the tale, she would’ve laughed in their face.

Actually, she probably would have given a very obnoxious, very nervous laugh, and then ran in the opposite direction because obviously that person was either insane or under the influence of something very bad.

Still, they would have been right. Steve is her very best friend. She would move mountains for him. She would walk into the fiery depths of the upside down to pull his sorry ass out. She wouldn’t even hesitate.

But goddamn is she tired of seeing his stupid fucking turned on face.

***

Robin admits that she enjoys DnD nights more than she thought she would—which is to say she thought she wouldn’t enjoy them at all.

The truth is, though, they’re fun. It’s the one time where they can all get together and just be. They don’t all play DnD, but all of them are typically clustered in the same room, strewn over couches and scattering about the floor, all just spending time in the same space without the pressure of the impending end of the world hanging over their heads.

Plus, it’s kinda fun to watch the nerds play DnD. Eddie gets so into it, and in turn so does the rest of the table. Robin has to admit that Eddie is good at this—dragon mastering or whatever.

She’s not entirely sure what he’s making the kids battle right now—thinks maybe it’s a goblin army—but Eddie is perched with his feet on his chair, crouching down and making slight growling noises as his goblins attack the kids. He’s got his fingers curled into claws and when he speaks he sounds ridiculous. It’s embarrassing, is what it is. His voice is somehow growly and squeaky, high pitched as he bares his teeth at the group clustered around the table.

Eddie looks so much like a gremlin in this moment that it makes Robin cackle. Eddie is being an absolute weirdo, and she turns to share in her delight with Steve, only—

Jesus fuck does she regret looking over at him. Steve is very obviously paying attention to Eddie’s actions right now, just like Robin had been, but there’s a very definite difference to the kind of attention Steve is paying.

Steve’s eyes are already hooded and slightly unfocused when Robin looks over, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his index and middle finger tap a staccato rhythm against his thigh and—

“Steve, gross,” Robin whispers harshly, her whole body recoiling.

Steve’s gaze cuts to hers, a slight look of confusion clouding his face.

“What?” He whispers back, but Robin can tell he’s only half in the conversation. He’s got his head turned towards her, but his gaze keeps drifting back towards Eddie—pulled almost as if by magnetic force.

Robin wants to throw herself off the nearest tall surface.

“Do not tell me you are turned on right now. If you tell me you are turned on by Eddie doing that—” Robin gestures to where Eddie is still crouching on his chair, his fingers now forming dancing hooks in the air in front of him as he speaks in that warbling, growly tone, “—I will gouge my eyes out with my own fingernails, I swear to God.”

Steve’s fingers still against his thigh, his posture going rigid. Slowly, so slowly, he brings his gaze to meet Robin’s head on. He seems to debate something with himself before he says—

“Do you want to go shopping for sunglasses before or after you’re blind?”

Robin shrieks.

Steve laughs the entire time the rest of the room tries to assure that Robin is not dying. To be fair, she’s not entirely convinced she’s not.

***

Robin and Steve are ¾ of the way through their shift at Family Video when Eddie strolls through the door, promptly making Steve forget he’s at his job—making him forget that despite what it might look like to the outside viewer, they do have things they have to get done before they can leave.

“Eddie!” Steve crows, and the smile on his face is so big that Robin forgets to be annoyed for a second. It’s just, God she’s so happy for them. They’re disgustingly cute, and she’ll never forget how supportive Steve was when she started dating his ex. He deserves just as much support in his relationstion.

Plus, she just likes seeing him happy. Though if anyone ever asks, she’ll never admit it. She’d dove into a creepy lake to pull his ass back through a hell dimension portal, but admit that she has a vested interest in his happiness? Gross, absolutely not.

Eddie makes his way to the counter where they’re processing returns, or, more accurately, where they were processing returns. Steve isn’t doing anything except staring at Eddie like he was the one who put all the stars in the sky.

She’s so going to make fun of him for it later.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter, effectively putting himself in Steve’s space.

It’s like Robin doesn’t even register. Has Robin mentioned how gross they are?

“I have something for you,” Eddie says, removing an arm from the counter to dig around in his pocket. After a moment, he makes a little victorious noise. He pulls his hand out, something grasped in his fist, and holds it out to Steve. Steve hovers his own hand under Eddie’s, palm up.

Robin watches as something small and shiny drops into Steve’s hand. It looks like gold, but Robin knows that’s ridiculous.

What she doesn’t know, however, is what it actually is. She reaches out to take it from Steve, saying, “What even is that?”

Only, her hand barely even stretches across the counter before Eddie is hissing at her. Full on teeth bared, hissing.

She lets out a startled yelp, yanking her hand back to her side as she looks up at him with wide, surprised eyes.

For a moment, everything is silent and still. Robin is just about to comment a very polite ‘what the fuck,’ when Steve blurts—

“Baby, no offense, but what the fuck?”

Eddie looks up at Steve with wide eyes of his own. “That was really weird, wasn’t it? Sorry, Robin.”

And the thing is, Robin can tell Eddie is genuinely asking. She can tell that in Eddie’s head, it isn’t even something he thinks could be weird, just something he does—instinctive. Robin, however, has literally never been hissed at like that by a human.

It’s so, so weird, and Robin turns to Steve, naively thinking that Steve is going to patiently explain it to Eddie—explain that Robin is curious by nature and they share everything and Eddie shouldn’t hiss at her. She gets one look at his face and realizes that that is very much not the case.

Steve has both lips tucked between his teeth, his mouth a firm line of consternation, and a flush in his cheeks. He’s very clearly dismayed, but Robin can’t figure out why. Is he embarrassed of Eddie? Robin immediately dismisses the thought. Steve is hard to embarrass in general, and she’s never seen him be embarrassed because of something weird Eddie has done, animal noises included. In fact, normally he’s—

“Steve,” Robin whines when she puts it together. Steve isn’t embarassed, he’s fucking horny from Eddie’s little display. Robin hates him so, so much.

“Sorry,” Steve croaks, and Christ he’s blushing. He’s refusing to meet her gaze and he’s blushing. There’s a flush making its way up Steve’s neck, slowly filling out his cheeks and Robin hates him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin mutters. “You are unbelievable.”

Robin can see Eddie’s gaze darting between the two of them in her peripheral vision, obviously trying to work out what’s happening—what silent conversation is passing between them.

Steve lets out a small squeak that might, in some languages, pass as a feeble ‘yeah,’ before he’s reaching across the counter and fisting a hand in the front of Eddie’s shirt. Eddie lets out a startled squawk as Steve starts tugging him along the outside of the counter—arm extended across it as he walks down one side and pulls Eddie down the other.

“Gonna take 15, Rob.” Steve doesn’t even look at her when he says it. He has a single minded focus on getting himself and Eddie to the break room as fast as possible.

Robin’s too busy plotting her own murder to remember that Steve already took his break. She didn’t even get to see what Eddie gave Steve. She hates everything.

***

Steve and Robin are in the middle of a conversation when the most baffling thing happens.

Well, it’s baffling to Robin. Steve doesn’t even seem phased. Or, well, he does, just in a vastly different way.

She’s in the middle of lecturing him about the proper way to flip pancakes, Steve rolling his eyes—it’s like she serves raw pancakes one time and suddenly she’s banned from the stove forever, nobody even got sick!!—as he continues to flip with a spatula.

Seriously, Robin is so sure if he just twisted his wrist in the right way it would do a sick flip in the air and land right back in the pan. What’s the point of him playing all those sports if he can’t display some basic hand eye coordination?

Anyway, her point is, she’s in the middle of lecturing Steve about the correct way to flip pancakes when Eddie walks into the kitchen, waltzes right up to Steve, and just bites him. Completely unprompted. Like his whole purpose of walking in the kitchen was to sink his teeth into Steve’s bicep.

Steve lets out a startled yelp, the spatula swinging dangerously close to Robin's face as he spins around.

Robin waits for the “what the fuck,” maybe even anger. She’d probably be mad if someone bit her. She waits, but it never comes.

Instead, she watches as Steve stares at Eddie, his face weirdly intense. Eddie states back, a wide eyed, falsely innocent look stealing over his features.

The air in the kitchen is so still for a second Robin is sure she could hear a pin drop from three rooms away, and then—

Steve reaches out, fists the hand not still gripping a spatula in the front of Eddie’s shirt, and tugs. He tugs hard enough that Eddie goes stumbling forward, catching himself on Steve’s chest and oh god his lips.

Robin is forced to witness Steve sticking his tongue in Eddie’s mouth. She has to watch with her own eyes as Steve slots his mouth over Eddie’s, apparently not wanting to waste any time before he shoves his tongue past Eddie’s lips.

Robin lets out a high pitched, disbelieving laugh. She cannot believe them. She feels like she’s going insane. Why does this keep happening to her?!

And the worst part? Robins isn't sure if she’s more upset about the burnt pancakes, or that this is the third time she’s seen Steve stick his tongue down Eddie’s throat in less than two days.

***

“I just think it’s fascinating.”

“Robin, please. Not this again.”

Robin gives Steve a mean look from her seat across the booth. Honestly, sometimes she cannot believe him.

“Steve. Steven. Listen to me. I have had to witness your horny face—” Steve’s face twists up at this, a displeased turn to his lips, “—more times in the last three weeks than I have the entire time I’ve known you. Do you realize how insane that makes me feel?” Robin throws her hands out, gesturing at the general air around them because she needs Steve to see her point. She needs him to pay attention right now.

“Do you realize how insane it makes me feel to hear you talking about my horny face?”

Robin reaches across the table and flicks Steve’s nose. Steve lets out an irritated noise, but his face otherwise remains relatively level.

Robin would like to know why he’s being so stoic on the topic. She feels totally certifiable.

“Steve, I’m being serious.” She’s whining again, she knows, but she thinks maybe if she whines enough Steve will give in. He’s always been a sucker for a particularly good pouty face. “I want to talk about it. If you’re going to keep forcing me to witness it, I deserve the answers I so crave.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Nobody is forcing you to witness it, Robin.”

Robin snorts. “You literally are. Like, you’re doing it right in front of me with no warning. One second I am just standing there, minding my own business, and the next you’re giving Eddie your come hither eyes.”

Steve makes that face again—the one where his mouth twists up—and flicks a fry at her. She fumbles with it, but eventually manages to catch it and throws it in her mouth.

“Gross,” Steve says, but she can tell he’s trying to fight a smile. “Do not ever say—” Steve drops his voice a couple octaves, “—come hither to me again.”

“Okay, fine,” Robin gives easily. “But only if you give me details. Is it a honeymoon phase thing? Are you just constantly on the cusp of ripping Eddie’s clothes off all the time because it’s new and exciting?”

Steve bites his bottom lip, averting his eyes. He’s clearly embarrassed, which Robin thinks is so weird. Her and Steve have basically zero secrets. They’re worryingly codependent, and hardly ever get embarrassed around each other.

Sure, sometimes Steve annoys the shit out of her, but she also went to him for sex tips. Eddie makes jokes about them being the twins from The Shining and they both laugh because it’s not exactly false.

So, it’s a little startling to see Steve acting so timid, so demure, but she’s pretty sure she knows why. She has a theory.

“It’s a weird thing, isn’t it?” She asks before Steve can try and change the topic like he so clearly is gearing up to do. He doesn’t say anything in response, but that’s okay. Robin has always been able to talk enough for the both of them.

“It’s like…Eddie does something weird and you like it, right?” Steve’s cheeks are growing redder by the second, and Robin’s first instinct is to crow in victory—she’s absolutely nailed it—but she holds back. “I think I’ve figured that bit out, but what I can’t figure out is why that embarasses you, why you’re ashamed of being into Eddie’s quirks.”

Steve huffs. “That’s not it,” he says, running a hand through his hair, messing up the artful swoop he had it in that morning. “I’m not, like, embarrassed by being into Eddie or the weird things he does. I actually really like them, as you’ve been so obvious about pointing out. I just…” Steve trails off, looks away from Robin.

He’s thinking, clearly weighing something is his mind. The more he ponders it, the more Robin can see him working himself into something truly upset.

“I like them because it’s Eddie, I think. He’s always so unapologetically himself, and that makes me—” Steve cuts himself off, seems to cut that whole train of thought off as he plants his elbows on the table and buries his face in his hands.

Steve mumbles something into his hands, his shoulders a tense line of misery. Robin almost feels bad about forcing him to talk about this. Almost.

“Steve, babe, I have no idea what you just said.”

Steve lifts his head, his miserable eyes meeting Robins. “Do you remember about five weeks ago at Family video, how you accused me of being past crush territory? Verging on love?”

Robin nods. She does remember. She had been mostly joking, but she has a feeling that maybe she wasn’t entirely off the mark, even back then.

“Well, you weren’t exactly wrong. Rob, I am. I’m so in love with him I don’t know what to do with it. I think I fully accepted it that night I kissed him, and it’s been scaring me ever since.

“God, Robin. I’m terrified. I’m constantly on the verge of telling him I’m in love with him. Every time he does something that’s just so unapologetically Eddie I want to fucking scream ‘I’m so in love with you it makes me act stupid.’” Steve buries his face in his hands again after his little rant.

“So, just curious…what’s stopping you?”

Steve’s head shoots back up and he gives her an incredulous look. “Robin, we’ve been dating for three weeks. Don’t you think its a bit fucking soon?”

Robin contemplates this. It is fast, but honestly she’s seen the two of them together. It’s disgustingly domestic already. Plus, she doesn’t think Eddie is the type of person to reject Steve’s feelings even if he isn’t quite there himself yet.

Robin tells Steve as much.

“Robin, I need you to understand that I love Eddie when I say these next words, okay?” Steve waits until she nods before he continues. “Eddie is a runner.”

Robin goes to cut him off because yes, he was, but he’s not anymore—he’s gotten so much better about it—but Steve holds a hand up to halt her interruption.

“He is. He’s gotten better about it, absolutely, I won’t deny that.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, his expression contorting with a pain that Robin is sure is entirely emotional. “But his flight or fight response still tends to tick more towards the flight, and if I tell him I love him after three weeks, I—” Steve cuts off, runs a hand through his hair again.

Robin isn’t sure she’s ever seen him this distressed, not even at the end of the world. Steve’s always been eerily level headed in bad situations—at least in the time she’s known him—so this is a bit startling for Robin.

“Robin, he’s terrified of getting too attached and I’m desperate for love. It’s a deadly combination.” Steve closes his eyes for a moment, pausing. Robin doesn't interrupt—she can tell he’s building to something.

“Did you know he’s run away from home three times? Like,” Steve waves a hand around, “before all the upside down stuff.”

Robin shakes her head no. She’d had no clue.

“Twice, when he was still living with his dad. Once with Wayne. Do you know Wayne knows he likes boys? Knows he’s currently dating a boy?”

Robin shakes her head no again, but Steve is jumping topics so fast it’s making her head spin. It feels like he keeps opening loops and forgetting to close them. She has no idea how one question relates to another.

“Well, he does. Wayne just accepted that. Just accepted Eddie completely, without hesitation.” Steve rubs a hand over his mouth. Robin can tell he’s shaking his leg under the table in a very un-Steve like way—the whole table is shaking with it. “Robin. Wayne accepted Eddie completely. He-he loved every part of him, and he still ran away from him. He ran away because it doesn’t hurt as much when you’re the one leaving instead of being the one left behind and he’s been left behind so many times.”

And oh, okay. Robin gets it now. Steve is slowly closing the loops, allowing her to realize what’s happening in his head.

“Robin he makes me so fucking happy. He makes me feel like I have a-a shot at a good fucking life, no matter how plain it turns out to be. I’m terrified I’m going to push and push, a-and take and take and he’s going to realize that he’s in way over his head with me and that I’m too much and then it’s—” Steve cuts himself off again with a sound achingly similar to a dry sob. Robin regrets cornering him in a crowded diner.

She's not a particularly touchy feely person, never has been, but sometimes she knows that’s what Steve needs. She knows that she would take on the world for him, so a little physical affection has never been difficult for her when it comes to comforting him, and she wants nothing more than to wrap Steve up in her arms right now, provide any comfort she can because she knows that, ultimately, what Steve is saying is true.

Steve has never been blind to his own flaws. In fact, he’s always been acutely aware of them. She thinks that’s why it was so easy for him to grow, to learn once he distanced himself from the expectations of his father and his shitty highschool friends. He’s always known where his weak points are, and they both know he used them as daggers in highschool. Used them to twist himself up into something he wasn’t in order to hide them. He’s different now, wears his flaws as a badge of honor instead of a reason to cause harm, but they both know he’s still startlingly aware of them. They’re both aware they twist Steve up inside, cutting him like the barbed words he used to use.

Steve is desperate for love. It’s in the way that Steve blooms under compliments, it’s in the way he’s always trying. Over and over. Even when they all dog him for messing up, for saying something stupid, he still tries.

It was in the way he tried so hard to encourage Robin to pursue Vickie, even if that ended in heartbreak. It’s in the way he supports Robin dating his ex. It’s in the way he leans into every casual touch, in the way he seeks out constant company.

And it’s in the way he is with Eddie, now. Once she’s removed the layer of fond disgust, she can see what’s been there the whole time.

Steve loves Eddie. He loves him with a desperation that’s bordering on obsessive because that’s just the way Steve loves. Nobody ever taught him moderation—nobody took the time to tell Steve that loving someone with your entire heart and more is just a direct pipeline to getting your heart broken.

Robin knows that Steve has only loved one other person like this, and that the end of that relationship rocked his very foundation.

Steve confessed to her, once and only once, that losing Nancy had quietly devastated him. In hindsight, he realized that they both had unrealistic expectations for each other and he’d been clinging on to a fractured relationship way before they finally shook apart, but Robin will never forget the tone of Steve’s voice when he told her that Nancy Wheeler had broken his heart.

Robin’s long since talked to both Nancy and Steve about the subject—didn’t quite believe Steve when he’d said he was over her, back when Robin had been harboring her own shameful crush—and knows that Steve and Nancy had had their own discussion on the break up, that they’d made their own amends and knew the fault didn’t lie with just one party.

Still, Nancy’s voice was eerily similar to the quiet devastation of Steve’s when she admitted that Steve had told her he loved her so much he hated her. Robin would be lying if she said that didn’t break her heart.

Robin’s point is: she knows Steve is desperate for love, but she’s never seen him run from it. She knows he’s only ever been in love like this once before, knows it took him years to get over Nancy Wheeler, but it’s never stopped Steve from trying.

Robin can put a lot of the pieces together, but she just can’t figure out why Steve is hiding—why he’s holding himself back so much when he’s always loved so openly before—but maybe it’s the thought of Eddie running from that love that scares him. Sure, Nancy didn’t return the love, but she didn’t turn tail and run from the way Steve loves. She eased him out of it, and Robin can admit to herself that seeing someone actively run from the love you’re giving them is much different from them simply not returning it.

“It’s what, Steve?” She prods gently, focusing her thoughts back on the present, on Steve’s turmoil playing out in front of her.

“It’s like what do I do with myself at that point? I’m not—“ Steve bites his lips, squeezes his eyes shut for a second before blinking them back open, “I’m not good at a lot, Robbie, I know that. And one of those things is holding back. I-I don’t know how to make myself less. How to make sure Eddie doesn’t feel so suffocated by me that he runs.”

Steve’s eyes are suddenly desperate when he says, “how do I make myself less, Robin? How do I not scare Eddie off?”

Robin‘s heart breaks all over again. She reaches across the table, taking one of Steve’s clenched hands into both of her own. How does she make Steve see that Eddie won’t do that. She doesn’t know how she knows, but she just does.

“Steve, that’s not—look, you don’t have to change yourself for Eddie. I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. I’ve seen the way both of you light up when the other walks in the room. Quite frankly, it’s gross.” Robin squeezes Steve’s hand, making sure he’s looking at her when she says this next part.

“Steve Harrington, I have been forced to witness your reactions to the weird, weird things Eddie does and the way Eddie just blooms under that attention. I have watched that boy turn into a gooey mess when you show him the slightest bit of attention.

“Steve, talk to him. I can almost guarantee it’ll turn out better than you think.”

Steve’s eyes drop to their clasped hands, his shoulders still tight and impending heartbreak still clearly on his mind.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve murmurs, “I’ll think about it.”

***

It takes five days for Robin to realize that Steve took her advice and talked to Eddie. Five days spent in ignorant bliss.

Five days where she didn’t have the sight of Eddie and Steve having some very nerdy private time seared into her retinas.

Jesus Christ, was Steve wearing armor? What the fuck was that voice Eddie was using?!?

Robin hears Eddie’s dreamy ‘god I love you so much’ and Steve’s very enthusiastic response as she high tails it out of the house.

On her way down the porch, she wonders if there's such a thing as bleach for your senses. Eyes, ears, whatever. Anything to scrub her mind of what she just witnessed. Almost considers seeing if that Russian scientist is still wandering around with some kind of memory wipe serum.

She would buy the whole lot of it.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Bjorn Ironside Would Include:

As a man of action, there's no downtime when you're together. You're out raiding, fighting off rivals, and exploring the world. Dating him is never boring. You can expect a lot of excitement, whether you're in bed or in battle together. He's got plenty of stamina for both.

Dating him is a memorable experience. He is both an intense and passionate lover, yet he can also be reserved at times. He would always try his best to provide you with a sense of security and comfort. He is loyal and devoted, and he would do any and everything to protect you and make you happy. But he can also be unpredictable, and he will not hesitate to take bold actions.

Dating him is like having your very own personal hero. He'll take care of the bad guys, he'll be your knight, and he'll be your companion. He's dedicated and loyal, and he will never leave your side. Plus, with him, you never have to worry about being bored or lonely--there are so many stories he can share with you, and so much life to be lived together.

Being with him isn't easy. He has a fiery temperament and a stubborn mind. If you don't agree with him, he will make sure to let you know about it. He can be unpredictable and impulsive, but at the same time, he is very protective and passionate. He wants you to feel safe and loved, but he is not one to sugarcoat things. Sometimes, he may say things that come off as inconsiderate or insensitive, but he always speaks his mind. He is a very passionate person, and he loves with his whole heart.

Dating him means never knowing what to expect. He is constantly evolving and growing, which makes him both interesting and unpredictable. He likes to keep things spontaneous and exciting, so if you're looking for something more stable and predictable, he may not be the right person for you. With him, you will always be on your toes, and I hope you are ready for that.

He loves physical affection. He enjoys cuddling, kissing, and hugging. He likes to be touched and held, and he appreciates it when you are not afraid to be intimate with him. He also likes to show affection through acts of service and gift-giving. He is not someone who is very articulate with words, so he shows his love and admiration through actions.

He may not show it outwardly, but jealousy is definitely something he experiences. He is a very protective person, and he doesn't like to share the things and people he cares about with others. He does not like when you have close relationships with other people, especially those of the opposite gender. Despite these feelings, he tries to be reasonable and trust you to maintain appropriate boundaries. Still, it is not easy for him, and it can lead to conflicts at times.

He is a person who values honesty and loyalty. He is not someone who will keep secrets from you, and he expects the same in return. He wants you to share your thoughts and feelings with him, even if it may not be something that he wants to hear. He values communication and trust in a relationship, and he tries to make you feel safe and secure. He doesn't like playing games in his relationships, and he much prefers to be upfront and direct. He respects you and your decisions and always tries to make your needs and wants a priority.

He can be quite intense at times, but it's never boring. He may be a bit rough around the edges, but he's always honest and true to himself. He has a big heart and a lot of love to give, but he doesn't hold back when voicing his opinions. If you're looking for an adventure, he's your man. He's not here to play games, and he doesn't have the patience for bullshit. He's just looking for a partner who can keep up with his intensity and match his energy.

He is a very caring person, and he loves to show his affection for those he cares about. He is not a fan of mushy sweetness, but he loves to let his loved ones know that they are important to him. Although he can sometimes be tough on the outside, he is very vulnerable on the inside. He has a lot of feelings, both good and bad, and he is not afraid to express them. However, he does not open up easily, and it takes time for him to trust someone.

In addition to being a passionate and protective lover, he is also a great listener. He is always willing to hear your thoughts and feelings, even if he doesn't agree with them. He values open communication and honesty in his relationships. Although he may be impulsive at times, he always strives to make decisions together with you. He believes that trust is the foundation of any strong relationship, and he strives to create an environment of respect and mutual understanding with you.

He can be quite stubborn and strong-willed, so he could see how some might view him as "whipped" in relationships. However, he would argue that this is simply a characteristic of his passionate and determined nature. He is not afraid to take charge and make decisions, but he is also not afraid to listen to your needs and desires. Ultimately, he is not so rigid and inflexible that he cannot compromise or see things from your perspective. However, when it comes to matters of principle, he is firm and unwavering.

Dating is a matter of the heart, not the mind. To truly fall in love with him, you must experience the rush and excitement of being with one of the greatest Vikings in history. You must feel the thrill of adventure as you sail the seas in search of treasure and glory, and the warmth of the fire as he tells tales of his conquests. And you must have the courage to join him in battle and stand by his side, even in the face of certain death.

He has an interest in rough sex where he can be as dominant and assertive as he wants without any judgment or repercussions.

He has a particular interest in public play and exhibitionism, where he wants to be seen by others while having sexual relations with you.

One of his passions is exploring various forms of power play and dynamics, such as mistress/master, Dominant/submissive, and daddy/little, and seeing how you respond to these interests him.

He also enjoys engaging in light bondage and restraints, such as using leather straps or handcuffs to bind you to a chair or bed in order to have his way with you.

He especially enjoys teasing you or letting you tease him, knowing that it is both a fun game and a way to build anticipation, leading to an even more gratifying release later on.

He enjoys the feeling of power that comes from being able to make you feel good and give you the pleasure you want. And, of course, he loves seeing your reactions as he pushes you closer and closer to an amazing orgasm.

He loves to take control and tie you up, blindfold you, and tease you until you can't take it anymore. He likes to leave you on edge, building anticipation until you're finally begging for release.

He also plays with ice during sex. He loves to freeze some toys and introduce them into your playtime, letting the ice melt on your body as he brings you ever closer to the edge.

[yanderes-galore]

General hc for nameless king? thanks

Sure! This time I didn't ask for help on how to write a Dark Souls character :D

Yandere! The Nameless King Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Isolation/Implied kidnapping, Slight possessive behavior, Forced relationship implied.

From what I know about The Nameless King, he was the first heir to Gwyn.

He fought in the war against dragons with a lightning spear that could pierce the dragon's skin.

He was a skilled dragonslayer and even made armor out of dragon scales.

To humans he was known as a god of war.

He had many loyal dragonslayers who worked with him and his first knight Ornstein.

When Gwyn linked with the fire, The Nameless King took his place.

Yet he took things too far when he sacrificed everything to ally with the Ancient Dragons he fought against.

It is said he was fascinated with their strength due to being a god who only had eyes for arms.

He yearned for strength so much he managed to tame a stormdrake to aid him in battle.

This behavior had him cast out of the pantheon as the other deities in Anor Londo could not tolerate this behavior.

After his betrayal he was erased from most of history.

Since then The Nameless King resides in Archdragon Peak with his stormdrake.

It's even said he's taken part in many battles since then with his companion.

I imagine The Nameless King would take to a darling who was a knight/warrior.

The Nameless King is known as a god of war among humans, perhaps you once worshiped the god before he was cast away.

You are no doubt an undead not yet Hollowed.

That or maybe you are Unkindled. 

Either way, The Nameless King may like someone who has a fighting spirit.

Learning to fight is necessary in a world like Dark Souls.

Especially in Dark Souls 3 where the Age of Fire is quickly ending.

Those who do not fight often become Hollow.

Your determination is admirable and may catch the eye of The Nameless King.

Perhaps it's a blessing to be watched over by such a being.

Even more so if you're part of his covenant.

Maybe your fate is to meet this Nameless King at Archdragon Peak?

Perhaps you're meant to have a grand battle.

Or maybe your fate is to be his partner, the one he never bothered to have during his rule.

When you stumble upon the place he resides you are met with clouds.

Your entire journey through these lands no doubt lured you here.

For some reason… you feel you belong here.

Prepare for a fight as soon as the stormdrake lands.

The Nameless King stands in front of you on top of his stormdrake, dark eyes staring down at you.

His size towers over you.

The resulting battle is most likely The Nameless King testing your abilities. 

He no doubt was watching your journey, yet didn't want to rush anything.

As you battle he tests you for two main reasons.

The Nameless King can never turn down a challenge.

Plus… he wants to see if you're worthy of being his.

A partner in battle… yet also a union between god and human.

By the end of the honorable battle between you, The Nameless King plans to claim you.

You are a skilled warrior who fights well.

What greater honor is there other than to join him?

You may try to refuse, yet wasn't this your fate?

The Nameless King doesn't understand if you try to turn him down.

You deserve this place.

You've fought well, shouldn't you be rewarded?

It doesn't matter if you are willing or not.

The Nameless King locks you in with him as his fierce warrior and human partner.

He holds you close and treasures you.

He may be a fallen king and no longer a known god… but he is still as strong as he always is.

He declares you his warrior… even if you hate it.

That feeling of belonging here was fate calling to you, can't you see?

This is where you shall reside and rest…

You belong right by his side.

[ganondoodle]

need help for rewrite

so ... im still stuck trying to decide who fits what sage role best, mainly its a tie between purah and monk miz kyoshia for the role of spirit sage, current plan is that the spirit temple is located beneath the forgotten plateau and is accessed via shrine of life/the DLC dungeon from kyoshia but its broken and leads into the temple

purah pro

female character in a mostly male cast in the sages roles

tech enthusiast = tie in with mineru

kinda hinted at in the game to be a sage but then isnt (imo)

possible tie in with josha so she actually gets something to do

possibly fun companion for a dungeon

con

already gives link his shiekah prosthetic arm and its abilities + upgrades

doesnt seem that spiritual all things considered

what would her ability be?/would a guardian laser fit her??

doesnt seem to have any magical capability without her tech (then again does mineru?)

monk kyoshia pro

hes cool :)

very spiritual

would be a very unexpected choice

located right where the temple starts

can do a guardian laser just like that

having a floaty mummy monk in the sage meeting would be kinda funny

possibly having funny interactions with koga as he/the yiga seem to take after the original shiekah alot before they were split (plus my HC of koga having been a monk from the same time as well ... should they know each other ..??)

con

he was a DLC character

another male character, making zelda and riju be the only sages

duplicated moveset with koga, what would be the most logical ability to gain from him and in turn whats more iconic for koga? (as in AoC tho non canon koga does a laser thingy too, would be neat to pick that up here, then again kyoshia and koga both teleport like nobodies business)

lore clash bc he should know too much, he could tell everyone whats going on robbing away alot of the mystery (and if not mentioned, is there a good excuse?) plus would render alot of the research into new tech useless bc he might know all of that .. unless being monk doesnt mean also knowing the tech ..

possibly less fun companion for a dungeon

additionally, zelda mainly being the sage of light (perhaps the time thing being just an inate thing the shiekah arm can do bc its a more developed version of the stasis rune) could also mean she could do a laser attack as we see rauru do, then again the moldora attack is not part of the rewrite so if ever used by rauru its when he and ganondorf fight one on one in one of the new memories which brings up the problem of what would be the most logical ability to gain from either, is the teleport the yiga do not a little .. to little impactful for someone like koga? also kyoshia can do the same, again a moveset overlap and .. if it was purah instead, what is her ability (same problem with paya, she doesnt have any ability either .. tho i could imagine giving you a shield like sidon does in canon and change sidon ability to be something healing related bc of mipha?)

if i took kyoshias ability to make clones of himself as an ability (since you dont have the sages running around you in the rewrite) as a distraction tech and battle support, would it fit koga more to have a laser attack or the teleport? i kinda like the idea of giving zelda the laser attack bc she rarely gets an overly offensive role

more thoughts, if it was kyoshia, couldnt he just waltz around with you all the time bc he doesnt have any leadership roles he needs to furfill? or perhaps he cant leave the area of the shrine of life, hes a mummy after all, would that be a good excuse? (thought about impa too bc it would be cool to have an old character kicking ass in the main team, but after giving her role to paya she doesnt have any reason why she wouldnt be able to tag along everywhere too)

[operationslipperypuppet]

a second alternate ending to this, which can coexist with this, but i wanted to be separate:

it’s a familiar comfort, every time moonshine asks cobb to braid her hair after the war with thiala and the chosen ends. it’s not something she does frequently, but it steadies her in a way nothing else will in the aftermath.

when cobb agrees to travel to the astral with the boobs, it’s easy. for one, they’re more used to fighting as a unit of four than as a unit of three. plus, it’s one of the only ways jolene is okay with them leaving the crick at all. and, of course, if there’s one thing cobb is willing to prioritize over anything else, it’s the safety of those three.

any time they were going to face down an actual god, and not just defend one hoping no one powerful would show up, cobb would braid moonshine’s hair.

this turned out, of course, to be for the best.

because when cobb sacrificed himself to gruumsh’s forces, allowed them to see him instead of one of his companions, her hair had been braided by him ahead of time.

it was something she could cling to, in the days immediately following his loss, when she felt that nothing could possibly console her and the two people she wanted to speak with most about it were dead or had gone back to the crick.

and she clung to it as long as she could. she couldn’t quite bring herself to take the braid out herself, paw paw was the one who had to do it. at that point, three entire weeks after the battle had ended, it was more of a twist than a braid, but it needed to be detangled all the same.

once paw paw had fully taken it out, he curled up on her chest, comforting her as she sobbed for hours.

she was, of course, worried that when she woke up the next day that every part of her cobb had contributed to would be gone.

but slowly, over time, she realized there was more to it than that.

he had been the one to suggest to her the best possible ways to sneak around, ways the boots of elven kind could not possibly guide her to. he had been the one, not meemaw, to show her how exactly to use her spores effectively when fighting someone off, and how her fungal form should always be something she enjoyed, not feared, as she had the first time she realized it was something she could do.

and, of course, his presence had been the thing that showed her hardwon and beverly could use more support in combat with weapons, not just through spells. his fierce defense of the crick had helped to show her that she could use her anger to help her, instead of letting it simply be something that boiled over.

moonshine had been nothing to be worried about. cobb was all around her.

that’s all that mattered.

and it almost made things okay.

[rui-drawsbox]

Okay obligatory DnD person as per the Dungon Meshi post(dnd/fantasy au + our life is amazing and I love it) but also I just wanted to say that there is a subclass of elves in dnd called aquatic elves that are kind of a happy mix between a mermaid and a, well, normal elf. I stick more towards spooky rather than nautical campaigns myself, so I’m not too familiar, but if I remember correctly they’re amphibious but with two legs rather than full mermaid.

Also obviously please ignore if you have different ideas but based off of what people have written about battle roles I could absolutely see some subclasses for the four!

Derek I could absolutely see as a Paladin(subclass possibly being oath of devotion or glory) basically the more defensive tank guys bound by an oath they make to themselves or someone important to them, which gives them a little spellcasting as well as actual auras that buff their allies later on.

Baxter I could see being a Bard (College of Swords), or what I kind of think of as a sort of battledancer. It would be a little less of a full spellcaster, but you can do special flourishes when fighting with a rapier which I always imagine as pseudo-dancing, plus he’d still get all the flashy bard spells. And to top it off, Bards actually use their charm(charisma stat) to cast spells which just screams Baxter to me.

Cove is a little harder but if you were going with him having a fish/animal companion while still being a melee fighter a Ranger(Beastmaster or Swarmkeeper) would be a good fit IMO, obviously with the Cove Creater he’s harder to pin than Baxter or Derek, but Ranger is pretty flexible. You basically get to choose a companion that’s from the land, air, or sea; and they can help you out in battle and follow you around, or as Swarmkeeper he could have his swarm be a school of fish.

Ruri is obviously a bit harder because you know your OC best, but if you really wanted to lean into more into the familiar/animal buddy route. Druid(circle of the shepherd) is always a fun choice! It’s kind of like the more spellcaster version of rangers’ Swarmkeeper where you can summon a lot of critters while still having some super strong elemental spells.

But anyway! I hope this wasn’t too long, I saw some (kinda) DnD our life content and I couldn’t resist! But thank you again for the adorable art of the main boys(and your lovely OC!) in a fantasy setting!

Second ask from dnd anon:

Oh! DnD anon part two!

But basically the theoretical party composition would look like:

Derek = Tank/Damage

Cove = Weapon Damage/Companion(s)

Baxter = Spells/Weapon Damage

and Ruri = Healing/Spells.

Also one last note about Druid is while druids have a lot of elemental spells (create water, spike growth, etc.), they also have the ability to do something called wildshape, where they can shapeshift into an animal for either out of battle(wildshape into a mouse to get under the crack in a door, then returning to normal and unlocking it) or battle (at later levels imagine fighting a spellcasting bear or even dragon) but also has more silly implications like wild shaping into a songbird to sing with Baxter, or a cat or sloth to ride on Cove’s shoulder.

got these asks a few days ago but i let them marinate in my brain hope you dont mind anon KJDSAUH

anyways AQUATIC ELF THATS PERFECT i tried to stick to what i knew about dumenshi rules in that post but for my first fantasy AU ideas i was going to do Cove a half mermaid (Cliff human x mermaid Kyra or elf Kyra [shes just so pretty its insane] x mermaid Cliff) that lived in a house right on the beach lmao, im happy that actually makes sense somewhere in dnd

i tried to look at the aquatic elves wiki from the forgotten realms fandom and omg so much text in the main page

also paladin Derek canon‼‼ imagine he does his oath to his brothers right after something dangerous happens to them when they were kids (im not saying his parents should die but im not saying they shouldnt--)

and bam!! tragic backstory 10x worse than his canon that is already bad enough :DD (try to make him feel less responsable now i wanna see that)

baxter turn rn. DO YOU THINK HE WOULD PLAY VIOLIN? I WANNA SEE THAT (<-this person didnt thought about drawing him with an instrument until it was time to write her thoughts) anyway it would def be a fancy instrument, daddy and mommy wanted to keep appearances i bet

one his spells makes his sword and moves shine and when hes under the sun his enemies become fucking blind

everything about him screams I HAVE MONEY but everytime people try to rob him he just rolls a nat20 in persuasion and they end up giving him money

and omg just imagine Cove's school of fish are all his pet fishes from the game JGASDFJK

im also. not discussing roles when the most i know about dnd is bg3 and i just finished 2 playthroughs. if you say ruri is a druid she's a druid, she makes super artsy flower fields and decorates every tree she sees with organical paint or smth jkfhds

Ruri's forest has a tree that connects with the ocean and they both just hangout sometimes (as if theyre not together 60% of the time already)

DRUID RURI THAT LIKES TO BRAID COVE'S HAIR WITH LITTLE POPPIES‼‼‼

MERMAID COVE THAT LETS RURI (otter form!!) RIDE HIS BACK WHILE HE SWIMS‼‼‼‼

mermaid cove humming a song and ruri falling to the river in trance/j

anyways anon i agree with everything tbh, there's so many ways to do a fantasy AU and i adore the dnd version (id kill for a dnd group or smth in my city)

i also have another fantasy au more vanilla but not-really. basically isekai baxter LMAO mostly an excuse to make ruri and baxter being domestic but before baxter developed any real domestic skill JHASFD

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Head Full of Ghosts: Chapter 3

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge, as well as the friendships and relationships she has with her companions. Plus, everyone gives shit to Gale about his cooking. Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Pining, Humor, Violence, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Developing Romance, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature (Will eventually be Explicit, just not there yet.) Current Chapter Count: 3/? Read on AO3 Current Word Count: 13,050

Author Notes: I'm finishing up the fourth chapter and realized I never uploaded this chapter to Tumblr. So here we are! Getting this fic back on track and should have the next chapter up soon.

Chapter 3: Monsters

“You know she is a hag, yes?” Lae’zel’s severe and even voice cut through the sticky swamp air like a hot knife through a wedge of Durinbold cheese. 

The bog was a foul place, both in atmosphere and in smell. The air was thick with humidity and an ever-present smell of wet rot. Trees sagged and bent at jagged angles, their tired limbs wilting in the gloom, and a thin fog seemed to permeate every corner of the swamp. A hazy light filtered through the tree canopy, casting blotchy shadows upon the muddy ground. 

The path the four companions were following sank into marsh every several yards, forcing the group to pick their way through mire and muck. The slog was slow, and there was much complaining. Especially from one particular high elf who no one had told not to wear freshly polished leather boots. 

“I am like…seventy percent sure she is a hag, yeah,” Eli answered as she carefully stepped over a rotted tree limb, half submerged in murky filth. “I mean, she’s entirely too eccentric to just be a normal human, right?” 

She looked over to Astarion for support, who was currently trying to rub some manner of sludge off his doublet.

“She certainly isn’t playing Three-Dragon Ante with a full deck, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Astarion replied coolly before throwing up his hands and huffing in irritation, the stain unyielding.

Lae’zel hummed for a moment, considering. “Gale is eccentric and a normal human, is he not?” she questioned, amber eyes fixing on their resident wizard who, at the moment, was trying to free the hem of his robe from the clawing grasp of a gnarled tree root.   

Eli sighed. “Gale has a magic bomb capable of leveling entire cities in his chest. I would not call that normal.”

“You wound me, Eli.” Gale responded in a good-natured tone as he tugged his robe free and the group began moving once more.

“You consumed an enchanted bracer yesterday at breakfast,” Eli quipped, recalling the morning fondly. Karlach had been fascinated, quickly trying to get Gale to absorb several other items from their camp hoard and asking him if he “took on their powers,” as she put it. 

Eli chuckled at the memory before concluding, “You’re as deranged as the rest of us and it’s not up for debate.”

Their little group really had become a hodgepodge of oddities over the past few days. Karlach was settling in well, because where else would she fit other than with their traveling sideshow which included a vampire who could walk in the sun, a warlock who was recently transformed into a part-devil by his patron, an amnesiac with the compulsion to murder anything that looked at her crossly, and all the rest of them. 

Eli was starting to wonder if she had a penchant for picking up emotionally constipated strays. They were all kind of outcasts in some way or another. People just trying to get along in a world that had kicked them in the teeth and tossed them out with the garbage. She still had no idea why they’d all just sort of accepted her as their group’s figurehead, but she was beginning to feel a certain affinity for their gang of misfits. They were all fighting battles both within and without, and Eli couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship with people who were struggling with their own personal demons, just as she was.

At least as the day wore on her constant headache had faded to a dull throb, rather than the brain splitting white-hot pain she’d been experiencing. Her memories were still lost, and whenever she tried to call upon them she was only met with flashes of red violence. Images of mangled bodies, ruptured limbs, stringy viscera…it all melted and jumbled together in a confusing blur of chaos. Her dreams were no better, and her nighttime raids on the camp’s supply of books and wine were no secret among the party. Both Shadowheart and Karlach had even joined her on separate occasions. Hells, she’d have a proper book club up and running soon.

“So,” Lae’zel’s stern voice brought Eli out of her musings. “You trust this hag?”

“No,” Eli nearly spat the word out in a laugh. Auntie Ethel, as she called herself, was a lot of things, and trustworthy was not one of them. Astarion’s assessment of Ethel as ‘positively demented’ was accurate, and hags were not known as an honest sort.

“Good,” said Lae’zel, slightly drawing out the word in approval. “Lest I remind you that the only way to remove a ghaik tadpole is a Zaith'isk.”

Eli could feel the gith’s eyes on her and she did her best not to bristle under what she was sure was a judgmental stare. “I am aware,” Eli said, trying to sound unfazed and relatively certain she was failing miserably.

Lae’zel continued to press. “And a Zaith'isk can only be found at a gith creche.” She laid emphasis on the last two words, as if she were pointing something obvious out to a very dimwitted child.

Eli felt the back of her neck and ears start to go warm as irritation stirred in her chest and tightened her shoulders. The throbbing headache at the back of her skull began to growl. 

“You don’t say…” Eli replied, quietly pleading to whatever deity she couldn’t remember worshipping to please just let her have the rest of the day without feeling like her brain was on fire. 

“I just did say.” Lae’zel shot back, drawing a sidelong glare from Eli.

Eli liked Lae’zel. For the most part. When she wasn’t threatening tiefling refugees or complaining about the lack of spice in Gale’s cooking. Though, to her credit, Gale’s food was kind of bland. 

The gith fighter was blunt, stubborn, opinionated, fierce and one hell of a talent when it came to steel and blade. Eli appreciated Lae’zel’s steadfast loyalty and belief in her people’s culture, and even felt a slight pang of jealousy for it. It grounded the warrior and gave her a perspective from which to view the world, something Eli did not have. Culture, family, heritage…they were the building blocks of a person. Even if a person rejected or outgrew those foundational aspects of themselves, they still provided guiderails – or at the very least an anchor for one’s identity. 

Without those things, Eli felt adrift and directionless in a vast and swirling ocean, constantly beaten upon the rocks before being dragged back down to drown.  

“Explain to me why we are seeking this hag who you do not trust and who cannot remove the tadpole,” Lae’zel said, driving at a point Eli knew was coming and one she wasn’t sure she had a decent argument against. “Instead, should we not be pursuing a more productive course of action?”

Eli sighed, rubbing at her temples as her headache began to mount. “I’m curious,” she responded rather lamely. 

“I see,” Lae’zel said with a tone that indicated the gith was wholly unimpressed by Eli’s reasoning. “So, the situation at Emerald Grove continues to escalate, goblins continue to terrorize the Sword Coast, the druid healer remains missing, and the tadpoles in our brains remain unremoved.” Eli internally cringed at the chiding way in which Lae’zel spoke. “But, let us humor your curiosity. What is the worst that could happen?”

The question hung in the air uneasily. The worst that could happen was…really fucking bad. Everyone could die. Eli and her merry band of misfits could all turn into mind flayers. The Grove could fall under the absolute rule of a tyrant and racist. And the Sword Coast could get fully and aggressively fucked. Why was this all her problem, again?

“Lae’zel, was that sarcasm I just heard?” Astarion chimed in, and Eli felt a pull of appreciation towards him. He probably hadn’t meant to run interference between Eli and her interrogator, but she was thankful for it all the same. 

Truth be told, there was a small part of her that hoped Auntie Ethel did have a solution for their tadpole troubles. While they weren’t the most honorable of sorts, hags were rather enterprising and shrewd. And given the nature of their unconventional problem, an unconventional solution would more than likely be required. Besides, if things went south, they could just kill her. That seemed to be a particular specialty of their group. 

“Sarcasm often accompanies truth,” Lae’zel said with a pointed tone. 

Astarion chuckled lightly and Eli felt something not unlike faint affection flutter in her chest. She very quickly shoved it down into the black hole within herself where all the things she didn’t want to deal with went. Nope. That wasn’t good. That was the very last thing she needed right now. 

It had been happening more and more since the night she’d made a complete fool of herself, drunkenly asking him if they were still friends. Still friends. Gods, she was such a loser, and Astarion surely thought she was a total basket case after that encounter. But, every now and then, he’d give her a smirk or say something that caused a laugh to bubble up, and then that weird and endearing feeling would creep up and holy shit was this not the time or the place! Besides, that man had more red flags than a circus, and it wasn’t like Eli was a bastion of sanity, so together they’d be about as functional as wet hot garbage. 

“How profound,” Astarion continued, oblivious to Eli’s distressing mental spiral. “This little jaunt in the swamp does seem to be a rather unhygienic deviation from more pressing concerns.” 

The appreciation she’d felt for him earlier poofed away, and Eli glared. “I will turn this whole party around if you all don’t stop your complaining!”

Astarion’s eyes lit up with delight. “Oh, please do! I worry the putrid scent of squalor and anguish is never coming out of my clothes.” He ran his hands down his doublet, trying to smooth out some wrinkles, and sighed in an overdramatic fashion.

“I, for one, am looking forward to seeing Ethel again,” Gale chimed in as they continued to trod down the muddy path. All of them would be washing muck off their clothes for days. “Fey and the like often have access to magic that even a wizard of my caliber cannot wield. This deviation - as you put it, Astarion - could prove very advantageous if we play our cards right.”

Eli resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder at Astarion, who had surely just rolled his eyes so hard he could see up into his own skull. She could practically feel the disdain radiating off of him and pointedly kept her eyes ahead, scanning the dreary bogland for any sign that they may be nearing Auntie Ethel’s dwelling.

It took Astarion all but two seconds to quip back at the wizard. “Gale, your opinion is like the filth on my boots. Unwanted and irritating,” he said with all the cheer of a muddy wet cat as he paused to kick some grime off the bottom of one of said boots.

“It is a wonder any of you have survived this long,” Lae’zel said, glowering at Astarion as he continued to preen. 

“We are a rather astonishing group, aren’t we?” Eli asked with a small smirk, glancing back at the gith.

Lae’zel just rolled her eyes.

Eli was glad for the banter, as it provided some distraction from the pulsating headache growing behind her eyes. However, as they rounded a bend in the path where the trail began to climb upwards towards the interior of the bog, snaking away from the swampy shoreline, Eli was struck with a surging agony that flashed white hot throughout her head. She doubled over, the heel of her hand pressing into the ridge of her brow as a hiss escaped from behind her clenched teeth. Her stomach churned angrily, a hunger rising from deep within that neither food nor drink would satiate. Her head felt as if it were shattering into fragments, her conscious self being pulled apart at the seams as something else tried to push its way to the surface. Something feral, and frenzied and starved.

From somewhere behind her, Eli thought she heard Gale muttering a question. She then felt a hand on her shoulder and wanted nothing more in the world than to seize it and dig her nails into the supple flesh. She wanted to smell the crisp metallic tang of blood in the air as her fingers peeled back skin as if she were pulling the rind off a particularly ripe fruit, bloody pulp exposed and raw. The thought of her fingers sliding between muscle and skin, slick with blood, feeling fibrous sinew tear away and hearing the wet squelch and pop as she degloved flesh from limb…   

Fist clenched, her nails dug into the palm of her hand as she fought to keep control. A pleasurable shiver ran down her spine as her mind entertained depraved thoughts, and for a moment she thought she may vomit where she knelt. She was not herself. Her mind was splintering with a hundred craven desires…she wanted to walk across fields of ruptured bodies and feel the viscera turn to jam between her toes. Her muscles tensed and she flinched away from the hand, standing in a near delirious state and muttering some nonsense about “needing a minute” before stumbling off into the fen. 

Eli needed to put distance between herself and her companions. At least for the moment. At least until her head cleared. She slogged through the wetland, unfocused on where she was going, until she felt a dampness seeping through her boots. She stopped and blinked, trying to wrench her consciousness back from the brink. As her sight cleared and the world around her came back into focus, Eli found herself standing ankle-deep in water near a riverbank, looking out over the vast and gloomy expanse of the Chionthar River - the opposite bank obscured by fog. 

Sloshing her way back to shore, Eli stepped back onto somewhat solid ground just as she heard a rustling in the thicket. Her eyes shot up to see Astarion picking through the snarl of brush and weeds that bordered the muddy shoreline. His expression was one of exasperated frustration, brow furrowed and mouth pulled into a grimace, as he tugged a booted foot free of the clinging bramble. 

“Gods below, this entire place needs to be tossed into Avernus,” he grumbled as he plucked a bur off his doublet and flicked it to the ground. Astarion then glanced up at her, crimson eyes guarded, although Eli thought she caught the glimmer of something else in his gaze…a flash of something softer. But it came and went like a spark catching alight then burning out just as quickly. “Are you…alright?” 

His tone was hesitant and uncertain, as if he were unused to the concept of asking after someone else. Astarion had an edge about him that never seemed to dull, as if he were always acting under the assumption that those around him would lash out at any given moment without warning. Eli wasn’t sure why, but she felt as if she recognized that particular brand of uneasiness. It was a tension that came from an impartial distrust of anyone and anything. A response to a life lived in a constant state of conflict, always ready for fight or flight. Something gnawed at the far recesses of her mind, tugging at a memory she couldn’t quite grasp. She understood that feeling, though she did not know why…

“I think I am. Now, at least," Eli said, rubbing at her eyes as her headache growled but remained tempered. Her mind seemed to be clearing and realigning itself to the present, no longer at risk of breaking and letting loose whatever atrocity lay coiled up inside herself. “You didn’t have to follow me out here. I just needed a moment to collect my thoughts.”

Astarion eyed her and raised a brow, disbelief apparent on his face. “My dear, whatever just happened in that pretty head of yours is not nearly as frivolous as you’re trying to make it seem.” 

Eli winced internally. He was right, of course, and it wasn’t as if she had been subtle when she’d walked off aimlessly into the bog after being doubled over and obviously in pain. Hell, given how she must have looked in that moment, he’d probably followed her to make sure she didn’t trod blindly into a sinkpit or end up ensnared by some flesh-eating swamp ficus.

She sighed and ran a hand absentmindedly through her silvery hair. “I just don’t want to worry people,” Eli conceded. “We have enough to deal with, without adding my violent mood swings and absconded memory to the mix.” She spread her hands out, as if the gesture could represent the absolute shitstorm they dealt with on a daily basis.

Astarion considered her for a moment, expression thoughtful and impassive, before he shook his head with a small smile. “I believe you were the one who pointed out earlier that everyone in our weird little group is ‘deranged,’ as you put it.” He emphasized her choice of wording with a gesture of his hands, pantomiming plucking the word out of thin air.

The action brought a soft smile to her lips. She enjoyed Astarion’s embellishments and dramatics. The elf had a flare for the extravagant that she found both endearingly silly and strangely alluring…

Nope. No. Stop it. She shoved that twinge of attraction back down into the deep dark hole within and refocused herself. “Yeah, well, one of us needs to at least act somewhat sensible,” Eli quipped with a smirk. “Can’t have Zevlor and his lot figuring out how truly unhinged we all are. We may not get paid,” she said the last bit with more than a little fake indignation. 

Astarion played along, pretending to be scandalized and clutching his nonexistent pearls. “Now that would be a tragedy. I have every intention of hiring a witch at the first opportunity to hex Gale’s cookpot so it will only produce boiled squid,” he said cheerily. “I’m assuming that won’t be cheap.” 

Amused with himself, Astarion tipped his chin up, smirking at Eli with all the wiliness of a fox. For her part, Eli just rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop a grin from spreading on her face as she imagined Gale, flustered and put out, ranting about the juvenile use of magic. 

A thought occurred to her, then. Something unbidden and completely inane, but one she latched onto desperately. It was a joke that had bubbled up from the deep recesses of her broken memory, and though she had no idea where she heard it or in what context, she was delighted at the prospect of finding something among the rubble of her ruined mind. It set the tiniest flicker of hope alight within her that maybe, eventually, she may be able to recover more. 

Eyes bright, and with a reserved sort of hopefulness stirring in her chest, she gave Astarion a genuinely dorky grin and blurted out with all the self-restraint of a toddler; “What do you call a magician who cooks?”

Surprise overtook the elf’s face, and he tilted his head curiously with a small laugh, thrown by the sudden and highly abrupt tangent. Before he could speak, however, a snap sounded in the brush behind the pair. Both Eli and Astarion turned to find a man, tall and well built with slicked back hair the color of burnt coffee. His mouth, framed by a neatly kept goatee, was turned down in a grimace, jaw clenched, and in his hands the man held a very large crossbow - loaded and aimed in their direction. 

“I’d think twice before you get much closer to him, miss,” the stranger warned, eyes darting from Eli to Astarion as if he expected the elf to set upon him any second. “He’s dangerous.”

Eli frowned at the stranger, fingers curling reflexively into the beginning gesture for her Eldritch Blast incantation. “And yet you’re the one with a crossbow pointed at me,” she said warily, watching the man’s fingers for any twitch or movement on the trigger. 

Next to her, she could feel Astarion stiffen defensively, but he remained quiet. Had the stranger not had a crossbow bolt aimed in her direction, Eli would have been more curious who he was and his connection to Astarion. Due to his comments, she assumed he was aware of Astarion’s vampirism, though she couldn’t be certain. Her curiosity, however, would have to simmer in the face of their current predicament. 

“Call it a precaution,” the stranger said before tipping the crossbow in the direction of Astarion. “You know what he is? Vampire spawn.” He said the last bit as if it was supposed to be some revelation, venom laced within his words. 

Eli studied the tip of the crossbow bolt, noting how the sharpened edge glimmered faintly in the hazy light. Silver? She glanced back and caught the man’s eyes with her own, a growing dislike darkening her expression. 

“Old news, my friend,” she said with more than a hint of antagonistic sarcasm. “Known that since I met him.” 

This drew a somewhat startled noise from Astarion, whose gaze she could suddenly feel turn to her. “You did?” he asked with a genuine note of surprise in his voice. 

Astarion had not admitted to being a vampire spawn until the night Eli caught him creeping in on her as she slept, hungry and poised to bite. Up until that point, though, he’d done a rather poor job of concealing his nature. What with the bite scars on his neck and his pale, almost pearlescent, complexion. The fact he could walk in sunlight was an oddity, of course, but given that she’d just flown through Avernus on a mind flayer ship after having an illithid tadpole inserted into her brain, a vampire traipsing about in the sun wasn’t even the weirdest thing she’d seen that day.   

She chanced a quick sidelong glance at Astarion and quirked an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. It was kind of the worst kept secret in Faerûn. Shadowheart and I even had a bet about who you’d try to bite first.” Eli still owed her a bottle of sweetwine, come to think of it.

She shook the thought from her head and turned her attention back to the stranger who still had his crossbow trained on them. “Mind introducing yourself before you start a fight you’ll regret?” she asked, watching his body language for any sign that he may back down now he knew Eli was fully aware of her companion’s condition.

The stranger glared at her, and Eli sighed. Another day, another fight with some ignorant douchecanoe who was wasting the last moments of their life antagonizing her. That darkness inside of her, the thing that craved slaughter and whose language was only violence, shifted restlessly like a dog in a cage, pressing at the barricades with a cruel need. She fought to push it back, but gods she could imagine her hands tearing into his gut, ripping dying organs from the yawning wound, warm and wet. The iron scent of blood in the air. The agony twisting his face as he writhed. It would be beautiful brutality. 

Her headache was mounting once again, and through the throbbing pressure she heard the man say; “You can call me monster hunter.”

He braced his crossbow, targeting Astarion, and Eli was moving faster than coherent thought. She felt a force collide with her left shoulder, nearly knocking her off balance, and then the world melted away into a manic savagery that was both achingly familiar and terrifyingly transcendent. 

Flesh would rend. Bone would snap. And her hunger would be sated. For now. 

The headache faded, and Eli was suddenly aware of a thick and deep pain radiating from her shoulder. Her mind swam dully, like a bobber struggling to stay above water as forces tried to pull it down. She felt…tired. Dazed. 

Why was she on the ground? Was that her blood spattered across her bracers? Why was Astarion yelling?

“Godsdamnit! Why would you do that!” 

Something jostled her, and the pain in her shoulder flared. She groaned and tried to turn her head towards Astarion’s voice only to find she was propped up against him. He was kneeling next to her, a hand braced against her back to keep her seated upright while his other hand pressed into her shoulder. She grimaced, trying to ignore the searing agony rocketing down her left side, but found herself unable to focus. 

She looked up into Astarion’s face, head bobbing to the side, and squinted at him. A range of emotions flitted across his face as he looked down at her. Anger, frustration, exasperation…all common day-to-day expressions for the snarky and uppity elf. But there was something else, too. Something in the clench of his jaw, the tightness of his lips and the way his sharp, clear eyes stayed fixed on her. Concern…

“Do…what?” she asked, confused. 

Eli continued to watch his face, thinking dully about when she’d ever seen him worried and coming up with nothing. Well, she wasn’t in a great state of mind at the moment and kind of just wanted to go to sleep. She was probably just forgetting…

Her mind drifted…eyes closing wearily…

Astarion shook her gingerly and she let out a noise somewhere between a hiss and a growl. “That bolt you idiotically decided to jump in front of was laced with poison! Do. Not. Fall. Asleep.” He pressed at the wound on her shoulder and her eyes wrenched back open, pain flooding her senses and slamming adrenaline into her system.

“Fucking rude!” she yelped. 

Then, the pain was fading and a slow numbness was creeping down from her shoulder. It felt cold and soothing, and she was so tempted to just relax into it and fade away. Her head dropped and came to rest against his chest, eyelids fluttering closed again. 

“I think I just like to annoy you…” she said weakly, then gave a hiccupping sort of laugh. 

Astarion was trying to jostle her out of the daze again, only this time there was no pain and she felt too content to open her eyes as her head rested against him. 

“Eli! Eli! Shit!” He sounded so far away. So far…far…away…

“What do you call a magician who cooks?” Astarion asked, a hint of panic coiling around his words. 

From somewhere very distant, Eli remembered she hadn’t finished telling him her joke. A small laugh caught in her throat as she thought about it…but she really didn’t feel like talking right now. Gods, she wanted to sleep…

Astarion was shaking her again. “What do you call a magician who cooks! Eli!”

Fucking hell, he was loud. 

Eli groaned and tried to lift her head. Too heavy… 

…she needed to finish the joke…

“A…saucerer…” she said lamely, then laughed, head still slumped against his chest. She’d have to tell Gale…

There was some muttering, then a feeling of being lifted. The ground was gone. Her arms sagged. 

“You will not die,” she heard Astarion say from miles away. “You will not die because that was just awful, and it will not be the last thing you ever say."

Eli smiled to herself. She was hilarious…

Everything went dark.

[rpgchoices]

Sometimes I really want to read a short summary of what to expect from a game with a very particular description that CATER to my OWN SPECIFIC interests, so here we go.

(click here for other videogames)

what to expect from LOREN THE AMAZON PRINCESS

This is a visual novel with rpg elements, turn based Jrpg-like combat, companions recruitment and dating sim (romance options)

The game has an uncensored version with nudity and more skin-showing armors (here how to unlock it on steam)

The DLC Castle of N'mar adds more quests and (in my opinion) a fundamental ending addition, plus three companions

You can play as Seran (male human) or Elenor (elven woman), they have different backstories and will be treated differently by Loren and other characters

There are themes of racism (elves vs humans, but also nomadic humans, orcs etc.), slavery and gender discrimination (amazons enslave men, so if you play as Seran you will get a bunch of that)

You play as the slave/servant of Loren, the amazon princess. Loren is effectively the "fantasy hero" of the story and you are her helper and bodyguard

The story is pretty simple and a bit "fable-like", there won't be too many surprises, it is a classic fantasy "hero finds magic sword, become even bigger hero and has to defeat this demon guy" except that you don't play as the hero (that is Loren)

There are only two class (thief or warrior), with the initial choices in game adding some more branching into fighting skills (ex. my character was a warrior and magic healer)

In general you will have a pretty big number of companions (11 in total with the dlc) so a big array of classes to use for fighting and you can change party (6 members more or less each fight) before each fight

The game is not voiced if not for some battle cries

The game follows a classic rpg storytelling style, you will visit places and choose dialogue options/quest options that will have different consequences

Make sure to often stop at camp and talk to all your companions to get their full dialogues and stories

Each companion has a personal quest and a bit of character development/progression

Your protagonist is a character on their own, so you cannot choose what they say, but you can now and then choose the tone (friendly / joking / forceful) of their answers.

ROMANCE: you can romance all the possible characters up till the last chapter where the game will make you choose (you'll know when it happens)

The romance progression has quite a lot of content, it follows multiple camp dialogues and extra camp scenes that can trigger randomly and if you have collected enough hearts (they can be collected through dialogue options or other choices), plus a more involved series of final scenes in the last chapter

Elenor (female character) can romance multiple female characters (Loren, Karen, Chambara) and multiple male characters (Amukiki, Rei, Mesphit)

Saren (male character) can romance multiple male characters (Amukiki, Draco, Mesphit) and multiple female characters (Loren, Chambara, Myrth)

The game also has jealousy scenes that depends on the specific multiple characters you romance (ex. I was romancing everyone I could and Chambara noticed and started listing all the names, plus she had a jealousy scene with Myrth)

In general the characters are, in my opinion, what make this game so charming. They interact a lot, comment a lot, and feel like a fantasy party

plot? Loren, princess of the Amazons, decides to leave her city to find her missing mother, and ends up being the hero of a war that requires her to lead nations once fighting with each other's. You play as a male or female character who helps and accompanies Loren. gameplay? visual novel, rpgs, jrpg-like, turn based fighting characters? The characters are definitely the best part of the game, mainly the companions (non-companions characters are not particularly important). sadness level? low or medium depending on your choices at the end

[stars-n-sweets]

i care IMMENSELY and need to know the teams the gyms the story and all of it my hands are open my listening ears are on please please please 🤲🏻

kendy, kendy, kendy!! sorry, that this took so long it has been an absolutely wildly busy/burnt out point in my life!!!

@reveluving idk if you’re a big pkmn girly, but i feel like you would love this too 👉🏾👈🏾

i actually made teams for like 8 characters for my batman fics so let me know if you want to see another one for my damian/oc wip. 🥺

for jason and my self-ship oc, bella

jason would be a dark-type gym leader by day, and definitely the leader of a violent criminal organization by night.

but what he’s doing isn’t too bad! he controls nightclubs, underground battling rings, and casinos like the ones in the game. just like in canon though, he never lets anybody harm children and he’ll hunt down any trainers in his area that are found to be abusive.

he’s tall, tough and scary but he’s sweet to his pokémon. if a kid loses to him at the gym, he won’t even take the prize money, he’ll just buy them ice cream! if teenagers or anyone older loses to his gym, he’ll just donate the prize money to local homeless shelters and places that house less fortunate children and pokémon. (not like he needs it with all of the money he makes.)

i will leave whether or not he kills people to how dark you interpret the universe to be; he would never harm a pokémon, though. anybody else remember when lance straight up murdered a team rocket member in gold/silver?

anyway this is his team!!

shiny duskull; it’s less of a pokémon he uses for battling and more just his constant companion. it’s his partner, despite being a ghost type because it’s red, masked, represents the grim reaper/death, and is a symbol of scared, crying children.

houndoom: also carries the imagery of death/hell, but it represents and his love for dogs, especially ace the bat-hound!

scrafty: it’s based on street fashion and being a delinquent, rebellious hoodlum, which fits pretty well given jason’s upbringing. duskull is his partner, but scraggy was probably the first pokémon he had.

absol: it’s a protector especially to children but is misunderstood constantly because people think it’s a bad omen of destruction, which reminds me of his reputation :(

honchcrow: it’s a mob boss, there’s not much else to say.

bisharp: wears metallic red armor and the pokédex calls it ruthless and unchanging in expression when it hunts and kills. it also usually has an army of smaller pokémon that do a lot of fighting and cutting down for it.

my oc isabella works at a bookstore, which is where her romance with jason blossoms. she’s down to earth and represents the every day people of gotham in a way that the batfamily can’t, so she would definitely be a normal type trainer; similar to how lenora in bw runs her normal-type gym out of a library in the back of a museum.

the bookstore however wouldn’t be a certified gym by the league, rather it’s more of a training space for people who want to research and practice more - she’d probably limit herself to one battle a day at the very end of her shift as a way to destress and if you win, you can get any book of your choosing for free!

jason won several times and still paid ‘as a tip’ when they first met, just so she would like him more. When she tried to return it, he only agreed to take it back if he could use it to take her on a date :(

here’s her team:

maushold: while in my actual stories, she’s comically afraid of mice, she and jason end up having a set of twins girls! plus maushold is just an inside joke with my sister who helps me develop a lot of my batman fanfiction ideas. 🥰

lopunny: because of the way it looks, people forget that lopunny can kick your ass. which is the same as isabella, who isn’t a trained fighter, but could absolutely sock you out. plus, especially with its mega evolution, lopunny takes a lot of inspiration from dancing, and isabella represents the latin side of my heritage, by being a bachatera/salsera! again, this is a love letter to my sister who’s 2nd fav is buneary!

eevee: she’s adaptable! plus, like jason, she loves puppies!

blissey: for her calming, motherly influence! (if trainers were allowed to 7 pokemon, i’d give her a kangaskhan for this too!)

cyclizar: come on. you can’t marry jason todd, without loving motorcycle rides. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

noctowl: her partner! represents her love for books and she’s a night owl, like everyone in gotham!

[smilesrobotlover]

skord skord?

Ah yes, another overhated Zelda game that is in my top three. I’ve played this game on the switch and I will say, it’s so much better than the Wii, so if you haven’t played it yet, try to play it on the switch.

Anyways this is one of the few video games that have made me cry. The story is so good and it makes me SUPER emotional. The Link is probably one of the few Links with so much personality poured into him, his relationship with Zelda is super sweet and fun, and the characters and world of skyloft is incredible. The side quests for gratitude crystals is not only wholesome but gets you closer with the residents, so it feels like an island where you grew up with these people. There’s so much to do in this game and I just… AGH I adore it to DEATH.

Groose is easily one of the best characters in Zelda with his incredible development. He’s so complex and insecure about himself and seeing him work through his issues in the game and become good friends with Link is so incredibly wholesome to me. Impa is a strict but sexy awesome character who’s entire story and character is insane to me.

And Fi… she is such an overhated character. Link in this story is super animated and full of personality meanwhile Fi is cold and distant, and these two complement each other so well. And even though she seems to lack personality, she has some moments here and there where she’s being a character, and those moments are amazing. Her saying goodbye to Link affected me more than Midna because you could just feel the bittersweetness. This character is with you through every game with the master sword. And despite not feeling emotions, Fi was happy with Link, and she truly cared about him, just like he cares about her. And I sob everytime. I love Fi she’s one of my favorite companions ever and I wish she wasn’t hated on so much because she doesn’t deserve it.

And let’s not forget Ghirahim, one of my fav characters of all time. He’s such a fascinating and well written villain who rivals Link perfectly! And most bosses in this game are relatively easy to me. But Ghirahim is one of the few bosses that is very hard. He’s not one of those villains that talk a lot of crap and then die in five seconds. He’s a challenge! You’re definitely inexperienced and he’s clearly just toying with you in the beginning! He actually works hard against you in this game instead of sitting around, and the final battle with him, he is truly giving his all, regretting not killing you in the beginning. When he said “what are you?” To Link after being defeated is INCREDIBLE. There was actually a character analysis about him and Groose so I really can’t talk about their characters without talking for five years lol. But yeah, Ghirahim is a GOOD character. And he actually succeeds in what he’s doing! He revives his master! That’s how you know that he’s a genuine threat! Gosh he’s so good

Now for the flaws, alas. The sky isn’t the best? The loftwings are underutilized (Link’s loftwing isn’t even named :/), the world is very small and limited (except for Lanayru, they put all their good ideas into there fr), and there’s a lot of fluff. Like hunting down the song of the hero is just unnecessary to me. Faron is an idiot for not trusting you despite saving her life, then Eldin is just, completely forgettable, and Lanayru is fine. I just don’t like the song of the hero part that much. But of course when you unlock it, that cut scene is incredible.

Another thing is Demise. He sucks. He’s such a boring character to me and he’s way too easy as a final boss fight. Like you see Ghirahim giving his all and then demise just dies immediately 💀💀 but the final boss is the most cinematic boss fight ever so that def is a plus. And I also don’t like the introduction of Hylia. She makes the lore so much more boring and confusing and I wish she didn’t exist. Same thing with demise. Having them there was… a choice that was made and doesn’t answer any questions about Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf. Heck, Ganondorf really shouldn’t be included with them. Sure he’s a reoccurring villain, but he’s the same guy everytime, he’s never reincarnated like Link and Zelda. Unless you want to count that as Ganon but I don’t like that whole idea. Idk, it complicates the lore a bit and I can understand why people didn’t like that.

But otherwise a fantastic game that impacted me SO much.

[marciiarts]

Since Lorwolf has been out for a couple months now have a Lorwolf Guide/Review as a seasoned Flight Rising player

Breeding mechanics:

- Seems to be very similar to FR. Wolves have different genes like accents and under coats that can be passed down to offspring via a rarity system.

- You can preview possible offspring when choosing which wolves to pair.

- There are 6 different breeds with different rarities including a Kickstarter breed. They look like various types of canines plus a bat-wolf hybrid breed called Volmyr that I am personally a big fan of.

- Eye color is another color value just like fur color. You can breed for specific eye colors and if you don't like an eye color you can buy an eye color scatter for just scattering eye color!

- Scrying dream wolves is possible using the Demo feature and fantastic.net also has a Lorwolf color predictor.

- Wolves have a breeding period of 3 days then you send the pregnant wolf to your nest to give birth in another 24 hours. Meaning you don't have to check in everyday to nest your pair. Breeding cool down varies by species.

- An interesting feature that Lorwolf has is studding out male wolves. It uses the same mechanics of selling wolves on the flea market to other users, but instead purchased wolves are used for breeding and are always in the possession of the wolf's owner. So you can breed with other users and still keep your wolf, though the offspring will belong to whomever purchased the wolf stud service.

Exploring

- This is like FR coliseum. But the battles are auto-fought. No way to manually fight. Also levels your wolf.

- Only way, other than player trading, to get Wild Wolves (WW) which are similar to FR eggs, except they are fully grown and you can see their colors right away.

- Even if you come across a WW encounter, it is very unlikely they will want to join your pack. But even if they don't they will drop a token. 50 tokens can be used to make one WW.

- Trading 50 tokens is similar to trading eggs in that the colors have yet to be generated.

- Also includes a story mode!

Activities

- I don't find any of the activities to be the most enjoyable but they aren't annoying to do daily either and can be completed in a minute or less. All unlock more features as you gain experience for doing the activity. And most require an assigned wolf and an energy cost from that wolf.

- As of now, there are 6 different ones but the devs plan on adding more. They are:

- Fishing: a tap/click game with a minute timer. Rewards fish, and occasionally other materials.

- Crafting: sole method of getting apparel currently, aside from buying from other players.

- Mining: my current favorite. Involves clicking on a place to mine, waiting for your wolf to mine, then clicking your furnace to melt the ores and getting back a bar for every 5 one kind of ore you found.

- Cooking: you learn recipes by trying things to see if they are cook-able. Some items can only be cooked in combo with others. There are guides on what items can be cooked in what combos.

- Farming: you buy seeds, collect water and compost, then wait the time it takes for those crops to grow, then harvest. You don't need to do anything once they have started growing but adding more water and compost when the bar starts to get empty will yield more crops based on the amount you were able to add.

- Hunting: this is basically sending your wolf out on a hunt that will complete in a set time and then getting a mix of material and other rewards when the timer completes. There are more requirements then just energy cost the higher the hunt level is, but also better rewards.

- Also while not an "Activity" there is also a weekly pageant that lets you enter one wolf per week then the day after you enter a wolf, you can vote on a wolf once per day. Winners get currency and a medal apparel based on what rank you won, 1st, 2nd or 3rd.

Companions

- Similar to FR familiars. One companion per wolf and they can be leveled up.

- Different in that if you have multiple of one companion, you can have multiple wolves with the same companion.

- They can also be leveled faster since you can bond with them on a timer basis depending on their rarity with the lowest being every hour. And they can be leveled by exploring with them like a wolf would gain levels.

Tabs and slots

- Start off with 1 tab and 20 slots then you can purchase more tabs, each tab starting at 20 slots, using the premium currency similar to FR gems.

- On each tab, you can purchase more slots for an increasing amount of regular currency.

Apparel

- Official apparel is limited and mainly gained by crafting and trading with other players.

- But there is a lot of customization in player made custom apparel. Unlike FR, this is not limited by the line work, meaning custom apparel can be a hat or a dog or a background that is not part of the wolf itself.

Final thoughts

- Wolves do not go hungry over time! Hunger bar is really an energy bar that is replenished with time or instantly with food, and used when performing actions like exploring and activities.

- Naming does not cost anything no matter how many times you rename. Happy no stress naming!

- Studding your wolves out is a very interesting feature that allows you to breed with other players while keeping your wolves.

- Nice to not have to check in everyday to progress getting offspring from a pair.

- Biggest issue is that content a bit limited since it is so new. Not many breeds, genes, apparel, or activities. And forums are not as active as FR forums.

- Devs are pretty good about communicating updates and plans for the future. They also have occasional polls to vote on the next thing they'll work on adding to Lorwolf.

- Also, my Lorwolf user is Vamp, friend me! Plus a referral link to get 100 x moonwater (a type of food) and a dog companion (once your total companion level hits 50) if you are interested in joining Lorwolf: https://www.lorwolf.com/Refer/6048

[heliads]

To Be You

Eowyn knows the bitter resentment of being left behind when the forced of Rohan ride off to fight in battle. She is less familiar with what to do when a newcomer, Y/N L/N is allowed to fight, or how Eowyn should feel about her.

masterlist

Eowyn is not happy about being left behind.

She rarely is; too many hunting trips have been conducted by her brother without her riding beside them, and a great number of attacks against orcs or other monstrous beings have been led by her uncle and accompanied by every capable fighter save Eowyn herself. She is not unused to being alone, minding the house while everyone is away, but it does not mean that she has to like it.

This time is no exception. It is one thing to be forced to forgo a hunting party or horseback patrol, but this is different, this was a battle to save her home, and she was not there to protect it. Eomer was away, but allowed to fight in a different manner, Theoden was there alongside all other soldiers and adventurers both, but Eowyn herself was not. It would be cruel, were it not for the fact that she is constantly assured these sorts of decisions are only ever made in her best interest.

Eowyn does not want her manner to be considered like this, nor her charm or emotional state or anything like that. She wants to fight, not wait under the White Mountains with the rest of the people of Edoras as her friends and family killed orcs and brutes and monsters. Has she not been trained with the sword just like any other? Is she not worthy of battle to save the land she loves?

It’s becoming ridiculous. Her entire life seems like a game played by the men around her– Eowyn may be taught the sword but never be allowed to use it, she can imagine leading her people but never wear the crown of a king. She is left spinning in circles, waiting for an enemy to attack, but always having others break their necks to save her from the possibility of peril.

She’s gone along with them now anyway, camped near Dunharrow with the rest of the fighting men. There will be a new battle to come, as there always is, and Eowyn can sense the way it will go without the gift of prophecy. She will beg to fight and be rejected, told that she will be most useful staying behind and waiting to save those who need it. No matter how willing Eowyn is to lay her life on the line, she will not be permitted to come within sight of a battleground.

To distract herself from the fury curling inside her lungs like a flame, Eowyn takes it upon herself to do what she can to protect her people. There are soldiers that will need medical attention, men who have damaged weapons and need new ones, horses who must be looked after. Dunharrow is a busy camp, and Eowyn can make it busier if need be.

She’s interrupted not long into the night by a group of warriors riding up. She recognizes the leader instantly– Aragorn, Ranger of the North, protector of the hobbits and now Rohan as well. Aragorn dismounts from his steed with the ease of years of practice, then gestures to the riders behind him after exchanging basic pleasantries and expressions of concern for injuries possibly sustained. Not that Eowyn could have been in any sort of situation to warrant an injury, of course, but the concern is kind.

“I’d like you to meet some of my traveling companions,” Aragorn tells her.

Eowyn furrows her brow. She’s met most of them already, the dwarf and the elf and the wizard, plus heard of hobbits and men that graced their journey already.

When she tells Aragorn as much, he chuckles and shakes his head. “No, no. There is one more to our numbers, a friend we happened to meet along the way. You’ll like them, I think.”

His favor is enough to guarantee a good impression on Eowyn, and she turns to greet this mysterious friend as they dismount from their horse. They must have come straight from some sort of battle, for their helmet is still on their head, and their hand has stayed on the hilt of their sword this entire time, evidence of recent use. A fighter, then. Good.

She’s about to treat this as a normal introduction, another soldier come to pledge aid to Rohan or at least not declare themselves an enemy of it. And then this rider, Aragorn’s favored warrior, takes off their helmet, and Eowyn realizes something about them that she hadn’t noticed before.

This is a woman. And– Eowyn is furious about it.

She shouldn’t be. Obviously. This is proof that she should be allowed to fight to save her people after all. If someone else can do it, so can she. Instead, Eowyn feels a ripple of unrighteous indignation bleed through her. All this time, she’s been pleading for a chance to put her sword to good use, and another girl was doing it anyway? And likely at the very same battle that her uncle and brother fought in just hours ago?

It makes Eowyn want to scream. So the problem is her, then, not just the fact that she’s a woman. The world sees no problem with allowing this woman to fight, but throws every obstacle in Eowyn’s path just because. Disregarding Aragorn’s good faith in an instant, Eowyn resolves herself to nothing but hatred and bitter jealousy. Does the woman deserve it? Likely not, but she’ll receive it anyway.

All of this passes through her head in an instant, then Eowyn swallows it down and out of sight. She musters up the strength to nod at the woman in greeting, to introduce herself by name and hear this opponent of hers in return. Y/N L/N. So that’s who Eowyn must triumph over to prove herself worthy of the battlefield.

Eowyn would like to hate Y/N quite a bit, and so she does. Y/N does make it quite difficult to hold a grudge, though. It takes every bit of Eowyn’s stubbornness to keep that spark of fury afloat. The moment she feels tempted to yield, though, Eowyn only thinks of the battles in which she could have participated, all the times Rohan needed her and she had not been allowed to aid. This is what Y/N has, what Eowyn likely never will. After such musings, the anger returns in a flash.

Y/N is good, though. Even Eowyn can admit that. She pledges her help in an instant, and with Aragorn and the rest of the Fellowship there to back her up, Theoden accepts her support with minor waffling. Eowyn watches from the corner, seething, but also notes Y/N’s easy manner of address, how she’s able to build rapport with the other soldiers in mere minutes. By the end of that night, Y/N’s managed to win over at least two thirds of the camp with pleasant conversation and descriptions of bloody exploits won in the past.

Eowyn watches her the next morning and night as well. Y/N stays with the camp even after Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas go off to the Paths of the Dead for some unknown mission. Y/N claims it’s because she was never actually a part of the Fellowship, just a passing friend who happened to run into them and pledge her aid for the land and people who needed it.

Y/N says a lot, actually. She talks about how she first received her training, her first battle, how she’s been unable to accept a ‘no’ when she hears it but puts herself out there anyway. It’s not like Eowyn is asking, or she hadn’t meant to, not at the start, but. Maybe if it works for Y/N, it’ll work for Eowyn too. That could be the only reason that Eowyn would want to listen.

Not for anything else, of course. Eowyn polishes her hatred like a blade, refines it until it’s sharp and shining. Y/N is there a lot, always helping out around the camp, and their paths frequently collide. Eowyn lets her resentment steep through her like hot tea. She can’t sleep one night and takes over a midnight watch. Y/N is there too. They stare up at the stars. Y/N says, do you hate me in this quiet voice, like she doesn’t dare ask but has to know anyway. Eowyn doesn’t answer immediately but stands and looks skyward. Y/N whispers again into the silence, would it make it easier if you did?

They don’t bring it up again. It doesn’t have to be said. Eowyn can’t explain why the syllables knotted in her throat, stopping her from confirming or denying Y/N’s query. Perhaps even Eowyn does not know the answer. Perhaps none of them do. Rohan picks up camp, moves closer to the gates of Mordor so they can aid in the end of the world. Eowyn begs to be allowed to fight, points to Y/N as a reason that she could go. She’s denied anyway. 

Y/N approaches her afterwards, tells her she’s sorry with more sincerity than Eowyn thought it possible for anyone to muster. It doesn’t hurt as much as it should. It doesn’t hurt at all. Y/N tells her that she can find a way to protect the people she cares about if she wants it enough, even if it involves breaking a rule or two. Eowyn stares at her throat, the exposed expanse of it above her armor. It would be easy to place her sword there, against the beating of Y/N’s pulse. It would not make anything better, but– it would make everything different.

They fight in Pelennor Fields. It is bloody and terrible. Eowyn knows, because she dons armor and pretends to be a man. She rides alongside Merry, and they slay many a foe. It is what she expected and utterly removed from anything she’s ever experienced before. Weapons are natural in her hand, and when she stands against the Witch-king, dark and awful being, she slays him.

It takes everything in her and then some. Eowyn knows little of what passed after that, only what was told to her afterwards. She fell on the dusty ground, sword clattering from her hand. She had done what was necessary to kill the beast, but it almost killed her, too. She was found and brought back to the Houses of Healing, where her life hovered on the threshold of passing on until Aragorn saved her.

And then, when she was well enough to sit up in bed and receive visitors, someone came to check if she’s alright. It’s not who she expected, but for some reason the sight of Y/N L/N hovering beside her door fills Eowyn with a rush of relief and she eagerly gestures for the other woman to come in.

“I was afraid you had died,” Eowyn confesses, “No one would tell me a word of what had happened to you.”

“Few knew,” Y/N admits wryly. “I was deep within the fight and took my time in stamping out the last of the enemy before I returned. I hurried here immediately when I heard of your condition, though. I feared the worst.”

Eowyn finds it within herself to smile. “I am well. Well enough to live, at least. Not to fight.”

Y/N nods, but she still seems incapable of relaxing. Her fingers fidget with the rings of her chainmail shirt, the stitching on her belt. “I was worried that I was going to lose you. There was so much I wanted to tell you. You never answered my question at the camp. I thought you were going to die without ever saying what you needed.”

It takes Eowyn a moment to place the question Y/N references, and then she recalls it at last. The nighttime watch, Y/N’s voice threading through the dark. Do you hate me?

Eowyn leans back against the multitude of pillows Eomer managed to find out of who knows where, thinking it over. She had, at first. She thought she did, at least. But then again– was that hatred, really? To look at someone and wish to be their equal? To watch their figure every time they passed before her eyes? To fear for her safety more than Eowyn feared for her own?

Then, more pressingly, Eowyn considers her feelings as of late, not just at the start. Hearing Y/N urge her to fight was the last bit of courage Eowyn needed. It made no sense why Eowyn would need her approval even more than her own, but it did a little. And, when Eowyn was dying on the ground, she thought not of her family, but her. A woman she’d just met, of crucial consequence that the idea of her would carry Eowyn off to the embrace of death.

“No,” Eowyn whispers at last, “I do not. I could not if I tried.” It would kill her, perhaps, to keep cutting off the one person she wants more than anything. Even more than a sword.

Relief colors Y/N’s face. “Good. I had thought– I had feared–” She breaks off, looking away, then:  “I love you. I do not need you to do the same, I just want to know that you do not despise the thought of me doing so.”

Eowyn’s eyes widen. To think it is one thing, but to hear it spoken aloud is something else entirely. “I love you too.”

Y/N smiles, and if Eowyn were not completely certain of the change in her feelings, she is fully convinced of it now. She had never truly understood the poets nor the performers who sang of love as if it were a tangible thing, something that would be felt from the stirrings of one’s heart until they could only be sure of their love and nothing else. She understands it completely now. What Eowyn feels for Y/N is strong and devastating and lovely all at once. It is more compelling than a lifetime of battles fought. It is all that she has ever needed, and all that she will need. It is enough. They both are.

tolkien tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @gods-fools-heroes, @crazyhearttragedy