#rqg fan fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

commander-diomika · 3 years

Text

(Click to Read From the Beginning) Part 9 Oscar Wilde/ Zolf Smith, 3200 words, Teen and Up. Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap, hand holding, Accidental Cuddling, Grief/Mourning, Trans Male Character, Alcohol, Drinking to Cope Summary: Two sets of big news and big feelings.

(Zolf and Wilde find out about half the party's return from Rome, and the letter from Sasha arrives.)

“You’re going to want this,” Wilde plonked down a glass of whiskey on the table as he sat in the chair next to Zolf’s.

Zolf looked up from the report he’d been writing. In a show of good faith, they’d been sending their information to Curie’s people. Not that they had that much to share; making any inroads on the Shoin institute was proving impossible, finding who was hexing Wilde was proving impossible, finding a way to get a team to Svalbard was proving… anyway.

Wilde looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Zolf curled his fingers around the glass and waited for whatever bomb was about to drop.

Wilde was holding a piece of paper scrawled with his own shorthand, probably a noted Sending. He held it up and half-offered it to Zolf before dropping it on the table where it immediately slipped off. He jumped up and went to pour himself a drink before picking up the paper and sitting down again.

For someone who was generally unflappable, this all looked quite flapped. Zolf picked up his own whiskey and raised an eyebrow as Wilde picked up the note, reading it over again.

“For godsake, would you spit it out?” Zolf said gruffly. Wilde’s agitation was contagious.

Wilde took a deep breath. “Hamid’s back,” he said quickly, as though racing it would make it land easier.

Wilde was right. Zolf did need the whiskey. He picked up his glass blankly, taking a huge mouthful and letting his thoughts narrow to nothing but the pleasant burn on his tongue. The emotional purgatory he’d been stuck in for the last eighteen months had almost become comforting, familiar. This threat of having to leave it, to hope again… it was too much.

“According to who?” he finally managed.

“He’s with Curie and Einstein at the moment, along with Azu.” Wilde’s voice was still quick and tight.

Zolf frowned at the notable absences. “What about the others?”

“Curie didn’t mention them. Just that the two of them returned from Rome, with the hostages.” He ran his hands through his hair, already unruly from repetition of the action.

Hope threatened to overwhelm Zolf, to come crashing like a wave through all the careful barriers he had constructed. He looked to Wilde, who was staring wide-eyed at the note, reading it over and over.

“I don’t know,” Wilde’s hand came up to cover his mouth, thumb compulsively running over his scarred cheek. “It’s been… it’s been too long.” The certainty that the others were dead had calcified over the last year, and cracking into that seemed an impossible task.

Hope was harder than grief.

He grimaced at the thought and pulled his hand away from his scar. “It’s not them,” he said firmly. “It’s not them, Zolf, it’s been too long! It’s just another fucking trap.” He picked up the note and tried to shred it with hands that shook.

Whatever wave that was about to come crashing over Zolf suddenly didn’t seem important anymore. He felt it wash through and around him as he put his glass down. He leant forward to cover one of Wilde’s hands with his own, squeezing gently until it stilled.

Wilde didn’t look at him, because if he did, if he was forced to look into Zolf's eyes, as the dwarf held Wilde’s hand in his, on top of everything else, he might expire. “It can’t be,” he whispered. “We’d be fools to believe it.”

Zolf slid out of his chair, coming down to his knees in front of the seated Wilde and slipped both of his hands under and into Wilde’s. He kept his gaze lowered, and his eyebrows twitched in surprise, as though only just realising what he’d done, where his hands had travelled of their own accord. With a curious tenderness, Zolf rubbed his thumbs over the backs of Wilde’s knuckles.

Wilde took a shaky breath, letter momentarily forgotten. Zolf only ever touched him like this when it felt like the world was falling apart.

“Aye, we’d be fools,” Zolf agreed softly. “But there’s a chance. We’ll be careful, but it’s alright to be fools for a chance.” Wilde hadn’t taken his eyes off their joined hands, resting on his thighs.

For so long they had both told each other, and themselves, it was simply nice not to be in it alone. But Wilde knew that it wouldn’t feel like this to be touched by just anyone, to have just anyone grounding him in warm palms and a gentle rub of thumbs. He knew that even Zolf felt the same horrible, dawning hope. Only Zolf really understood why Wilde was shaking and pulling his own hair at the idea that perhaps all wasn’t lost, after all.

The slide of Zolf’s thumbs was almost hypnotic, and Wilde allowed himself to drift. He let go of the news that was poised to turn their world upside down again, let his focus narrow down to the sensation. Floating up from the drift was fear, the panicked moment of looking into the eyes of someone you loved, and seeing they weren’t in there. The image of Bosie’s kind eyes shot with blue, suddenly replaced by Hamid’s, the idea of it happening again... it all slowly washed away, until there was only the feeling of Zolf’s hands beneath his. Wilde let it all disappear. It had to disappear.

He looked up. Zolf hadn’t raised his eyes, and for the briefest moment Wilde considered asking Zolf why he only touched Wilde just as he was about to break into pieces. But Wilde didn’t know if Zolf would have an answer, or if Wilde could handle the answer he might be given. What if Zolf still thought him weak, in need of bolstering when times got tough?

Wilde wouldn’t be able to cope with that, so he stayed his questions and calmed his breathing. “Alright.” Zolf let his hands still at the sound of Wilde’s clear voice. “We can give them a chance.”

Zolf looked up. “Aren’t you lookin’ forward to the chance to use that silly trapdoor, finally?”

Wilde felt a smile twitch to life on his lips. “I told you it would come in handy!” He smirked and squeezed Zolf’s hands. Zolf let go and came to stand, looking sheepish, as though only just realising what he’d done. Wilde felt the word stay rise on his lips, but didn’t let it break the surface.

“Zolf… thank you,” he said instead. That felt safer. That felt possible. He watched Zolf as he returned to his chair and gave a half shrug, brushing off the thanks.

“S’alright. I get it.” And he did. Like no one else possibly could.

Wilde ducked his head to hide the blush in his cheeks, and as he did Zolf’s comforting phrase bubbled back up in his mind. It’s alright to be fools for a chance.

***

The inn was far less quiet with the squadron of kobolds around.

After reading the letter from Sasha, Zolf had disappeared even more thoroughly than usual. When Zolf had one of his introspective spells, Wilde knew better than to chase after him. It never led anywhere good. Besides, after Wilde’s first solo quarantine, Zolf had been zealous in protecting Wilde’s privacy. It felt like an apology for the violations forced on them both. Wilde merely thought it good manners to return the favour.

This felt… different, however. At some point self-exclusion became punishment, and Wilde knew that all too well.

He found Zolf easily enough. One of his favourite haunts was a nearby cliffside clearing. It wasn’t exactly picturesque, but you could hear the ocean waves crashing down below, and on a clear day the horizon was visible through the gaps in the trees.

Wilde stuck his head into the small clearing, taking as much as he could see in the moonlight. Zolf was seated on the ground, leaning against a jagged piece of granite.

“Come ta scold me for breaking quarantine, Wilde?” Zolf said blearily. It was too dim for Wilde to be able to see the wine bottles on the ground, but he could hear them in Zolf’s voice.

“That depends. Did you see anyone on your way up here?” Wilde asked mildly, still half in the bushes.

Zolf considered the simple question at length. “No one ‘til you.”

“Then it seems the quarantine is still in effect.” Wilde finished pulling himself through from the game path. Zolf had cleared the way somewhat, but he hadn’t needed the extra head room that Wilde did; there were twigs in his hair.

Wilde came close enough to properly see Zolf’s outline in the moonlight, but not so close as to intrude. He could still turn and head straight back down the path. He waited for Zolf to tell him to do so.

Through a haze of grief and booze, Zolf considered this interloper on his self-imposed exile. The news of Sasha and Grizzop had stripped him back to raw, frayed edges, exposed parts that he had always felt would be better left unseen. And yet. This was Wilde. For some reason it didn’t feel so dangerous to let the man see him like this.

So Zolf offered Wilde his half-drunk bottle of wine. Wilde accepted with a ceremonious bow of his head, as though he were being handed a crystal piece of stemware, not a cheap bottle of grog. He leant over to ineffectually brush the scraggly grass with the other hand, as if to clean it, and sat down next to Zolf, letting their knees touch together companionably.

Wilde necked a few good mouthfuls of the wine straight from the bottle. It was… not good. One might even go so far as to say it was bad. He used to be the kind of person to get worked up about that sort of thing.

Wilde didn’t ask if Zolf wanted to talk about it. He simply handed the bottle back when he’d drunk his fill. They both looked forward, out to the gap in the trees where the ocean gently roared in the darkness. Wilde couldn’t see very much, and Zolf was several sheets to the wind, but together they managed to pass the back and forth, hands sometimes brushing.

Zolf realised as they finished off the bottle that he was glad Wilde was there. Every other time that he’d felt like this, all of his instincts screamed at him to go through it alone. This was new.

Zolf pulled another bottle from his coat. He pulled the cork, lifted it and said hoarsely. “To Sasha.” He took his swig and handed it blindly to Wilde. He wished he could think of something apt to say. He wished he could feel anything but the weight of Sasha’s heart in his hands.

Wilde took the bottle, and a deep breath. “To Sasha Racket. We were all richer for having known you, our enemies infinitely poorer.” He hesitated, then added, “And to Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam. You were a deeply caring man, who improved the lives of many in your short years.” He thought of Grizzop. He thought of the darkness behind his eyes after his collapse, and the whirlwind of recovery that the goblin doggedly pushed him through. “May your hunt in the next life be long, thrilling and bountiful.”

He took a drink.

When the second bottle was through, Wilde stood, a touch unsteadily.

“Now, I know you would be happy enough to sleep out here and awake without even a hangover,” he began, “But I am heading back inside. I would suggest you come with me, so that you don’t roll off a cliff in the middle of the night. It would be a terrible shame and for all you’re a pain in the rump, I would miss you.”

“Ye’d miss me cooking, more like.” Zolf said with a touch of a smile in his voice. “S'alright, you don’t need ta hassle me. I’ll come down.”

Wilde offered Zolf his hand. Zolf’s legs were a technological marvel, but they weren’t a flawless tool, and getting up from the ground was one action they didn’t handle well. Zolf clasped Wilde’s hand in his. Wilde braced his feet wide and pulled, leveraging just enough to compensate for the less-than-standard amount of bend in Zolf’s “knees”.

Despite their inebriated state, they’d done it a hundred times before and it went off without a hitch, though Zolf held onto Wilde’s hand a little longer than he usually would, swaying slightly. It felt steadying to hold Wilde’s hand in his as the world tilted viciously around him. For some reason, holding onto Wilde’s hand made him feel like perhaps the world wasn’t ending after all. He considered this feeling, prodding it and turning it over through the safe distance of being extremely sloshed.

Wilde considered making a snide comment, but he was having his own careful considerations of the feelings of a warm and substantial hand enveloping his. He took a rare opportunity to keep his mouth shut and simply squeezed Zolf’s hand.

They let go of each other to head down the trail single file, though Wilde kept a hand on Zolf’s shoulder; he couldn’t see properly once the trees were hiding the moon, and every second step Zolf took threatened to veer him off into the underbrush. His head was spinning like a plate on a stick. As they came out of the trees and into the inn’s yard proper, it was unclear which one of them was holding up the other.

After Wilde’s quarantine he’d kept his hands to himself for a long while. Even after calling a team meeting and divulging his past, there had still been a careful distance. As he stumbled again and Wilde’s hand steadied his elbow, Zolf was grateful that some of their ease was returning, even if they had to get wasted to return there.

Wilde walked with Zolf all the way to his room, which had a western-style bed against the wall. Zolf stumbled in and flopped down on the bed immediately; even by dwarf standards he had drunk an impressive amount.

“D’you want a hand with your legs?” Wilde asked amiably.

“Nah, s’fine. I’ll just sleep in ‘em.”

Wilde’s face scrunched, in a most unselfconscious way, as he considered that. Another complaint Zolf often had was that lengthy wear of the legs made his thighs sore, and the last thing Zolf needed right now was a physical ailment to go with his heartache. “Are you sure? Or are you just being crotchety out of habit?” Not up to his usual standard of witty repartee, but he was drunk and unfiltered.

Zolf lifted his head and glared. He was too drunk to have a good comeback. “Tha’s uncalled for,” he slurred.

“I just don’t want to have to listen to you complaining about being sore tomorrow!” Wilde pointed out, not unreasonably. Goddamnit Zolf. Just… let me help you. Let someone else be the useful one for a change.

Zolf held onto his glare a moment longer, then let his head flop back. He groaned argumentatively but waved one hand. Go on then.

Wilde nodded graciously, and yanked off the boot closest to him, then placed one knee on the bed to reach over for the other.

He wasn’t quite sure where it all went wrong. He was pulling the boot, leaning, one foot still balanced on the floor, then suddenly he wasn’t. He pitched forward, losing contact with the floor, and found himself lying diagonally across Zolf’s broad chest.

He managed to catch himself at the last second, so at the very least he hadn’t body-slammed the poor drunk dwarf, but both men made slightly winded noises of surprise.

“I- oop- I'm so sorry, I’ll just-” Oscar went to get his hands underneath him on either side of Zolf and push back, when he suddenly felt Zolf’s arms wrapping around him, folding Wilde into his chest. Another surprised and now slightly confused noise popped out of Wilde’s mouth.

Oh. It was a hug. He was being hugged. He stopped trying to press himself up and instead let his chest lie against Zolf’s, head swimming from the sudden tumble.

When was the last time he’d been properly held?

Zolf wasn’t in his right mind, and Wilde didn’t want to take advantage of that. But as he lay there, fitting strangely well on Zolf’s roomy chest, Wilde felt a tension he didn’t know he’d been holding start to melt away. He wiggled ever-so-slightly to lay his head on Zolf’s shoulder, face turned away.

Zolf’s arms settled from a squeeze to just resting across Wilde’s back, one broad hand resting between shoulder blades, the other almost reaching Wilde’s lower back. Wilde’s heart felt full in his chest, his whole body warm on wine and contact. Some part of him had wanted this, and badly. He quieted the questions in his mind, letting his confusion dissipate into the drunken haze.

“Y’alright, Wilde?” Zolf’s voice was soft. “After… the kobolds. That can’t ‘ave been a pleasant.”

Wilde sucked in a sharp breath. He had been trying not to think about the midnight ambush. He’d been reading in his office, so used to the inn being a place of safety, his office a sanctuary, that he hadn’t even heard them enter the building. (In his defense, they were very sneaky.) He’d been trying not to remember the onslaught of fear and confusion as he was overwhelmed with scaled skin, clawed hands trussing him up with cold efficiency.

The reflexive I’m fine nearly popped out his mouth, but that didn’t seem right. Not in this moment. Not drunk and comfortable with Zolf’s arms around him.

“It was horrible,” he heard himself say. “Not that I even had the chance to get a spell off, they were so fast, but gods I miss my magic.” He trailed off and rubbed his nose against the fabric covering Zolf’s shoulder. “If you hadn’t come back up when you did- I didn’t know what they were saying, what they wanted, or how long they were going to keep me- I-” He felt a waver threatening in his voice and stopped before it broke properly. The hand between his shoulder blades gripped and released, staying heavy and soothing against him. Wilde sighed his gratitude.

Time passed as Wilde breathed, letting his eyes droop and the memory dissipate. It was harder to hang onto fear from the safety of Zolf’s embrace. He lay there for long enough, listening to Zolf’s steady breathing, to think that perhaps he should say something else.

“I- thank you, Zolf.” He murmured into Zolf’s shoulder.

Zolf didn’t reply.

Wilde shifted again to look at Zolf's face, so near his own, and promptly realised that his eyes were closed, fast asleep. Wilde huffed out a small laugh. What a mess the two of them were becoming. Like something out of a romance novel.

Shaking his head at the thought, he slowly disentangled himself from the hug, and with Zolf sleeping the slumber of the drunk and emotional, Wilde picked up where he left off with leg removal. More carefully this time, he leant over and took off the other boot. He hiked up the hem of Zolf’s pants to start on the mess of pads and straps that held the prosthetics there. Wilde placed both legs on the bedside table, where they would be within easy reach in the morning, and stumbled off to find his own bed.

#zocsar #zolfwilde #rqg #rusty quill gaming #hank writes #rqg fan fic #rqg oscar wilde #zolf smith #but truly who am i to resist a trope as good as accidental cuddling

12 notes · View notes

guinevere01 · 2 years

Text

ID: A coloured, digital sketch of Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam and Vesseek. The fic title, in white cursive above and below them, reads 'Ich spreche kein Deutsch (maar praat alsjeblieft door)'. The two of them are shown from the waist up and in profile, set against a plain beige background. Grizzop is a grey goblin wearing a half-breastplate, a white shirt, and leather bracers on his forearms. He is facing right and in his right hand, he is holding Vesseek's left hand. Vesseek is a green goblin with short hair on their head and ears and wearing an orange cardigan. Vesseek is blushing at the kiss to their hand. End ID

[Podfic] Ich spreche kein Deutsch (maar praat alsjeblieft door)

Vesseek has been watching the stranger cross the square three times now. Each time, he has looked more frustrated than the time before. It’s clear to them that this stranger is on a mission. It is also clear to them that this stranger is lost. Luckily, as a friendly local, Vesseek can offer to help him find his way. And though Vesseek doesn’t speak Dutch and Grizzop doesn’t speak German, the two of them speak a language all of their own.

Written by: @franzis-frantic-thoughts and me Read by: franzis_frantic_thoughts and me Edited by: me Cover art by: @cuewulfir

Rating: Teen and up Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Relationships: Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam/Vesseek Podfic length: 01:11:48

#rqg #grizzop drik acht amsterdam #vesseek #podfic #fanfic #rusty quill gaming #rqg grizzop #rqg vesseek #my podfic #my first podfic #image described #fic #multilingual fic #fan fic #pod fic #rqg fanfic #rqg podfic #guine writes #guine records

75 notes · View notes

hyperfixationsonlybabes · 2 years

Text

!!ATTENTION ALL CRITICAL ROLE FANS AND RUSTY QUILL GAMING FANS!!

are you perhaps, a critical role fan who hopes to have a little more roleplaying in their life to better cope in-between thursdays?

are you, maybe, a rusty quill gaming podcast fan who is currently experiencing the five stages of grief after the campaign's end, and need a new hyperfixation to fill that hole?

well, i have the GREATEST podcast for you!!

CAMPAIGN: SKYJACKS!!

Campaign: Skyjacks is an actual play podcast (part of Oneshot Podcasts I'm fairly certain) set in a world full of pirates, airships, and adventure! I'm currently 26 episodes in, and having the time of my life. i am calling all YOU because this fandom is criminally small, and i would love to see more fan-talent of skyjacks! i truly believe if you enjoy critical role/rusty quill gaming (especially the latter), you will like this podcast. As far as I know, it is available where all podcasts are offered (definitely spotify and apple podcasts, at the very least). And now a quick snapshot of things we have to offer:

- a lovely cast of characters including, but not limited to: an annoying but loveable bastard man; a 7 foot tall, genderfluid being who sucks at social interaction; a 15 year old boy who tries his best; and an anxious medic who is also a necromancer!!

- PIRATES!!!

- a really cool mechanic that involves cards called "luminaries", think tarot cards

- lots and lots of nerdy references

- tender moments, hilarious moments, scary moments, and heart wrenching moments alike

if you genuinely want to ask me more about this podcast and why you should listen to it, just message me or reblog!! i want to share this with you guys <3

#campaign skyjacks #podcasts #queer podcasts #rusty quill gaming #rqg #critical role #crit role #critical role campaign 3 #critical role campaign 2 #literally on my knees #this show deserves more love #and especially more fics on ao3 #crit role fans and rqg fans need to pick up the slack!!

127 notes · View notes

queercore-curriculum · 3 years

Text

Love in a Time of Hardship: An Anthology of Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Fanfiction

Binding, cover design, and layout by me. Bound with hand-dyed variegated linen thread using a variation on a long stitch binding I designed myself. Here’s what’s inside:

At Your Convenience by @holoxam

A really lovely, intimate post-campaign fic in which Zolf and Wilde are in a QPR and don’t need to talk about it, thank you very much. I love this fic, it’s such a wonderful little slice of life and captures their dynamic so perfectly.

Would You Cast Me to the Wayside by lily_rainn

An incredibly thoughtful and humane depiction of Zolf and Wilde negotiating the beginning of their relationship. Neither of them have the vocabulary to fully understand what’s happening, but they’re trying so hard because they care so much about each other, and it’s just great.

The most dangerous thing is to love by @makesometime

An ancient Greek gods AU that’s just unbelievably good. makesometime seamlessly weaves Greek mythology into the RQG world all while not just maintaining perfect characterization, but actually elevating these characters to match the beautiful world she created.

Wake up by @makesometime

Zolf waiting for Wilde to wake up post-ep.177. This was the first RQG fic I ever read, and it’s very, very special to me. Zolf is so painfully tender and anxious, and it makes my heart ache every time.

Inevitable by Miri1984 / @icescrabblerjerky

“Post 177 Zolf and Wilde have sex and feelings,” really the most succinct way of putting it. Such an intense distillation of all my feelings about Zoscar!

What We Worship by Miri1984 / @icescrabblerjerky

AU where Wilde dies in the airship crash and doesn’t get better. Really wonderful worldbuilding for the RQG-universe afterlife, and so beautifully written and poignant.

The Right Questions by @newsbypostcard

Just two complicated and emotionally-repressed dudes negotiating their relationship after one of them rescues the other from death. Fuck, the characterization in this fic is so good. A prime example of why fic is so often better than canon.

Small Intimacies by @newsbypostcard

Zolf and Wilde go to bed and have a conversation. That’s it, that’s the fic, and it’s the single greatest “mortifying ordeal of being known” fic I have ever read. It's the kind of story I dream about finding, one that teaches me more about characters I love and illustrates exactly why they mean so much to me. A perfect fic, easily one of my favorite fics of all time.

Until We Meet Again by @queercore-curriculum

Zolf and Wilde cross paths after Zolf leaves Prague and while Wilde is still on the run from La Gourmand. Eh, I feel weird reccing my own fic, but I’m pretty proud of this one, actually.

Warm and Dry by @queercore-curriculum

Café AU where baker!Zolf teaches writer!Wilde how to bake bread. I had a lot of fun writing this, and if I can get my shit together I’ll finish writing the extended version, Coriander.

find your feet by @starstrung

Zolf and Wilde hide their relationship from Earhart aboard the Vengeance. I. LOVE. THIS. FIC. starstrung writes one of my all-time favorite Wildes, and this is an absolute delight to read. Zolf and Wilde often live in dark, angsty places, but this is just so joyful and fun and hot while still staying so true to character. I promise this fic will make your day brighter.

love is a sacrament by @starstrung

An 18-month time gap fic that’s just fucking perfect. Feat. an extra guarded Wilde (again, one of my all-time favorites) and an extra tender Zolf, and it’s so, so, so wonderful.

Woven Up by tuesdaycoming

A deep dive into Zolf’s backstory and his layers upon layers of grief. This fic just blew me away, brilliant worldbuilding and an absolute masterclass in showing-not-telling.

Absolutely Unlike Harrison Campbell by ZaliaChimera / @zalia

Zolf is bored and propositions Wilde to pass the time. This fic is very hot, but I also found it incredibly moving. ZaliaChimera takes a really unflinching look at these two very emotionally-repressed dudes that don’t particularly like one another and shows a different kind of intimacy than we often see in fic, one that’s a little rough around the edges and brutally honest.

Look, I may need to make a second Zoscar anthology, and another anthology of RQG mixed-bag ships--the RQG fandom is just so fucking talented. If you have any recs of your own, please send them my way!

More pics below the cut!

My Rusty Quill ficbinding shelf :D

364 notes · View notes

transratsactivist · 3 years

Text

i know there’s a reason why so much fan fiction about a-spec characters deals with internalised aphobia: writing can be a great outlet and a tool for working through our experiences and i like that and think there’s value in those kinds of stories.

that being said, i'm kind of tired of reading about asexual and aromantic characters that feel wrong or broken or not enough for being a-spec. i want to read about ace and aro characters that are confident in their identity and able to set boundaries with the people they're dating without feeling insecure about their worth as a person and partner.

i want to read about a-spec characters i can see myself becoming one day... something something about the loneliness of not seeing portrayals of what it’s like for someone like you to grow older and settle into their identity.

if you have any fic recs, please send them my way!

#asexual #aromanticism #tma #rqg #aspec archives week #tagging these bc i know there are lots of people creating fan works abt a-spec characters in these fandoms #feel free to reblog this post with fic recs #asexuality #m

107 notes · View notes

blueberryspyder · 1 month

Text

I need Mr. Ceiling to download the entirety of RQG into my brain because I physically cannot handle not being able to look at fan art/fan fic of these beautiful fools, I’m going fucking INSANE

#captain's log #I! Can’t! Take! This!#I haven’t even met Azu yet I wanna meet best girl so bad :(#I WANNA SEE MY DAD ZOLF AGAIN #sobs #rqg #rusty quill gaming #Mr. Ceiling if you’re there please answer my texts #idc if it gives me lasting psychic damage I can’t do this!!#jack me into the matrix!!

8 notes · View notes

eleanor-is-fine · 3 years

Note

for the fanfic ask meme:

🍰 - Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

🌝 - Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

🍰 One of my favorite comfort fics is this incredibly affectionate and terrifically sexy story about Barnes taking Carter's "restored virginity." It's tender and funny and romantic and hot, and it was a birthday present.

🌝 I haven't yet written for Cel (within the main timeline) and they are just fascinating. I'm very curious to explore the Cel/Barnes/Carter dynamic.

🧠 An idea that's not quite a WIP yet is the story of Wilde recruiting Barnes and that time for both of them as they each sever from the meritocracy and embark on new journeys as everything falls apart.

Thanks so much for asking, and for being the best duck 💖🦆

#fan fic ask #fan fic #rqg fanfic #rqg barnes #rqg carter #rqg cel #rqg wilde #love your brain

2 notes · View notes

iamalivenow · 4 years

Text

Silver and Green (1439 words) by indefensibleselfindulgence Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Oscar Wilde Characters: Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming), Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Literal Sleeping Together, Domestic Fluff, In a way Summary:

Grizzop babysits Wilde before he leaves for Rome.

#rusty quill gaming #rqg #writing #fan fic

7 notes · View notes

koscheyyy · 2 years

Note

📚hello📙friemd📒heard📔you📓were📕daydreaming📖about📗writing📘 fics📚

*Cracks knuckles* *cracks neck* *cracks spine…of this book*

Right.

Im just going to bullet point a few.

• Lonelyeyes/ TMA- Afterlife Au.

- Elias wakes up face down on a beach, soaked to the bone and coughing up bloody sand. His suit is bloody from where he was stabbed in the heart and he finds a very, very weak scar that threatens to open up again. Cold and miserable and in great pain (after a big cry and scream and sulk) gets up and begins limping along the beach. Until he finds a small, stone cottage sitting on the stone just as the sea fog rolls in with the soft rainfall on elias face- so naturally he strolls right in to find it empty. And in the Goldilocks fashion, finds the big comfy bed and falls straight to sleep. Though when he awakes, he finds himself staring at the face of his deceased husband in the doorway. So, naturally (in the famous Bouchard fashion) he reacts poorly to that and in his screaming of insults and accusations barely notices the wound over his heart open up ‘til he once again awakes on that beach, wet and cold and listen to to the crunch of peters boots upon the sand. They are stuck together in a beach purgatory where they are forced to finally talk about things and actually allowed themselves to fall in love in the ways they couldn’t in life. Also tims there for comedy relief.

• TMA- murder mystery dinner au!

- the archival crew (season1- season4), simon, Rosie and elias and peter (along with many random strangers) are invited to a spooky house under different circumstances to be locked inside with a supernatural murderer on the loose. All the guests are eventually picked off until its the institute crew (including rosie, elias and his disgruntled husband) and Simon are left. Theyre split into unhelpful pairs that must navigate through the sprawling mansion and defeat the many murderous puzzles to find eachother and the killer that invited them to dinner. Will they get out alive??????

• Lonelyeyes/ TMA- camping holiday horror!

- Peter and Elias’ marriage is on the rocks and so what does peter do to try and fix it? Why, take his husband out to a leaky cabin in the middle of the woods of course! Elias isnt a fan but the time away from endless work and the smell of sea salt is a nice change. So on their holiday they encounter the strange neighbours that inhabit the forest and notice the odd traits to the town such as lots of missing pets, screams in the night and even the water running red half the time (must be broken pipes). Elias is plagued by nightmares of his murdeous guilt as peter still tries to navigate his marriage. Until theyre invited by the locals to the celebration of the solstice under the blood red moon and meet just what creature has its sights on the quarrelling couple that could possibly quench its blood lust. (I cant take full credit for this idea because it was sparked in the Lonelyeyes Discord but i cant remember by who)

• RQG angst.

- what if the party was captured by the Hades cult when they tried to rescue their loved ones? Thats it really, Alex wishes he can torture the party like i can!

#my ramblings #ask memes #fanfiction #the magnus archives #rusty quill gaming #lonelyeyes

13 notes · View notes

aroaceingtheline · 3 years

Text

AroAceing the Line - an RQG AroAce Event

[image ID: a d20 dice in the aro colours with the ace flag in the background]

To celebrate Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, we bring you an event based around a-spec identities for the Rusty Quill Gaming Podcast! Please join us in our quest for more content and positivity around aro and ace characters/headcanons!

Prompts February 2021

22nd: Pride - Doubt - Stars - White 23rd: Coming Out - In the Closest - Erasing the Line - Black 24th: Relationship - Single - Dancing - Pale Green 25th: Awareness - Secrets - Flowers - Purple 26th: Family - Friends - Magic - Grey 27th: Love - Sex - Experimentation - Dark Green 28th: Spectrum - Dessert Toppings - Discovery - Rainbow

Please tag any work you would wish to have reblogged here as #aroaceingtheline2021 and/or @aroaceingtheline us, so we can find it!

Rules & Guidelines

There are many ways to participate in this event: creating fanworks, sharing headcanons and ideas, writing meta and analyses, and commenting on works you like! Regardless of what you’re here for, we do ask that all participants keep the following in mind:

Please tag any work you would wish to have reblogged here as #aroaceingtheline2021 and/or @aroaceingtheline us, so we can find it!

Or AO3 collection is called aroaceingtheline2021 and you can find the link as well on our Rules and Guidelines page. Please note that if you are using the app, you may need to open this in a browser instead.

There are myriad ways to experience and express aromanticism/asexuality, and all of them are welcome here. As far as this event is concerned, everyone is expected to help ensure their fellow fans feel comfortable - which means being conscientious about what we create, how we tag that content, and how we treat others. Comments suggesting that one aromantic/asexual experience or expression is better or purer than others, or otherwise attempting to police others, are not permitted.

Works can focus on asexual and/or aromantic content and anything that falls under the aspec label (demi/grey/etc.), it does not have to be solely aroace content. The characters and relationships portrayed don't have to be canonically aspec.

While works should contain aspec characters or relationships they do not have to be focused on aspec issues. The aspec aspect of the work may be anything from the focus of the work to an incidental/implied part, as long as it is featured in some form.

All types of fanwork are welcome, including every length of fic, visual art either digital or traditional, crafts, fanmixes, moodboards, poetry, prose, crocheting, baking and even meta can be included.

All works should be properly tagged. See our tag page for tag suggestions. Please tag any mature or explicit rated material accordingly as well. Not all content is for everyone. That’s okay! That’s why we ask people to tag their contributions so that people can search for what they are looking for and avoid content they are not interested in.

If you do see fanworks that you don’t like, you are expected to keep that to yourself and move on. If you have a serious concern about how something is tagged, you can bring it to the mods; otherwise, give people the benefit of the doubt that they’ve created that thing in good faith.

No harrassment or headcanon/kink/ship/character bashing or shaming in works or in comments or tags.

All headcanons / interpretations of RQG characters are welcome and encouraged.

If you are not aro and/or ace yourself you can participate in this event! We do ask that you check out some of the provided resources or look up some of your own before tackling the subject. If you have any doubts or questions please feel free to contact us!

#rusty quill gaming #rqg #rqg event #aroaceingtheline2021

158 notes · View notes