#yeah i kind of like the idea that some orcs can find their way back

[rohirric-hunter]

.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

my girl 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother’s friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

After dinner, you volunteer to do the dishes. It’s an easy way out of the awkward social cues and you find, it keeps your mom off your back so you can get a chapter in. You finish up, drying each and placing them neatly in the cupboards. Having defeated the dirty plates, you grab your book and head out to the porch. 

As the sun sets, the daytime heat dissipates into a mellow coolness. The smell of dew laces the fresh air. You lay back on the porch swing, feet up on the armrest as you read, the glow of the outside light giving just enough to make out the font. 

You plunge into the fictional realm head first. The buzz of crickets gives way to the eerie atmosphere of the underworld caverns and the night shifts in time with imaginary shadows. You are there with the party, trekking through the treacherous, waiting for a beast to surprise you. 

The front door swings open and hits the end of the swing. You squeak as the book slips free of your grasp and falls to the ground. You sit up as you crane to see over your shoulder, an orc-like silhouette adding to your fright. It isn’t real.  

Your vision clears and you return to reality. It’s only Sy. His eyes look just as startled as he looks down at you then his eyes skitter over to the ground. 

Before you can reach over the edge of the bench, Sy moves to grab the book. He lifts it and smooths the pages, dusting off the cover. He examines it before he hands it over. 

“Sorry, I’m a big lug sometimes,” he says as you accept the book and search for your place. 

“It’s fine,” you smile and keep your thumb between the pages. 

He reaches to rub the back of his neck then drags his hand over his beard. You noticed the same gesture several times during dinner and before that. It seems a habit that betrays a thoughtful mind. 

“Good book?” He gestures towards the novel. 

You look down and tilt your head, “it’s alright. Typical fantasy, you know?” 

“Ah,” he nods as the porch light leaves his features in darkness. 

“Mmhmm,” you smile and sit straight on the swing, your legs dangling over the edge. 

He steps closer and puts his hand on the post that holds the bench aloft, “erm, dinner was good.” 

“Oh? Yeah, it was.” 

“I know ya made some of it so... wanted to say so.” 

“Uh, right,” you laugh nervously, “yeah, guess I did.” 

He’s quiet and you’re just as speechless. The night breeze does little to cool the scald of tension all around you. Why is he talking to you? He should be grunting at Isaac’s dumb jokes. 

“Anyway, gotta head out,” he shifts on his feet, “you have a good night.” 

“Er, sure, you too,” you cheep. 

“Mmm, sure will,” he answers and lets go of the swing, turning to continue to the stairs. He stops at the top and looks back, “don’t stay out here too late. Thunderstorm coming.” 

“Is there?” You wonder as you look up at the sky, the moon clear. 

“So I heard,” he shrugs and sets off down the stairs with clomping steps. 

You stare after him as he stalks off, following the path down to the long driveway and to his large truck. The street light illuminates his silhouette as you feel the dampness woven into the wind. You sit back and let out a ‘huh’. You hadn’t noticed it until he said something, then again, you hadn’t been living in that world. 

💕

“Peanut!” Your mom calls to you from down the hall. “Little help!” 

You sigh and finish the sentence. You roll your eyes up and mark your page. You sit up, frustrated as each page seems to be interrupted by one thing or another. You roll of the bed and leave the book on your pillow. 

You open your door and a roiling wall of heat blasts you in the face. You head down the hall and find your mother a humid mess as she works in her apron, her forehead sticky, and a pan in her hands. She drops it with a clang on the stove top and puffs. 

“Ugh, these things are never going to cook,” she tuts and shakes her head. 

“Mom?” You cross your arms and lean in the doorway. Even with central air, her broil has the house as hot as Mordor. “What’s up?” 

“Well, I was hoping you’d make your apple blossoms for dessert but I just got a call from Isaac,” she shakes her head and wipes her sweaty brow. “He forgot his lunch.” 

“Oh,” you purse your lips and nod. 

“So, peanut, you wanna go for a ride? I’d take it myself but I’m in the middle of something,” she smiles and fans herself. “And I’m an absolute mess!” 

“Yeah, I guess I could,” you shrug, trying not to let your disappointment burn through. Considering she isn’t pressuring you to get a summer job like everyone else’s parents, you won’t push it.  

“You’re amazing, pea,” she trills and goes to the fridge. She pulls out a container of yesterday’s leftovers and shoves them into your hands, “and tell your brother not to be late.” 

“Sure,” you utter. 

“Ah, and if you run into Sy, you tell him he’s more than welcome to come by. Should be all sorts of extras tonight.” 

“Right,” you take the container and find a cloth bag to put it in. You head back to your room and swipe up your book and your phone. Just in case. 

You pluck your mom’s keys off the hook by the door as you slip into your sandals, the straps braided leather. You chose them because the little daisies reminded you of a woodland elf. You take your brother’s lunch and grumble as you cross the lawn. 

Your mother’s car is nicer than your dad’s truck. More manageable for you. You don’t need to adjust the seat very much and you can see the road, mostly.  

You take the drive slowly, enjoying the greenery of the neighbourhood. Your brother can suffer his own negligence. He’s an adult and he’s still forgetting his lunch at home. As always, someone else is cleaning up after him. 

You pull up to the shop. You’ve been there once or twice but never inside. As you get out of the car, you hesitate. Should you knock? You approach the heavy metal door and peer around.  

A whistle comes from your left and you turn as Sy appears from around the side of the building. His face is darkened above his beard and around his hairline with the residue of his work. The faint outline of safety glasses leaves a lighter patch in the middle of his face. 

“Hey,” his voice is sonorous as he holds a pair of gauntlets. “Everything okay?” 

“Um,” you blink at him then look back at the car. “Yeah, uh, my brother forgot his lunch.” 

You hold up the bag in your hand. He nods, his face placid. Impossible to read. In his leather apron and with his thick arms bulging under his sweaty tea, he reminds you of a dwarf in a Tolkien tale. You gulp and fidget. 

“Real nice of you to drop that off,” he says as he comes closer, “you’re real sweet like that.” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you clasp your wrist and sway nervously. 

“Want me to take it into him? Wouldn’t want ya ruining your clothes with all the fire.” 

“Er, I... if you don’t mind.” 

“If you’re askin’, I don’t mind,” he holds out a large hand, “I’ll get him that.” 

“Right, thanks,” you put it in his hand as he stares down at you, his gaze as hot as the torch he works with. 

“It’s nothing at all,” he assures. 

You smile nervously and back up as he towers over you. You rub your throat and look around again. You feel bad not offering now. 

“Mom said if you wanna come for dinner, we’ll have extra,” you say. 

He hums and puts his gauntlets against the bottom of the container as he holds it in both hands, making it seem tiny. 

“Won’t say no to dinner with a pretty girl,” he intones. 

Your eyes flick up and meet his. No, your mom invited him. He’s just being nice, right? The way he always is, at least when he bothers to speak up. Maybe he's even talking about her.

“I should... go,” you point with your thumb. 

“If you say so,” he agrees, “drive safe.” 

“Will do,” you spin and scurry off. Oof, you are so friggin awkward you could just-- 

You trip and stagger, keeping yourself on your feet. You cringe and turn back, giving a wave to assure him you’re not a total loss, then open the door. You keep your head down, refusing to look at him as you buckle in. 

Maybe you can convince your mom to let you eat in your room. 

[fahbev]

Humans and aliens don’t mix

I love this concept, I might end up writing something, but for now I’m just gonna do some bullet points. If you’re unfamiliar with the idea, search up “humans are space orcs” and you’ll get an idea where this came from

Humans bond in a very complex social way 

- other aliens probably don’t do this

- what if a human bonds to an alien?

- the human becomes very protective and fiercely loving of this alien. The alien probably loves them back, but in a very different and well, alien way.

- the human risks their own safety and goes feral to protect their alien friend. The alien appreciates it, but can’t fathom why they would risk themselves for someone else, no matter how much they like them. The human has done this repeatedly.

- at one point the human is in danger. In theory, the alien wants to protect their human friend, but isn’t willing to risk themself, even though the human is in greater danger.

- the human is in danger, and possibly in pain, and their friend is right there, capable of intervening. Imagine how crushed they are when their friend looks them dead in the eyes, and runs away. After all the human has risked and sacrificed for them!

- the alien feels a bit guilty, of course. The alien does feel they should reciprocate the kindness they were shown, and they really don’t want their friend to suffer. On their planet, friendships are more conditional, they benefit each other in times of peace, but when danger arrives everyone is for themselves. Or maybe their not social at all, and this is the first interpersonal bond they’ve had. Either way, anyone from this alien’s species would understand, and wouldn’t blame them. It’s not their nature, their brains don’t function like that. There are no protective instincts or courage, but the human doesn’t understand.

- anyway yeah, hurt feelings. The human feels betrayed and abandoned. Especially combined with the hurt of whatever happened to them in the first place.

- the alien knows that they hurt their friend’s feelings, and is pretty torn up about it. Despite the guilt, they’re also kind of angry. The human can’t expect them to do such extreme things for them! The human does so much more for them, but it’s still a crazy demand to ask!

-they probably reconcile, with the human understanding that this isn’t the alien’s fault really, it simply isn’t a function of their behavior. Even so, the human will have to accept that no matter how much they’d sacrifice for their buddy, they can never expect the same in return.

Also, a human meeting an actual space orc? HELL YES!  This could be the same alien, or a different one, i’m just rambling. (Don’t know where I saw this idea, but I can’t find the post sadly).

- imagine being feared and considered immensely dangerous. Your planet being considered a death world and you being considered badass, tough, cutthroat and terrifying just for surviving it. Imagine the complex that would give you, especially if your species is rare and your pretty separate from them!

- the human is used to being feared. They’re used to the hushed whispers, they’re used to being one of “the scary ones from the death world”. From hearing this for so long, they’ve come to believe it. They subconsciously decided to fit the bill of how they’re perceived. They act tough, aggressive, feral. They know they’re scary and badass and they flaunt it, they like being perceived this way.

- the alien, also from a so-called death world, is the opposite. They’re friendly, they’re peaceful, and they hate their reputation. They hate how their species is perceived just because of where they hail from. They aim to break the stereotype, and show the gentle giant that they actually are.

Now have them meet >:D

The human Sofia sits at the bar. The seats within six feet of her are all empty. She guzzles her fifth drink - apparently most species are affected by it similarly to alcohol, and some weaker species would be dead by the fifth drink. Sofia remains unaffected. She could drink 30 and be unaffected. It doesn’t even taste good. She slams her empty goblet on the table, all for show. The conversations nearby hush even further, and the fearful whispers start up again. Good. She should be feared.

The door opens. In comes a gust of wind, and a hulking figure. No one in the bar is talking now.

Sofia slowly turns to face the door. She sizes up the newcomer. They’re big, not twice Sofia’s height, but a few feet shy. Not that it matters, when she’s wrestled creatures the size of bears before. The armor plating though, it sported a recognizable pattern. The forelimbs too, that were an odd combination of insectoid legs and tentacles, were a dead giveaway. This was a rragletatch. One of the most feared species in the multiverse, from one of the deadliest worlds known to the galactic community. They’re as rare as humans too. She smirks. Finally, a worthy opponent.

Some chatter starts up again as the rragletatch begins to walk up to the bar, pretending to ignore Sofia. It was still eerily quite, considering this was a bar, and people were drunk. A few gasps and screams echo when Sofia abruptly stands up, knocking over her stool. Her smirk widens into a grin. She stalks confidently up to the rragletatch stranger, and stands close enough that they can’t ignore her. Several people began filing out of the building, while others chose to stay. “So.” The alien greets her.

“You’re one of those infamous rragletatchen I hear of, no? The ones who are supposedly suuuuper scary?”

“Yes, I am rragletatchen. You’re human, right?”

“Damn right.”

“well then.”

A long pause. Practically the whole bar was listening in anticipation.

“Fight me.” Sofia’s expression didn’t waver. On Earth, she never could have looked so intimidating while staring so far up at someone.

“No.”  what?  “Oh? You scared? I thought you were supposed to be tough or something.” The stranger didn’t look scared, but they must be. Why else would they not want to fight?

“I’m not scared.”

“Then square up bitch. See who’s stronger. Finally put it to the test.”

“No.”

The whispers now were not of fear, but of confusion.

“I will not engage in needless violence,” the rragletatch continued, “contrary to the stereotype of my kind, I will not harm others if at all avoidable. Attack me if you will, I refuse to fight you.” The rragletatch stood still in a wide, but open stance, as if preparing to be hit.  Sofia felt a flash of guilt. Something about attacking an opponent who refused to fight back felt wrong.

“You don’t want to see? Find out who the real champion is?” Sofia pushed aside her feelings and stared up. Unafraid, taunting as ever.

“No. My parents, grand parents and great grandparents before me have embraced a sacred philosophy of pacifism. It saddens me that my kind is known only for cuttthroat violence, only because of our home and biology. I refuse to hurt you. Do you truly wish to hurt me?”

Sofia was a bit shocked to say the least. When she realized her jaw was open and her head cocked, she quickly schooled her expression. That question though... she thought she did. But usually she just liked to brawl. Scare people. Assert dominance. When faced with an unwilling opponent who would not be scared of her... she realized she did not wish to cause harm. She never liked hurting people, that was never the fun of it.

“No.” Sofia sighed. She slouched from her offensive stance and backed over to her seat. “Come, sit with me.” It was phrased like a command, but really it was an offer. Everyone knew Sofia would have a hard time forcing this stranger to do anything. The rragletatch followed reluctantly. Sofia picked up her stool and plopped herself haphazardly on it. The stranger sat more eloquently on one of the many seats next to her.

“I’m Sofia.”

“Yal-sre.”

People moved their seats even farther from the Death-Worlders, or as some call them, orcs.  Suddenly, Yal-sre relaxed their whole body.

“Wow.” Yal-sre almost whispered

“What?” Yal-sre made a sound that, in aliens with exoskeletons, tended to equate to a soft laugh.

“To be completely honest, I thought you were going to kill me.”

Sofia barked a laugh.

“hey! I’ve never met a human before! I didn’t want to judge based on reputation due to my own, but you came on pretty aggressively!”

“Yeah, I’m the apex predator ‘round these parts, and I plan to keep it that way. Still though, I ain’t gonna fight you if you don’t wanna.”

“That’s a relief.”

Neither knew what to say next, and suddenly the nearby silence was so loud. Fortunately, a few conversations began to pick back up now that they were talking peacefully.

“What’s your planet like?” Sofia asked.

“My planet, Challrk, is beautiful. It has vast plains of purple vshink, glowing with bioluminescent insects. Sure, they bite. Sure, I’ve been stung, bitten, chased and harassed by many a critter, but Challrk is a truly incredible place. It has high mountains that stretch beyond the atmosphere, and colors some planets can’t imagine. Our sky is orange and pink, if you can believe that. What’s Earth like?”

“Earth. It’s a rough and tumble place, you can’t survive there without being Hardy. I’ve been chased by swarms of wasps and stung repeatedly more than once. I stepped on a bee and couldn’t walk properly for days. I’ve been stung by jellyfish, and went back into the bay knowing they were there with no protection. Unafraid. Earth is rough, our fauna is often hostile and transmits thousands of deadly ailments, much of our flora is poison. Our weather conditions alone could wipe out an entire species instantly. Earth is extreme.”

“i’m sure that’s true, but that’s what you’ve been told. By people who have never been there. People who are scared because they couldn’t survive there. But what is it actually like? What do you remember?”

“I- I remember the heavy storms. I remember punching a goose and having to go to the hospital. I remember- I remember the blue skies. Fluffy white clouds, flocks of songbirds. I remember walking barefoot because I loved the green grass under my feet, not because I was trying to face danger. I remember a loving family, playing with friends. Warmth and love. I remember going in the bay because I loved the feeling of swimming and playing in the water, not because I wanted to be tougher than the jellyfish. Earth is- Earth is a BEAUTIFUL place and it makes me ANGRY” Sofia slammed both her fists on the table, “that all it’s known for is being dangerous.” A few satisfying screams and gasps rang off in response.  Sofia looked over at Yal-sre. When they didn’t say anything, “I can’t read your face or body language. Can you give me a description?” This was actually a normal question to ask, in places where species were mixed.

“Uh, understanding, I’ve been there. Pleased that we’re getting somewhere. Uhhhhh, still kinda scared of you though. Sorry,” Yal-sre answered. Sofia gaped for a second, before she gave another rough laugh, knowing she probably sounded unhinged to the alien. “Ah!” Yal-sre yelped, “What- what are yours?”  Sofia laughed harder. “laugher can mean many things, in most cases it means ‘amused’. Right now, I am laughing at you, meaning I’m being rude because I find your fear amusing. If there was any non-human who wouldn’t be scared of me, I thought it would be the damn rragletatch. You guys are supposed to be tough shit, but you’re pathetic.”

Yal-sre paused. “Well, yeah. Some of us are tougher than others.”

“Hm, yeah I guess it’s kinda the same with humans. That makes sense. Obviously if you put a fearless human who’s tougher shit than most together with the most timid rragletatch, of course you’d be scared.”

“I’m not the most timid! I’m normal! I’ll bet most humans would be scared of me too, after hearing how “dangerous” we are for so long.”

“Maybe. Humans are tough, but I’ll admit they’re not all like me.” Yal-sre did an odd motion with their... shoulder?

“Translation? I don’t speak shoulder,” Sofia attempted to mimic the motion.

“Understanding, but now amused. Anyway, does it bother you?”

“Does what?”  “The fact that everyone is afraid of you? ... even me?”

“I like being feared.”

“Do you?”  Sofia took a long sip of her drink - which probably made it look like she was drowning her sorrows - to avoid answering the question. When she was done, she placed the goblet face down on the bar to signal to the bartender that she was ready for a refill. The metal was dented... she had put it down too forcefully.

“Oops.” Though it had been an accident, her voice held no remorse.

Anyway, might continue this, might not! I’ve had the “humans are space orcs” idea in my head for a long time, I might later separate this into its own post and make it longer lol.

[trickstarbrave]

I will give you a shiny quarter if you explain Morrowind to me like I’m five (pretty please)

its is quite difficult given i dont know how complex of topics 5 year olds can understand. but i can try to explain it in the most simple way possible because i explain it regularly to one of my roommates and wife who do not understand elder scrolls lore at all. be warned: this is still gonna be long and weird bc the story is long and weird.

(also excuse the swearing i wouldnt swear like this to a 5 year old)

a long long times ago, some 3000+ years before the game actually starts, there was a dude named nerevar. he made friends with some dwarves (dwemer) who lived underground and united the whole country of resdayn (later renamed to morrowind) to drive out the nords who had taken over. he also had a rly cool ring named moon-and-star, which was magic and let you be really persuasive, but he also enchanted it to kill anyone besides him wearing it so it couldnt be misused. this is relevant later

well he married the queen almalexia and made a big council of important people mostly made up of his buddies. he called it the first council and important people on it were his bestie voryn, his wife almalexia, and two younger friends sotha sil and vivec, along with the king of the dwemer dumac and dumac's mage kagrenac (the dwarves use weird magic with sound. if i go into details this will get very confusing).

for like 200 years because elves live for a long time, everything was pretty alright.

but it turns out the nords were there for a reason. they were looking for the heart of a dead god. the god's name for the sake of the story is lorkhan, but different places call him different things like shor or shezzar. the nords worshipped lorkhan and wanted to bring him back or something (probably, or at least just find it because hey thats their guy). but after 200 years of peace the dwemer found it underground in a volcano they lived in. and kagrenac had an Idea

the idea was to build a really cool really powerful giant robot mecha god (because the dwemer were really steampunk) to protect them. and it would be powered by the heart lorkhan.

voryn, nerevar's bestie, ended up finding out about this and told nerevar "hey the dwemer are up to something weird". and nerevar went "huh? they are?" and went to ask his goddess, azura, who knows a lot of things. azura said "yeah they are. stop them. what the fuck" and so nerevar went to his other bestie dumac.

and nerevar told dumac "hey why the fuck are you building a giant robot god?" and dumac's reply was "nerevar what the fuck are you talking about?" and nerevar, being mad his friend was Lying to him (maybe dumac didn't know. we dunno) because he already had multiple people confirm they were in fact doing that, he told dumac their friendship was over and kicked him off the first council and they went to war.

the details here get fuzzy. the nords showed up and joined in. the dwemer had steampunk robots everywhere. cat people showed up because why not. there were orcs there too. it was a big clusterfuck and there were different accounts of what happened. some people say voryn was fighting alongside the dwarves. some say he was fighting with the nords. some say he was fighting alongside nerevar. its hard to tell.

but most accounts have one thing kind of in common that a lot of the fandom agrees on: kagrenac grabbed their three cool tools to control the heart of a god, banged on it really hard, and then every single dwemer (except for one who was on holiday) vanished in an instant. and everyone was pretty confused by that, not really knowing what else to do. they now had a giant robot, the heart of a god, and 3 tools to wack the heart with to make weird shit happen.

so nerevar, unsure, said "hey voryn watch the tools for me." and left voryn with the tools and the heart. voryn said they should just destroy the tools, but nerevar wanted a few different opinions before just chucking them in lava or whatever. but while he was gone voryn started fucking around with the tools and the heart to see what would happen.

nerevar asked his buddies. almalexia, vivec, and sotha sil said they can use the tools to help resdayn/morrowind. nerevar didnt know if that was a good idea or not, so he asked azura. azura said "fuck no, dont ever do that". so nerevar made his friends pinkie promise him on azura's behalf not to use the tools on the heart.

and then again the accounts get weird here. some say nerevar died in battle against the dwarves/nords. some say voryn killed him. some say his friends (almalexia, vivec, and sotha sil) killed him. but regardless nerevar and voryn died. almalexia, sotha sil, and vivec had the tools. and they decided to use them on the heart and became gods.

this pissed azura off. they pinkie promised. what the fuck. so she made all the elves that lived there into dark elves. almalexia, sotha sil, and vivec became known as the tribunal and said "we dont need you anymore azura fuck off" and became living gods who could help their people and preform miracles! though they needed to take the tools up to red mountain and recharge their batteries on the heart regularly. azura tells them "nerevar will be back one day and beat all your asses" and made a whole prophecy about it called the nerevarine prophecy (reincarnations get the name+'ine' tacked on in the elder scrolls)

also the tribunal destroy voryn's house/family, the sixth great house of morrowind, house dagoth. just destroy it all. kill a bunch of ppl and the others kinda go somewhere else if they lived. because they sided with voryn or whatever and were deemed traitors

a bunch of other shit happens. septim empire rises to the throne. vivec trades the not working robot to tiber septim who makes it work with a bootleg wish version of the heart of a god and takes over. more time passes. its now the third era and its been 3500 years.

the protagonist is a prisoner who is released from their sentence in morrowind because the current emperor wants to use the prophecy to keep a better hold on morrowind politically. the protagonist was chosen because part of the prophecy is being born under a specific astrology sign and not knowing who your parents are. which could be anyone but y'know.

so the protag/nerevarine has to do a bunch of shit and finds out through weird dreams, oh hey, voryn's back. he's calling himself a god and dagoth ur now. asking nerevar to call him back, go grab the tools, and come meet him at red mountain. also maybe get married to or hook up with him or something. nerevarine thinks that's weird and ends up finding out dagoth ur has also unleashed a plague onto morrowind which turns you into scary eldritch monsters. and then one of dagoth ur's minions infects you with it.

nerevarine finds a cure which makes you not go insane and not turn into a big scary monster. but leaves all the cool shit of "you cant catch any other disease" and "you will never age". the never aging and getting diseases thing was also part of the prophecy. cool.

then the nerevarine needs to go to the nomadic ashlanders who live up north where theres a bunch of ash (hence the name) and worship azura (and the two other og gods) and ask all four tribes to name them nerevarine. they all think youre stupid because an outlander (someone not born and raised in morrowind) cant be the nerevarine. but you find an original copy of the prophecy and go "nuh-uh, i can be" and also go find the moon-and-star ring only nerevar can wear. then they go "well shit" and have you go a bunch of quests and then decide you're cool enough to be nerevarine.

then the nerevarine goes and convinces the three great houses you can talk to (the other two are on the mainland) to name you hortator, which is a war lord/classic roman definition of dictator, and it was the title nerevar had. you do some stuff, kill some guys, boom--named hortator.

then vivec hears about this and calls you in and says "well i guess you are the one doing the prophecy huh. look i need you to kill dagoth ur he's dangerous. here's our plan, are you in? i can give you one of the tools of kagrenac, you need to get the other two from dagoth ur's goons, and then kill dagoth ur's weird brothers he has put his power into. then bang on the heart with the tools and cut him off". vivec then teaches the nerevarine how to use the tools.

you can also just like. kill vivec and take the tool. you wont know how to use it tho and if you use it wrong you will take so much damage you die really fast. if you do this you can go to the only living dwarf who also has that disease but hasnt lost his mind and ask him how to use it and he'll be like "UHHHHHH i'll see what i can. fucking do i guess. i didnt make this." and he'll jerry rig it for you.

then you can kill voryn's brothers or not (you'll need to kill at least 2 for the other tools) and then march up to red mountain. dagoth ur will then be like "yo. are you really nerevar?" and you can say yeah or no or idk. and then have a conversation. and then you fight. but after you kill him he's not really dead, so you gotta run up and start wacking that heart while he yells at you to knock it the fuck off. and then he's cut off from the heart, you run away, and he falls in lava and dies.

and then azura shows up and goes "hey thanks man i have some other shit for you to do though". after which you can do some other content or play the dlc.

thats morrowind baby

[balls-into-laundrybaskets]

"i kinda assumed that was obvious..."

suggestions: OPEN

Eddie Munson x Reader!Gender Neutral **[18+]**

summary: After a particularly long D&D session, you get ready to go home but Eddie asks you out on a late night adventure

tags: mutual!pining ; foreplay ; fingering ; protected sex

wc: 21.5 k

~

It was another long night of playing Dungeons and Dragons across the Hawkins High School gymnasium. You had all started at 8 o’clock sharp and the time was now encroaching on 10:30. The snacks had run out and your friends were starting to nervously glance at their watches, wondering if they were going to make it out by curfew. 

Hellfire’s eccentric DM, Eddie Munson, leaned forward in his seat, his hands clasped together and brought to his lips. He watched as his players attempted to crack his latest dungeon puzzle and tried his best not to roll his eyes. These people could take on a hoard of skeletons and goblins no problem but when they come face to face with a door? He could practically hear their shared brain cell ping-ponging from each head. 

You sat down the table from him. You were shifting through the extensive notes you took, trying to find a clue or a tool that could help. 

You were a few months new to Hellfire. You had joined the group after being paired with Eddie in a science lab. It was the day everyone was supposed to be preparing for a test but, instead of taking notes on the lesson, Eddie was crouched over his composition notebook and scribbling furiously. You couldn’t help yourself so you innocently asked what he was doing.

“I can’t decide whether I want to have them fight 3 orcs or 4,” he said.

“O-Orcs? Like in Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

His ears perked up. “You’ve read Tolkien?”

“Yeah. It was a bit of a slog to get through. He really does go on and on about trees,” you responded smartly. 

With this he started to chuckle. “If you must know, I’m planning an attack for my D&D campaign next week.”

“Now you’ve lost me,” you smiled. 

“I run the Dungeons and Dragons club, Hellfire? You know, we wear these cool t-shirts.” He said, gesturing to the faded tee under his jacket. The scary red demon sneered back at you. 

“Did you make that yourself?” you laughed.

Eddie beamed, “I did, indeed. This is genuine sharpie!” 

You leaned into him and smiled, “Where can I get me one?”

“You gotta join Hellfire,” he smirked in an impish way, “Unless you’re scared.” He held out his hand for you. 

“You don’t know the lengths I’d go for a free t-shirt.” You shook his hand.

Many long nights later, you established yourself as “Lord Brasinworth Gwynith of Fflewdurr”, human barbarian. It was tough in the beginning, getting the rest of Hellfire warmed up to the idea of a stranger infiltrating the group. Luckily, you knew that they could be easily won over with a few good slices of pizza. 

“I’m going to pick the lock using my thief’s tools,” Gareth tried, looking anxiously up at the benevolent DM. 

“I’ve already inspected the door, dingus. It doesn’t have any traditional locking mechanisms,” Jeff interjected, “It’s clearly locked by some kind of magic.”

“Then why didn’t you dispel the magic?” Gareth spat.

“Because I used all my spell slots on that stupid mimic that SOMEONE had to try and open!”

Eddie rubbed his fingers to his temples. “ENOUGH!” The two bickering boys fell silent. “We’ll pick this up next week.”

“C’mon, Eddie! We can’t leave it here!” Gareth said.

“It’s just a stupid door!” Jeff followed, “Let’s keep going!”

“Y/N,” Eddie barked, arms crossed, “What say you?”

You snapped up at your name being called. The entirety of the group looked to you for your answer. You could feel the pressure mounting. The only solace you found was in your DM’s warm brown eyes. He started to soften when your eyes met his. 

“I think we should come back to this,” you said, “We’ll solve the puzzle better with a clearer head.” 

Eddie’s lips turned up into a smile. He rose from behind his folder and gestured to the group. “Until next time, friends.” The rest of Hellfire let out a collective groan and began to pack up their things. You sheepishly began packing your things away into your backpack, same as the others. Player after player left the building, until it was just the two of you.

Inspecting the amount of trash to be cleaned up, you decided to stay behind and help. Eddie silently watched as you picked up loose Hostess cake wrappers and styrofoam cups from the table. Dumping the rest of the garbage in a nearby can, you decided to break the silence.

“You’re very good at making puzzles,” you said. Immediately you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say, you thought. 

“I might venture to say I’m too good at making puzzles,” your DM chuckled. 

“I mean, it’s not your fault that we’re idiots,” you laugh.

He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “I’ve never said any of you were! Well, at least not to your faces.” The corners of his lips turn up into a smile, “I’m kidding. I would never call you an idiot, Highness.”

Eddie only called you “Highness” whenever you were playing as your character. He must’ve found it incredibly amusing but he had no idea the effect it truly had on you. Whether you were planning to or not, you began developing a crush on your DM. It started in secret, and you tried to deny it, thinking that you were just excited to play D&D or attending science class that day. 

But who’re we kidding? 

It was a mixture of his roguish looks and his attitude. You wanted to hear him talk about the things he was excited for, whether that be the campaign, music, books, movies, anything. Where others in the school found him creepy or weird, you found his quirks endearing. You truly didn’t understand how someone so genuinely funny and playful could have such a horrendous reputation. Not that he seemed to mind (or, if he did, he never showed it). 

The last of the garbage was picked up and Eddie swung his backpack onto his shoulder. You felt now was the time to start saying goodbye and walk to your car but he stopped you.

“Y’know, I was thinking about stopping by the game store and seeing if they had any new campaigns out,” Eddie said. He had his hands in his pockets, his thumbs hanging through the belt loops. His head was quirked to the left a touch as he looked at you through his bangs.

You blinked a few times, trying to compose yourself in front of this cutie. “There’re game stores open this late?”

“No, but I know a guy who works at the one near the mall.” He stepped toe to toe closer to you, “If we go now, I think he should still be there cleaning up.”

You lower your eyes into a squint. 

His impish smirk came back full force on his face, “They also have comics.” 

“Alright, I’m down,” you said, “But I’m driving.”

Eddie began to bounce with excitement and you felt a surge of joy knowing it was you who caused it.

***

The parking lot was expectantly deserted at 11 o’clock at night. The neon sign advertising the game store was the only source of light on the side of the street. You put your car into park and began to unbuckle your seatbelt. 

Thoughts of Michael Meyers and Freddy Kruger filled your mind as you realized how seemingly alone you two were. This was prime time for mugging and you doubted you had the same battle experience as your D&D character. 

Eddie exploded from the passenger seat, oblivious to the dark. 

“We gotta go to the back door,” he said. He took your hand in his and began walking quickly behind the store. You did your best to keep up with his gait and quell your heart from springing out of your chest. 

The singular lightbulb adjacent to the back door was flickering lazily. A few small bugs buzzed around and bonked their heads against it. Eddie used his free hand to knock a secret rhythm. He gave you a quick wink as you both could hear the scuffling of tired feet. 

“Munson,” a man said wearily through the opened crack in the door. His reddened eyes gave you a once over, “And guest.” 

“Charlie, we were wondering if we might be able to have a lil’ looksie at your handbook selection,” Eddie said, flashing a charming smile, “Wizards of the Coast. I’m sure you’re familiar.”

“You know I don’t do nothing for you for free,” the man dubbed Charlie drawled. 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Eddie reassured, “I’ve got you covered.” 

“What about them,” Charlie said, eyeing you again, “They cool?” 

Your eyes widen as both men turn their attention towards you. You’re not stupid. You knew that Eddie delt from time to time. Charlie was clearly a customer. 

“I’m cool,” you replied. 

Charlie huffed and closed the door. The sliding locks were removed and the door yawned wide with the man gesturing you inside. 

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes,” he said as you two passed. 

“You know I appreciate you, man,” Eddie said, clapping Charlie’s hand, sufficiently passing off his merchandise. Skipping ahead, Eddie held open the door to the front of the store for you. 

You made your way to the fold up table in the middle of the room that was stacked with boxes of single-issue comics. You squealed as you started flipping through the issues one by one. 

Beside you, you heard a loud, “YES!” You turned your head and Eddie was triumphantly holding up his prize.

“The Cult of Vecna,” you read from the cover. He gave you the book to read the inscription on the back. “Evil cultists… dark wizard…. hivemind? You think we’re ready for this?”

“After a few sessions, I believe it’s possible,” he grinned dazzlingly at you. 

You couldn’t help but begin to laugh. “Eddie, if I may remind you, we stopped the last session because we couldn’t figure out how to open a door!” 

“Ye of little faith!” he exclaimed, snatching the book back. 

“I’m just being realistic!” You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“Just you wait,” he smirked, “You’ll learn to eat those words.” 

“Does that mean you want me back?” you asked.

Eddie took a pause, reading your face. “I- uh… I kinda assumed that was obvious.” Color rose to his cheeks, “I think you fit in well with the rest of the boys.”

 It was your turn now to begin blushing. The corners of your lips quirked up as you turned your attention back to your pile of comics. “Well, uh… you did make it easy,” you said quietly under your breath, unsure if he heard you.

He did hear you. He sheepishly grinned as he drummed his fingers on the book’s hardback cover. He was relieved, the first time that you spoke to him, that you were different than the rest of the kids that went to Hawkins. Normally people avoided him like the plague or else attempted to make his life a living hell. He tried his best not to let it get to him but, in his darkest hours, he would admit that it got horribly lonely. Even Eddie “The Freak” Munson wasn’t prone to bouts of depression. 

Having you strike up a conversation nearly threw him off his rhythm. It was a gamble with every person who dared defy the social norm by talking to him. He thought he’d done a good job at creating a vibe that was just weird enough for people to leave him alone but he was uncharacteristically surprised when you became interested instead of repulsed. Especially because he thought you were cute. He also thought he seriously lucked out that you had even agreed to join Hellfire in the first place.

And now you were here with him in one of his favorite stores, engrossed in the comics put out before you. He was completely enamored with the way your eyes would spark with excitement when you found a comic you liked. It drove him crazy when your hair would fall into your face and you’d frustratingly brush it aside, only for it to fall again. He constantly felt like he needed to make sure you were having fun at sessions, always glancing at you from behind his folder to gauge your reactions. 

To put it simply, he was smitten. 

Eddie turned to see Charlie in the corner, eyeing them, poking at his wrist, letting them know their time was almost up. He picked up a few comics from your pile and put them on top of his book.

“I’m buying these for you,” he said simply.

You shook your head. “No, really, it’s okay. I still have some leftover lunch money in my pockets.” 

His eyebrow cocked challengingly and gave a tiny shake of his head. “Nope! It’s been decided,” he smirked, “Consider it as a thanks for the ride.”

Your cheeks flared but you grinned back at him, “At least let me buy you a late dinner. There’s a burger place not too far from here that’s open 24/7.” 

He chuckled, “If you insist.”

“I’m not insisting, actually. I can just drive us there whether you want to or not.” You crossed your arms across your own Hellfire branded shirt, “It’s my car, after all.”

“You’re kidnapping me?” he said, gasping scandalously.

“It’s not kidnapping! It’s more ‘driving someone somewhere against their will’.” 

 At this he laughed loudly, causing your heart to twinge in happiness. Eddie slapped a couple of bills onto the counter where Charlie normally rang up. The two of you exited the shop from the front entrance and dumped the merchandise in the back seat of your car. 

You sped down the road with the windows down and the radio blasting. There was a chill that still lingered in the air from the winter months. Your hair flew wildly around your faces as you picked up speed. The moon cast an ethereal glow onto the road ahead. 

You pulled into the drive-thru of the burger joint and ordered two burgers and an extra large fry to share. After getting the food, you decided to park in the remote parking lot, under a street lamp. Eddie cocked his seat back, making himself at home, as the two of you shoveled the greasy food into your mouths. 

“I did not realize I was this hungry,” Eddie mused. 

“I think the last Hostess cake was eaten around 9,” you said between mouthfuls, “And I guarantee you that it was Gareth who ate it.”

He tsked disapprovingly, “Damn Gareth.” 

“Damn Gareth,” you agreed. 

Eddie snuck a glance back in your direction, admiring the soft glow of the street lamp on your skin. You could feel him staring, and nervously swallowed your last bite.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“Why’d you join Hellfire?” he asked.

You thought about it for a second. That’s a very good question, you thought. It wasn’t like you to be joining random clubs just because a cute boy asked you to. 

“I liked your t-shirt,” you replied simply. 

Eddie shook his head, “That can’t be it, can it?” 

You chuckled, “Are you trying to get me to confess something? Because, if that’s the case, you can forget about it.”

Eddie swallowed, “Confess?” His heart had skipped a beat. “What’s there that needs to be confessed?”

“I don’t know,” you challenged, “Why’d you invite me to Hellfire?”

Eddie squinted his eyes and pursed his lips. He leaned his body casually against the passenger side door, taking you in completely. You watched him carefully, your eyes never straying from his face.

“You liked my t-shirt,” he said at last. You scoffed and tossed a french fry at him. He tried his best to catch it in his mouth and missed it completely. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles. “But seriously,” he stated, “There aren’t many people in school who would be seen with Eddie ‘The Freak’. So, what gives?”

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders, “I never believed in those shitty rumors about you.”

Eddie leaned on the console between you two. “Oh no?”

You shook your head. “Most of them were started by the basketball team anyway and their heads are massively inflated. I knew you were a recluse but you weren’t bothering anyone for the most part.” You felt excitedly nervous as his brown eyes watched you intently, hanging on every word. “I don’t know. You seemed harmless.”

He smiled a crooked smile, “Me? Harmless?” 

You watched his lips part and wondered if it was getting hot in the car or if it was just you. “Are you trying to get me to stroke your ego, Munson?” 

He noticed your line of sight and his cheeks began to bloom. “I just like hearing you compliment me, Highness.” 

Your face betrayed you with a small smile. The two of you watched each other’s lips as gravity began to pull you in. Eddie’s lips were soft, almost unsure of himself. It was as if he were dreaming and he didn’t want things to move too fast, lest he wake up. When he was 99% positive he was awake, he deepened the kiss. 

You were overcome by the smell of him. He tasted of old cigarettes and smelled like cologne he probably stole from the mall. You beckoned him into you as you cupped his face with your hands. His hand wrapped around your head, his fingers and rings tangling into your hair. His body leaned forward over the console, pushing yours against the driver’s side door. Your lips parted and he stuck his tongue into your mouth, letting out a soft moan. 

Your spine shivered with energy as he leaned further into you, his hand now finding its way to your chest. He traveled from your jawline down to your neck, where he began nibbling on you. A shudder escaped you as his tongue traced circles against your new hickie. 

“Go to the backseat,” you urged. Without another word, he slipped over the console onto his back, shoving the books off the cushions. You followed him over, straddling him. 

“Y/N,” he moaned as your lips reconnected. You began to grind on him, feeling his excitement poke through his jeans. His hands found their way under your shirt, where he began to grasp and fondle you. You returned the favor and started marking him along his neck. Your fingers also toyed with the edge of his shirt, skirting it up to expose his torso. 

He sat up with you and pulled his shirt away, revealing more poorly done stick’n’poke tattoos. Both of your breathing became heavy as you crashed together. Your head knocked against the glass but you were too busy to care. He began to fondle you against your pants and you could feel yourself becoming wet with desire.

“I want you,” he mumbled into your skin. You were practically a puddle in his hands. 

A loud rapping startled the two of you and a flashlight beam broke through the window. A patrol officer shined the light on the both of your faces with a disapproving scowl. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” The officer asked when the window rolled down.

Eddie sighed begrudgingly, not looking the intruder in the face. “No, officer. We were just leaving.”

The officer clucked his tongue, “Yeah. Sure you were, Munson.” He turned the blinding beam on you, “Get going. I’m sure your parents are expecting you.” 

You gave a curt nod, shifting up in the seat, red with embarrassment. “Yessir.” 

“You could do a lot better, y’know,” the officer finished, walking back to his patrol car. You glared daggers in his direction. Eddie flipped him off.

“Fucking asshole,” you grumbled under your breath. You climbed over the console again and into the driver’s seat. When you both were situated, you cranked the gears and gunned it in the opposite direction.

***

The car came to a crunching halt on the gravel outside Eddie’s trailer. The two of you had sat in awkward silence the entirety of the trip. 

“Please don’t take what that pig said to heart,” you said carefully.

“It’s fine. I get it all the time.” Eddie gave you a reassuring smile.

“That doesn’t make it any less okay,” you interjected, “You’re a good person.” 

Eddie pursed his lips again and averted his gaze to his hands on his lap. After a pregnant beat he spoke. “Would you like to come inside for some coffee?”

You glanced at the clock on your dashboard. 12:45 a.m. Your parents were probably wondering where you ran off to. 

Fuck it.

“Absolutely,” you said. 

 The trailer was exactly what you expected to look like on the inside. It was dark, even with the lights turned on. The constant drone of the generator outside provided ambiance. Eddie shrugged out of his jacket and looked around sheepishly. 

“I swear we clean… sometimes,” he grinned, embarrassed. You didn’t care in the least. You could tell his demeanor had changed. He was self-conscious, now that you were standing in his living room. It was a complete contrast from the confident swagger he exuded in school. However, you couldn’t tell if it was from the officer encounter or if he was becoming shy due to what happened between you in the backseat of your car.

Eddie rinsed out the stained coffee pot next to the sink and threw away the old grounds. He became extremely aware of your presence in his home. It was exhilarating having you near him, among familiar territory. He didn’t bring just anyone over. 

After starting a new pot, he turned to you, “W-Would you like to see my guitar?” 

“I’m offended you even have to ask,” you replied, hoping to break up the tension. His familiar crooked smile spread on his face once again as he took your hand in his. He beckoned you into his room in the back of the trailer. A stunning electric guitar hung on the wall adjacent to the bed. He dismounted it and strung it around his shoulders. You couldn’t suppress a giggle. He looked so hot. 

He took a seat on his bed and gestured for you to join him. “Now, don’t judge me. I’m still learning this song,” he started. You blinked cutely and propped your head up on your fists. He grinned, shook his head and began to strum. 

The music came out fast and lively. It stank of hardcore metal, which your DM was infamously fond of. He bobbed his head to the beat as his fingers started to shred. You watched those fingers, mesmerized, and crudely wondered what they’d feel like inside you.

He stopped suddenly, “That’s about as much as I can do so far.” 

“Metallica, right?” you said.

He started to golf clap. “Very good! Someone has been doing their homework!” 

“It’s only one of the few bands you constantly gush about 24/7,” you giggled, crossing your legs. 

“So you were listening!” He brought his hands to his heart in admiration, “Sometimes I wondered whether anyone was.”

“It’s hard to ignore when you do. Your face gets all jumpy.”

He barked out a laugh, “Jumpy?” 

“I don’t know how to describe it! You just twitch! I don’t know,” you laughed with him. “It’s cute.”

Eddie hid his face behind a chunk of his hair, “You think I’m cute?” He was as red as the demon on his shirt. 

You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. It only ended up falling in your face again. “I kinda assumed that was obvious.” 

Eddie reached across the way and brushed your hair aside. Your skin tingled where he touched you. His hand lingered by your ear.

“I would really like to kiss you again,” he murmured. 

“What’s stopping you?” you asked breathlessly. 

He shook his head as he shrugged his guitar off his body. His hands grasped the sides of your face as he pulled you into him. Your lips molded together as if they’d never been apart. He brushed more hair out of your face and began to kiss you all over. Your hands found their way to the hem of the Hellfire shirt once more and yanked it off of him. 

He began to climb on top of you, gently guiding you down onto his mattress. You started to work on your own clothing as his hand skimmed your hot skin. You couldn’t get naked fast enough. 

With you now shirtless, Eddie worked his way down your neck and past your collar bones, leaving in its wake, a trail of wet kisses. He grappled onto one of your nipples, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat. You took this moment to wrap your legs around his torso, slamming his pelvis into yours. He was throbbing. 

You palmed him through his jeans. “Get them off me,” he hissed. You unbuckled his belt and pulled down his boxers along with his pants. He kicked them off and you could finally see what he was packing. 

It was thick like a can of soda. 

“Fuck me!” you said incredulously.

“With pleasure,” he growled. His hand reached into your pants and he began to rub you. You let out a sharp gasp as your body erupted with pleasure. You helped to undo your own pants and they were carelessly tossed to the floor. 

Eddie’s hand grabbed your waist, squeezing tightly. He rubbed you harder and faster now. Your back began to arch as your mouth opened in a silent scream. Your legs were becoming numb.

“You’re so cute,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking cute!” He slipped his fingers inside, earning a yelp. He pumped and twiddled inside you. Now you knew what it felt like to be his guitar.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, “I-I can’t! I’m gonna-!” A shudder rocked through your whole body, leaving you both wet and sticky. You collapsed onto the mattress, sufficiently sweaty and panting. Eddie brought his fingers to his lips and tasted you. 

Your head was spinning. Where the hell did he learn to do that?!

“Is it your turn now?” you panted. 

Eddie bit down on his lip, “You want to?” 

You looked down at his still throbbing cock and nodded vigorously. “Consider it pay back for dinner,” you grinned slyly. 

Eddie threw his head back and groaned. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

He frantically reached for a rubber inside his night stand and tore the wrapper open with his teeth. You reached up and kissed him hungrily, stroking him as well. He bit at your lips as he rolled the condom down his shaft. He positioned himself between your legs and stared deeply into your eyes. You nodded once more and you could feel the tip begin to enter. You hissed as he plunged further into you. 

Eddie pumped slowly, reading your reaction. Your legs clamped around his waist tightly and your fingers began to dig into his back. Attaching his lips once again to your neck, he gradually picked up speed. The mattress box creaked with every thrust, making noisy music with the generator outside. 

Eddie grasped your ass in both his hands. The only noises he made were those of shuddering gasps and occasional whines. Your toes curled as you felt every last inch of him slam into you. You couldn’t think, you could hardly breathe. Even if you could manage a cohesive thought, you never would’ve imagined your night ending with you being plowed by your DM. 

Likewise, Eddie would’ve never guessed he would be burying his dick inside you just a few short hours after your D&D session. He’d need to remind himself to buy a lottery ticket before his luck ran out. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck! Y/N!!” You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he came inside you. At last, you two crumpled on top of each other, panting like you both ran multiple marathons at once. Once he regained himself, Eddie propped himself up on his elbows. His long hair skirted across your sweaty face. His eyes searched yours as you both erupted into laughter. “Are you alright?” 

You nodded contented, smiling large, “I’m good! Are you?” 

“Better than I’ve felt in a while,” he responded. He placed a sweet peck on your forehead. “You still want some coffee?” 

You returned the kiss, “It’d be a waste to refuse otherwise.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

LARP and the Real Girl: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I am so sorry I haven’t posted. I was sick with the flu and completely forgot about it. I will be posted both episodes now!

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Gerry comes back with Monty, and the three of you are on your way. They know where they're going better than you do, so you let them take the lead. By this time, the sun had just set, so it's getting pretty dark in the forest. There are lanterns that they put up, but it's barely enough light to light your way.

"I swear, if anything's happened to her..."

"Dude, we checked all the tents. We'll talk to these guys. We'll find her," Sam assures his brother.

Gerry and Monty stop in a small clearing, telling you that this is the meeting place.

"Ca-caw! Ca-caw!" Monty caws like a bird.

"Ca-caw! Ca-caw!" a man says from inside the dark forest.

Three Shadow Orcs in cloaks walk into the clearing, carrying flashlights. The Shadow Orc in the middle has the Tree of Pain symbol on a crest in the middle of his shirt.

"Greetings, heretics," Gerry says.

"You should kneel before me, cur."

"Alright, why don't you let me--"

"Silence!" Gerry shouts, silencing Dean. "Now, before we exchange, a few announcements."

The Shadow Orc with the Tree symbol takes out his fake teeth and moves closer to Gerry.

"Um, there is a peewee-league soccer playoff game tomorrow on the alpha field. We don't want to freak out the mundanes, so we have to move the Battle of Kingdoms to the beta field."

Dean is sick and tired of this, so he removes his gun that he stashed into his costume.

"That's it. You know what? I'm gonna do this the old-fashioned way."

"Dean, don't," Sam tries, but it goes over his head.

"No, I'm--"

"I told you there are--"

"Shut up," Dean says to Gerry and raises the gun in front of the Shadow Orcs. "I need real answers. This is a real gun, see?"

Dean points his gun to the ground and shoots, scaring everyone there but you and Sam.

"This is so hot," you whisper so that only Sam can hear.

"Really?" Sam says, disgusted.

"Now, start talking. Where's the queen?!" Dean yells.

"I don't know!"

"Yeah, well, your little family crest there tells a different story, pal."

"This?" the Shadow Orc points to his chest. "I got sick last month after this thing just appeared." He takes off his right gauntlet and pushes up the sleeve of his right arm. There is the tree symbol on his arm like Ed and Lance had. "I thought it looked really cool, so I turned it into my family crest. I mean, after my dermatologist said it wasn't malignant."

"Dean, he's not our guy. He's just another victim," Sam says.

"My name is Max Hilby. I'm an attorney. I have no idea where the queen is, but if you let me go right now, I won't press charges. I promise." He takes off his fake ears and holds them with his gauntlet to Dean. "Take them. Please."

"Go. Go! Go!"

The three Shadow Orcs run away, scared of Dean. Your husband turns to face everyone else, all with different expressions on their faces.

"What?" He rolls his eyes in annoyance. "What?"

"Is the queen really in danger?" Monty asks, taking out his teeth. You and Dean nod simultaneously. "Okay, there was something odd down by the creek. It's this weird tent. It's not one of ours. It's kind of creepy."

"Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?" Sam asks.

"Look, I harbor an epic crush on the queen. Maybe you could put in a good word for me when you find her."

"I don't think you're her type," Dean puts it plainly.

Dean and Sam walk in the direction where Monty pointed to, and Gerry follows behind them, oddly silent.

"You don't really have what she's looking for," you state.

"What is it? I can get a haircut or lose some weight."

You want to tell him he doesn't have a vagina, but you resist the comment. You shake your head and follow the brothers with Joanna jogging to catch up with you. Monty kind of gives up and heads back to camp, but Gerry is adamant on following you to the tent. Like what Monty said, there is a tent all by its lonesome.

"Why don't you take off, Bolty? We got it from here," Dean says.

"Two handmaidens and a time traveler rescue the queen? I think not, kind lady."

"Look, this isn't a game, Gerry. The queen, our friend, is in real danger. You could get hurt," you say.

"I will not leave my queen in peril."

"Your funeral."

You and the brothers head inside the tent where Charlie and some random girl are making out on the bed. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away to give them some sort of privacy. Dean clears his throat, and Charlie jumps away from the woman in shock.

"Dudes. If the tent is rockin', don't come a-knockin'."

"No, it's him! My master!" the woman gasps, pointing at the person behind you. You turn to see Gerry standing there with a smirk on his face. You back up with Joanna's hand in your own. You get to where Charlie and the woman are, and you put Joanna's hand behind you, and Charlie looks down at it. She understands what you must be telling her to do. You're the one with the magic, and you won't be able to use it if you're worried about Joanna. She takes her hand and pulls the child close to her body to keep her away from the danger.

Sam and Dean take out their guns, but Gerry only smirks at them, unaffected by their threats.

"No guns in Moondoor, gentlemen. Gilda, if you please?"

The woman Charlie was making out with sighs and made a hand motion. At a mere thought, the guns turn into feathers which flutter to the ground.

"Well, now what, Gerry?"

"My name is Boltar the Furious!" he yells in anger. "My plan was, after getting rid of all of my competition, to win the battle tomorrow, convincing the Queen that I should be her King. Then you three idiots showed up, and I was forced to improvise. Rescue the damsel in distress from the Orcs, become King, kill you three--that'll work, too."

Like hell is is putting a hand on you.

"So, why did you go from hobbling to murder?" Sam asks.

"Greyfox and Thargrim became part of the honor guard. They got close to the Queen, but they did it by breaking the rules--paying off other players with real money, rather than Moondoor currency. They were cheating!"

"Oh, and using magic isn't?" you ask.

"Magic is a part of Moondoor."

"What is your problem? Why would you hurt people? This is just a game," Charlie says.

"There is no game!" he yells at her. "There is only Moondoor! I came here to be different, to get away from my shitty life to be a hero."

"You're a loser in the real world, and you're a loser here."

"Would a loser track down a real book of spells and compel a fairy to do his bidding?"

"It depends. How'd you get it?"

Gerry pauses and looks up in uncertainty.

"eBay."

"Look. It doesn't have to be like this, Boltar. Just hand over the book of spells. We can work this out," Sam tries to convince him.

"This will all work out after I remove you from the playing field and wipe her memory." Gerry picks up a wooden sword and looks at the fairy. "Gilda?"

Gilda sighs once more and waves her hand, causing his fake sword to turn into a very sharp one.

"Gilda, the big one."

Gilda regretfully makes a hand motion, and the suit of armor behind Sam grabs him around the neck and waist. She must have spelled it to be stronger than him, because Sam can't get out of it. With Sam out of the question, it's down to you and Dean is obviously going to try before you do, and he swings his own wooden sword, but Gerry's sword cuts it in half easily.

Dean rushes at Gerry and punches him across the face, causing a book to fall onto the ground. Gerry doesn't seem to notice that it fell because he makes no move to get to it. Gerry slams the butt of the sword into Dean's face, making the older Winchester out of commission as well.

It's up to you, and you're going to make sure that he doesn't hurt anyone else. You take a few steps toward Gerry, and he turns to face you. He looks at your pregnant belly and scoffs, thinking this will be easy.

"I don't want to do this to you."

"You won't get the chance to."

He swings his sword at you, and with your magic, you grab the blade end. You look up at his shocked face, and your entire eyes are glowing with blue magic. Your magic is preventing the sword from cutting you, and it's strong enough that when Gerry tries to yank it away from you, he can't.

"I'd rather not kill you in front of my kid, but I will."

"She can't stop him. You must destroy the book," you hear Glinda say to Charlie.

With Gerry distracted by you, Charlie keeps Joanna safe off to the side before dashing to the book. She takes out a dagger she found inside the tent and raises it above the book.

"Hey, Gerry. I'm the one who saves damsels in distress around here."

Gerry looks down at his belt where he thought his book was, and Charlie stabs the book with the dagger as hard as she could. You let go of the sword and let your eyes return back to normal as you step back. Gerry freaks out and begins yelling at Charlie for ruining his plan.

The suit of armor holding Sam back falls to the ground, Sam and Dean's guns return back to normal, and the sword in Gerry's hand returns back to its wooden state. Gerry isn't too confident about his odds now, but he still tries to overpower Dean who is already on his feet. He swings the wooden sword at him, and your husband catches it in his hands. With the butt of that sword, he smashes it into Gerry's face, knocking him out completely.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asks Glinda.

Joanna runs over to Dean who picks her up and holds her close.

"I'm free of the spell. You saved me. The Hollow Forest is forever in your debt. I must return to those green hills now. I will take my former master with me. He must face a fairy tribunal for his sins."

Gilda moves to Gerry, but Charlie stops her before she can get too far. She pulls the fairy into her and kisses her for a few seconds. Glinda pulls away with a smile then winks at Charlie. She and Gerry both disappear in a twinkle and shimmer of lights.

It's late at night, and you'd rather leave this place when you've gotten a good night's sleep.

It's mid-morning when you finally wake up, and you're glad the Winchesters decided to let you sleep as long as you could. You really needed it, and when you leave Charlie's tent, they're talking in a small huddle.

"Sleeping Beauty. You're awake," Dean smiles.

"I needed those eight hours," you chuckle.

"So, what's next for you, Charlie? New town? New identity?" Sam asks.

"If the last twenty-four hours have taught me anything, it's that escaping isn't what it used to be. No more replacement characters for me. I gotta face reality from now on. Sadly, reality actually includes monsters, but what are you gonna do? If I can ever be of help to you guys, let me know."

"Are you okay, Charlie?" you yawn.

"Apart from the fact that you blocked me from banging a fairy, and I'm about to lose my crown in battle because my army is decimated? Yeah. Totally good." She starts to leave, but then turns back and holds up her hand in a Vulcan salute. "Smell you later, bitches."

"So, what's next?" Dean asks his brother. "Because no fun, right? Look, before you say anything, I get it. No amount of fun is gonna help you get over what you gave up. You need time, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks. You're right. Having fun won't help me. It'll help both of us. Shall we?" Sam grins.

You wish you could be part of this, but you're too pregnant to participate. Joanna is with you off to the side while Sam and Dean get dressed up to take part in the Battle of the Kingdoms. This is going to be really funny to watch, so you take out your phone and start recording this. This is something you want to hang over Sam and Dean's heads for as long as you can.

There are speakers hooked up so that epic battle music can be played while the battle takes place. Two armies of costumed LARPers are lined up facing each other. Dean is wearing a long-haired wig, and half of his face is painted red and the other half is painted white. He also wears two Orc ears on a string around his neck. Sam's hair is in a ponytail, and two opposite quarters of his face are painted red, and a further quarter is painted white.

"Dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days, from this day to that, for one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they will never take..."

"Hold!"

You laugh at Dean's dramatic speech. It's the only one he knows, and it's from Braveheart. Joanna sits in between your legs and claps at her father's speech. She definitely gets her theatrics from him. The music comes to a stop as a frisbee sails onto the ground in the space between the two armies. A random man jogs to get the frisbee, apologizing for ruining their game.

"Uh, my bad," he chuckles.

The man picks up the frisbee and quickly jogs off the field. The music resumes, giving back the dramatics to the players. Dean gets back into his speech mode and holds up his fake sword.

"... our freedom!!"

Both armies cheer and start to run at each other. You can't help but smile because even through every dark and depressing moment of your life, you can still find the little things to enjoy.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (Orc x Reader) Part 2

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2107 words

Summary: You and your boyfriend establish a new normal

A/N: At long last, the highly requested part two! I had a bit of struggle coming up with a proper followup to the first part (which was part of why I left it with an open-ended ending in the first place lol). Little less angst this time, I felt these two deserved a little sweetness after the last chapter. Hope y'all enjoy!

Part 1

The first thing that caught your eye when you walked by the music store was the Grand Piano. It was gorgeous: Polished mahogany, a nice velvet seat, and keys that looked like they had never seen the sticky fingers of a curious 8 year old.

“Wow, is that new?”

You nod, admiring the old-fashioned air of the instrument. You knew jack shit about music, but even you could tell that this piano was an antique, one probably worth a good chunk of change.

“Must be. I’ve never seen it before and this place is on my way to work.”

Waruck hmms, pressing his hands up against the glass. His eyes sparkle when he sees the “Free to Play” sign right next to the piano. It probably reminds him of his Grandpa’s, the one he played when you guys visited his family for Christmas.

That was a long time ago.

“Want to go in?”

Waruck pulls away from the glass, eyebrows raised. He rubs the back of his neck and steps a couple feet back, trying to curb his enthusiasm.

“Uh, we don’t have to-”

“I don’t mind. It's been a while-” You pause, the slight-anxiety in the air making every casual word difficult, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard you play.”

Waruck smiles, small and polite, and opens the door of the shop for you. Before, he might have done a little bow and said “Ladies First” in a British accent.

But that was before, and this is now. Now, every comment is walking on eggshells, whispered tentatively and under your breath. Testing the waters for how comfortable you two could get around each other.

Still, it was exponential growth from two months ago.

--------

After your meeting at the coffee shop, you had asked Waruck for a month; A month of privacy, for you to collect your thoughts and feelings, to be alone for a bit. He had agreed immediately, shuffling out of the cafe with a hunched back and a melancholy air, but he had kept his promise. You took the time to focus on other things, shifting your relationship to the back of your mind and enjoying the day-to-day.

But a part of you felt a little bad, like maybe you were stringing Waruck along for an inevitable breakup. Getting his hopes up for an extra tortuous punishment that left a sour taste in your mouth. So on one brave Saturday night, you sent him a meme you saw on Instagram, one that reminded you of him.

That second month saw the two of you texting more and more frequently, sending little jokes, asking how your day was, so and so. Each week rebuilt a little bit more of that familiarity, that comfortableness. It finally got to the point where Waruck asked if you were free one weekend. He just wanted to get some lunch and stroll around the neighborhood for a bit. For the first time in a while, that idea didn’t seem too bad.

--------

The air is considerably cooler inside the store, a tiny bell ringing as a rush of air-conditioned air hits both of you. Waruck makes a beeline for the piano, his footsteps short and quick. You feel a smile crawl on your face; He always acted like an excited kid when it came to music.

Waruck plops down in the center of the stool, fingers lightly brushing over the keys in awe. You walk up the piano’s side, laying your hand on the wood and admiring the lack of smudge marks on the polished wood. Waruck tests out a G note and although the sound is short, it’s extremely pleasant. Waruck’s smile grows even larger.

“When I was a young boy…”

You mutter under your breath. Waruck chuckles, quickly continuing onto a G flat.

“My father took me into the city,” Waruck hums

“To see a marching band.” The two of you sing together, laughing a little bit too loudly and gaining a sharp look from the tired sales clerk. Waruck waves a little apology, but that playful grin stays on his face.

“Wow, that brings back some repressed Hot Topic memories.”

“Seriously. I can almost feel the book my band teacher used to thwack me with. Me and my buddies would sneak into the choir room and play that all the time.” Waruck’s fingers dance over a couple more notes, aimless.

You’ve always liked watching Waruck play. His fingers were so dextrous and controlled,  not to mention long and nicely articulated. He’d probably make good money from a hand-model side-gig.

“Want to take a seat?”

You shift your focus away from Waruck’s hands. He’s made space on the bench and pats the open space next to him.

“Yeah, sure.” You say, despite the fast pace your heart is now beating.

You keep a solid two inches of distance between your bodies, keeping your thighs together as to not brush your legs with his. It felt like a middle school dance, keeping a bible length away from your partner to avoid the disapproving stare of the chaperones.

Waruck nods, absentmindedly running his fingers up the scale. “Any requests?”

Immediately, all non-love songs depart from your brain. One of your favorite pieces sits on the tip of your tongue and your brain refuses to let it go. You shake your head.

“Nope. It’s all yours, music man.”

Waruck chuckles, a little louder and a lot more comfortable, as he sits deeper in his seat.

“Prepare,” Waruck cracks his knuckles, “to be amazed.”

You bite back a laugh. He’s still such a dork.

He starts to play, his hands easily finding the right keys, moving like a well-oiled machine. Your heart nearly skips a beat before it melts into a puddle of sentiment.

It’s your favorite.

The song brings back memories of your childhood, a rainy day in, and delicious food. It’s like chicken soup for the soul and you can feel any of the left over tension leave your body.

Waruck’s eyebrows furrow with concentration, but he has a large smile on his face, his large tusks peeking out from his lips. His arm stretches across the piano as the song hits its most fast-paced part. His biceps and shoulders lean more into your space, but the feeling isn’t unwelcome. It feels natural, as if his presence and yours is part of the piece itself.

Waruck’s thigh brushes against yours, but his pace doesn’t falter and neither does yours. You stay enraptured, watching how easily he slips into the music. You barely even notice how you have begun to lean closer to his side; Your mind says it’s to give his arms plenty of space to play, but it’s still far more comfortable than you are willing to admit.

How easy it feels, in the moment, to fall back into routine.

The song begins slowing to a stop, only a couple seconds left, when the sounds of the music shop return to you. A giggle from not too far rings discordant with Waruck’s piano.

Three girls stand not too far from you, watching with fascination as Waruck plays.

“Wow, he is so good!” One whispers to her friends.

There is nothing even remotely lascivious in their eyes or in their words, but a knife still twists in your gut. Your throat constricts as flashes of your bedroom, of unanswered texts, and a picture of a bar corner booth send needles down your spine and into your heart.

Is this wrong? Is this giddy feeling you have only distracting you from reality? Is it like this song, Waruck’s playing, beautiful but temporary?

“Ugh, I want what they have.”

“I know, right? How romantic.”

They’re wrong, you’re wrong, this is wrong; It’s fake, fake, fa-

Your eyes dart to and fro, trying to desperately avoid Waruck’s quickly overwhelming body heat and your audience, before it catches on the distorted shape of your reflection in the window.

The glass is old, slightly drooping, even the golden lettering of the music shop’s name looks dusty and sun-bleached.

But what is unmistakable is you and Waruck. Waruck, playing piano, and looking at you. Looking at you with the love in his eyes you thought had died, or had never been there at all. The group of girls stands in the background, small and out of focus.

And Waruck is staring at you.

“Are you okay?” Waruck asks, his warm hand on your shoulder.

You whip your neck around, almost getting whiplash.

You’re here, in the music store, with your boyfriend. He looks at you, brow slightly puzzled from your wild eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I,” You suck in a deep breath, “Sorry, I guess I got lost in my own head. That song gets me kind of nostalgic.”

Waruck pats your shoulder and you miss it’s heat when he pulls it back to his side. He smiles, but you can tell he is still slightly worried.

“No problem, I get it.”

You notice now how much closer Waruck is to you. His chest has shifted towards yours, the fabric of his shirt sleeve pressing against the skin of your bicep. Waruck’s knee absentmindedly knocks into yours, but the contact doesn’t sting or jolt you. Not even the continuing silence makes the situation awkward.

It’s nice.

“Do you want to check out the record aisle? They might actually have that piece on vinyl.”

Waruck gestures with his thumb to the piles of CD’s and records not too far from you two. You nod

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

--------

The two of you spend about an hour in the music store, pointing out hilarious cover art and admiring some vintage finds. Waruck even gets you to chuckle a couple of times, slowly bringing out his old cheesy puns.

Waruck’s missed this.

You two walk out of the music store at the tail end of one of Waruck’s jokes, you playfully punching his shoulder.

The two of you wander, in the opposite direction of your cars, for a little while. But Waruck hasn’t lost track of time; No, he’s soaking in every moment he can, every smile and lingering look you give him. Every reminder that this is real.

He spent a week agonizing over what he did. Stuck in silence as he gave you your space. His friends (His real friends, not those assholes from the bar) had offered to come by and keep him company, but he turned it down.

When Waruck got back into routine, it was slow-rolling. It was difficult to fight the instinct to check his phone for a good-morning text, or check your Instagram for any ‘post-breakup’ partying.

No, he had already broken your trust once. The least he could do was give you some time. Spend some hour not wallowing in self-pity, but actively make a change.

Waruck began to accept those invites to a chill hang out, playing some poker and sipping on beer with the gang. He played his keyboard when the thoughts got too loud and went jogging when the music wasn’t loud enough. He called his mom a couple of times, even sent his sister a  couple of texts to catch up. They hadn’t spoken outside of holidays for almost three years.

Maybe he was the one that needed time.

God, why did you have to be so smart?

“Oh shit, how long have we been walking?” You mutter, checking your watch for the time. Waruck turns around you, already knowing the answer was 27 minutes, exactly. The both of you were nearing the edge of the neighborhood, cafes and shops turning into residential suburbs. “Dang, time really flies, huh?”

Waruck smiles.

“With you? It always does.”

You give him a half smile, patting his bicep. “Oh my god, you’re such a cheeseball.”

Waruck winks and shoots you some finger guns.

“You know it babe.”

You giggle, checking your watch once more, face turning just a little bit.

“I should probably head back, I’m getting dinner with some friends tonight.”

A small part of Waruck yearns for more time, but he lets it go.

Space, this was about establishing space.

“I had a lot of fun today, Waruck.” You step a little closer, Waruck’s heart skips a beat.

“Me too.” He whispers, his breath catching as your fingers brush against his.

It’s a simple gesture, one you’ve down a million times. But when your palm slips into his, your finger’s interlocking, it’s like fireworks have gone off.

“Same time, next week?”

Waruck nods, not trusting himself to speak without a voice crack.

That’s all he needed, all you wanted; The promise of the future.

“Yes, I would love that.”

[saphirered]

would you mind doing a little scene maybe of caduceusxreader or maybe calebxreader where their s/o ends up hit with pollen during battle that gets them super high alla knott and the floor fruit style please?

Little turned into a bit more of a scenes instead 😅. A little disclaimer; I do not condone the abuse of substances especially not illegal ones. Listen to your auntie Saph, kids! Stay in school and be responsible! 😘

Content Warning: Use of mind altering substances.

It’s the middle of a fight in the jungle. You’re under attack by a large lizard walking on its hind legs, with some rather useless short arms but huge sharp teeth that have munched on Fjord one too many times leaving the half-orc in a bleeding and moody state without much of a chance to get out and not get hit again.

The battlefield is not in your favour considering this oversized lizard is about to turn your friend into its next meal but you still have a healing potion left and really, this is the time to use it but you can’t really get to Fjord without getting close to the lizard thing and even then you doubt you’d be able to get into arms reach of the man. Well it’s now or never and better than the alternative. You rush forward dodging below the toothy maw of the creature.

“Fjord! Catch!” With that you get as close as you can, tossing the healing potion. Fjord just barely catches it, thanking you but that quickly falls silent.

“Look out!” Caleb shouts as he releases a firebolt to strike the lizard. It does not stop the creature from swiping with its tail sending you flying with a brute force knocking the air out of you. Luckily your landing is softened by a comfy bed of flowers, moss and some mushrooms. You land a cloud of spores and pollen dusting around you and entering your lungs as the first breath you’re able to take. It leaves you coughing and sneezing but you shake it off. This is not the right time for allergies to be kicking in. You got a lizard to kill.

Together you fight off the lizard. Still taking quite some good hits you deliver some as well and in the end manage to kill the thing. Some of you worse for wear you unanimously decided taking a breather is probably a good idea. You find a comfy patch of moss that does not release a dust cloud the moment you touch it and let yourself fall into its soft embrace, eyes closed.

“I’m just going to lie down over here. Let me know when we’re moving again.” An odd sense of nausea kicks in so you turn to your side and just curl up in an attempt to get a little more comfortable on the jungle floor.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Caleb asks looking you over. Physically you're a bit worse for wear but not terribly so. A moment of rest should have you back on your feet. You phase out a bit letting yourself be dragged off in a moment of rest.

Not but five minutes later your moment of peace is disturbed by a warm, really warm but comfortable hand being placed on your arm and shaking you lightly. You curl up a little tighter before rolling on your back and meeting the bright blue eyes of Caleb. You don’t recall them being that bright, maybe more like a muted or pale blue but now they’re vibrant. Odd you hadn’t noticed before. Same goes for his hair, red is more fiery orange and you swear you can pick apart every single strand on his head as well as the light stubble he’s sporting.

"Hey." You smile at the wizard lovingly. You'll never tire of waking up to Caleb no matter of how much you might want to continue sleeping. Caleb's a handsome man but right now he looks absolutely angelic with the bleeding light creating a halo around him.

Maybe it’s just because of the faded green background behind Caleb that throws off the contrast? Besides, you might have fallen asleep in your five minutes of rest, your vision usually goes a bit blurry until things come into focus but that doesn’t really explain why Caleb is so high focus now… Odd but you dismiss it as exhaustion and the vast jungle getting to you. No, you definitely hit your head when that lizard tail swiped you. Maybe you have a concussion. Should ask the clerics to check that out later once they’ve gotten their rest. Now's not the time to bother them.

“Hey. Time to get up. We’re ready to move before nightfall comes around.” Ugh. Even his voice sounds angelic now? Caleb offers you a hand and helps you up from the comforts of your moss-bed. Somewhat reluctant you get up. The nausea gets worse and you put a hand over your mouth suppressing the urge to vomit.

“Are you alright?” Caleb stabilises you as you stumble a little, dizziness not making your nausea any better. Sweet gods those warm hands just make you want to curl up into their warmth forever but you repress the urge well aware Caleb isn’t exactly the fondest of pda and keep it more surface levels with the others around.

“Yeah. Totally fine just a bit ugh but I’ll be fine. Some more sleep will probably do me good.” You see the rest of the Nein is packed up and ready to continue. Weren’t they just unpacking when you closed your eyes five minutes ago? Okay so maybe those five minutes were closer to an hour or so? What kind of exhaustion fuelled time warp did you get stuck in? This exhaustion is really getting to you. You need a vacation; one with Caleb. Maybe with an ocean view? That sounds nice. You're getting side tracked. Time to travel.

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

The journey continues deeper into the jungle towards your destination and your limbs get heavier and heavier. Did Jester paint you some lead shoes and replace yours while you were asleep? Did she do your clothes too? Because your whole body feels so heavy.

You bump into Caleb’s side. A hand finds its way to the small of your back and the warmth returns. You didn’t realise you’re feeling so cold, freezing almost so you allow yourself to lean just a bit more into Caleb’s side to bask in the warmth provided by your flaming hot wizard.

“You don’t happen to be able to make someone do the floaty glide thingy Essek can do, can’t you?” Caleb is confused by your sudden question and the unfiltered sentencing. You usually formulate your words more carefully than this but it seems as if the word ‘gravity’ has escaped your vocabulary. Caleb blames it on exhaustion seeing your somewhat unfocused state and feeling the weight of your body leaning on him for support. You’ve been walking for hours, running for a few and fought a giant lizard of a forgotten era after all. You have every right to be tired and he'll support you in any way he can.

“Ah, I’m afraid not. But, we will be setting down for the night once we reach a clear spot.” Didn’t you catch that conversation? You were there for it providing nods and noises of agreement while keeping an eye out for anything approaching. This is a bit odd for you so Caleb decides to keep an eye on you.

You hear birds chirping around you, their song drowning out Caleb’s words but not voice as he talks to you but the song is just too beautiful, it brings a smile to your face. Looking around you can see them sometimes. Colourful feathers popping against the green and the muted flashes of a sun lowering. If the sun’s going to sleep, you want to go soon too. It’s not really fair if you have to keep walking when it gets to lie down.

The colours and patterns through the leaves are very pretty though and the rays bleeding through are to die for. The world should look like this forever. It’s so beautiful, pulsing with every breath you take. No, you’re breathing with the nature around you. You get a newfound respect for Caduceus and Fjord’s Wildmom. She’s pretty cool if she’s responsible for all this. Is she responsible for all this? She gets your credit anyway.

You’re pulled to a sudden stop, or at least it feels sudden. Caleb is suddenly in front of you pulling your focus towards him and away from the chirping birds and the setting sun and the Wildmom. You’d ask Caleb to leave you alone but his gentle smile alone and warm hands on your shoulders pushing you down to sit on a tree stump call for your undivided attention in turn pulling it away from the gently blowing breeze and kaleidoscope of colours.

“You’re exhausted. Sit down and rest while we set up.” Caleb suggests and you find yourself nodding the words not entirely registering. Warm fingers press against your cheek before they pull away all too soon. The warmth leaves your body as Caleb leaves your side and the freezing cold returns. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself in an effort to preserve the heat but nothing seems to work.

You try to focus on your surroundings to distract from the icy cold, the humid jungle temperatures doing nothing to keep you warm. The crickets provide a beautiful symphony with the rustling leaves, the last of the song birds going to sleep and the awakening of the nocturnal creatures. It helps and you find yourself swaying lightly from side to side with the melody. It brings you a sense of happiness and content as well as a connection to everything around you.

You feel yourself beginning to drift when something warm and soft and a little heavy is draped across your shoulders. The warmth is similar to Caleb but not entirely the same, though you’re met with an intense smell of molasses, old books and whatever remains after a fire has turned to embers. Your eyes fall upon the dark purple material of Caleb’s coat; most of all the geometric patterns of the lining. They are enchanting and you feel like you could get lost in them.

“You’re shivering. Come. We’re all set up.” You once again allow Caleb to guide you back to your feet and pull you along to where the Nein had set up. Sitting down with you Caleb takes out his spellbook and a small crystal bead. You've always loved watching Caleb cast spells, something alluring to the practiced words and patterns. He begins to weave his hands through the air in front of him, the light sparks of magic following his fingertips as he speaks the words, what you didn’t expect to see is the trails left by the motions. You’ve never seen those before. That’s new. They’re very pretty though; a warm orange trail of embers just like him. Enamoured you stare, making no effort to hide or avert your gaze. You catch Caleb's eyes and he offers you a half smile which you dopily return continuing to watch the patterns.

You’re rudely pulled out of your trance by Caduceus offering you a bowl of food. Usually you would have jumped at the promise of food, the firbolg’s cooking is unrivalled but now the nausea comes back and your stomach twists at the smell alone. You turn to the side fighting the urge vomit and as politely as possible and decline the delicious food much to your dismay.

Caleb does accept the food he’s offered as Veth happily accepts your serving as seconds. Caleb sniffs the food expecting it to smell off somehow because of your reaction but it doesn’t. It’s as perfect as ever and you’re not one to refuse food when offered. As he begins eating you excuse yourself finding a spot where you don’t have to look at your friends consuming their food both, because of the strong smell and the look of it. While delicious the thought of the texture sends your brain in overdrive where you get an overwhelming phantom taste which only intensifies the nausea.

Finding a spot still within the dome but far enough to be comfortable you just watch the geometric patterns in the lining of Caleb’s coat. Not only do you focus on the patterns but you’re pretty sure you can count the individual threats of the fabric. The colours and contrast intense pull you in almost pervasively so.

A hand shakes your shoulder turning you to face them. It’s Caleb and he looks rather worried. The expression alone carries over to you. What’s he worried about? It’s not bad is it? Is it because of you? Oh, no maybe it is you… You’re set into a train of emotions and anxiety and when Caleb notices his expression softens but the worry does not leave.

“Hey, hey. I need you to breathe, okay? Just keep breathing.” You follow his instructions taking deep breathes and the anxiety mutes replaced by a hyper fixation on Caleb. Literally, everything around the wizard fades into the distance when he steps into your vision but you manage to force yourself to be aware of your surroundings with a lot of effort.

“Very good. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?” From over Caleb’s shoulder you see Veth stuff her mouth with the food you refused and that alone is enough to make you gag. Caleb notices and shifts to break your line of sight. Oh no, you can smell it again. You cover your mouth and nose and lean forward letting your forehead fall against his clavicle taking deep breaths of the comfy molasses, old pages and smouldering fire scent.

“I don’t know but one more sniff of food and I’ll vomit so please take mercy on me and save me from the savoury deliciousness until this nausea passes.” Caleb wraps his arms around you, one hand rubbing circles into your back while the other lightly plays with the hairs on the back of your neck to alleviate your suffering. Of course he’s trying to piece together what’s happened because you’re behaviour added up is not entirely like you. Right now his priority is making sure you're comfortable.

He keeps this going as one by one the Nein goes to sleep, Caleb and by default you taking the first watch. You don’t yet feel comfortable removing yourself from Caleb’s arms but do find a more comfortable position for the both of you to spare you the numbness of limbs.

The longer you sit around your mind starts to feel less hazy, the hyper focus lessens and your stomach calls for sustenance, the nausea fading. Luckily Caduceus had saved you some leftovers which you happily nibble on. The spices and herbs providing extra flavours are intense but no longer unwelcome or nauseating. Regardless of what caused this all, you didn’t think Caduceus’ food could taste any better but damn does it taste beyond divine. You’ve rediscovered your appetite and finish the leftovers.

While sitting in Caleb’s embrace, head on his stomach holding the book you’re both reading Caleb’s coat long since returned to him you’re feeling mentally exhausted, but your mind is at ease, as if all stress and pressure of the world around you has faded for just a moment. You’re at peace in the arms of the man you love and surrounded by your friends.

The realisation that despite all the bad you’ve gone through together it’s all been worth it a thousand times over and you wouldn’t change a thing. A yawn escapes as you turn the page, knowing Caleb will have read it several times at this point.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“You’d think with all the breaks and rest you’ve already gotten today you’d have trouble sleeping again.” Caleb recalls the times where you’ve taken breaks before and spent half of the night up getting rid of the energy just to get a moment of sleep in the more stressful days where sleep does not come easily; days like the past few have been.

“I would have but none of those times did I actually catch a break. I was nauseas for hours, everything felt and looked intense, could only focus on one thing at the time visually even though for some reason I was hyper aware of my senses.” You turn the page again as Caleb pulls you a little closer, about to press a kiss to your shoulder. He stops, retreats and instead brushes his fingers over it.

“Maybe I was just on an exhaustion or anxiety high running on my last bit of energy and now we get a moment to relax and breathe, that’s what gotten me back to earth.” Caleb doesn’t respond and when you look up at him from over your shoulder you see Caleb closely inspecting the fingers he brushed over your shoulder.

“You know, I’m beginning doubt this change of mood was induced by exhaustion.” He runs his fingers together and you see the light dust pulverise. Confused you signal for Caleb to elaborate on his train of thought because you’re still feeling a little slow.

“Remember the tumble you took into the patch of flowers and mushrooms?”

“You mean when I got my ask kicked by an oversized lizard? Yeah, hard to forget.” You grasp at your ribs as if to relief a still lasting ache from the hit of the creature’s tail. You turn around, putting the book down and sit on your knees between Caleb’s legs as things begin to fall into place for the both of you. Your landing... Oh no...

“I don’t think that dust cloud upon impact was just dust or pollen.” You throw your head back and groan. Unbelievable. Through the lasting peace and calm you feel the embarrassment peak through as well as annoyance at the whole situation.

“So you’re telling me I’ve been tripping balls for the past six or so hours?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.” Caleb states deadpanned before he breaks and laughs at you. You deserve it really. Stubbornness to admit something’s wrong is what got you so far. Should have told someone you weren’t feeling right and it definitely wasn’t exhaustion but no and it was already too late when the ‘beauty of the world’ took hold of your mind.

“Well then, take comfort that it’s not just the spores leave me completely enamoured with you.” You peck Caleb’s nose and poke his stomach to get him to quit laughing before he wakes up the others. You won’t hear the end of this that’s for damn sure so best to keep this incident between the two of you. Let the other’s believe you’re just over-exhausted.

[abeingfromnothingness]

Anthropocene

(This is a short story to help with visualizing -this- idea don't take it way too seriously. You can make your own version of the idea if you want.)

Shoutout to @marlynnofmany "accidentaly human" series for inspiring this idea

@niqhtlord01 @dycefic @starr-fall-knight-rise for their great stories which are used as inspiration

@whereartthoubromeo this is for you

And the humans are weird community here

_________________________________________

Humans, when you hear that word what do you usualy think it describes?

More often than not it describes these hairless unasuming bipeds, they naturally have no magic abilities, traits or anything noteworthy except for being sexually compatible with all races but that all changed when a human named wudolf suon made a discovery that changed how we see these dissapointing apes.

-----------------------‐---‐-------------‐---------------------------

Wudolf was like every other human in his village normal and boring except for a select few with magical potential through familial ties. His parents were magicaly potent but he himself was not, he was enroled into the best academy there by scholarships his parents paid for using money acumulated during their adventuring days with a group who saved the world, this was to help him learn magic.

Most humans were often bullied for being weak and pathetic magic casters but wudolf got the most bulliying due to the fact he has little no magic potential, so during his freetime he experimented ways to forcefully give himself magical powers or disabling it from others.

One fatefull night during one of his experiments he got into an accident thankfully or should i say unfortunately he survived and gained magic powers like he wanted though ever since that day all magical creatures that stand near him always felt slightly uneasy, to the point no one makes any friends with him except human friends, they never felt what the rest of the students described, at the end of the day he didn't care as long as he can use magic now.

Whenever wudolf tries to cast a spell it never seems to work the first time then the next day he suddenly can do it perfectly though there was something a bit off about the aura, whenever he is questioned how he did it he always replied "i don't know it just... gave itself to me i guess".

Over the course of the semester his power kept growing, the range where magical creatures felt uneasy also increases, every magic fight he entered always resulted in him winning every single time with little to no harm done to him with most magical beings attending feeling unwell and a few humans having a faint headache.

The principal suspected something strange was happening but didn't care because of wudolf helping the academy acumulate many tournament trophies, one day the principal got an anonymous tip about wudolf practicing forbiden magic with a picture of wudolf reading a mysterious book, it is suspected that the ones who sent the anonymous tip were jealous students but whoever that sent it just opened pandora's box.

Wudolf and his parents were called into the principals office one day to discuss about his dabling with the forbiden arts, of course wudolf is innocent but any mention about the dabling in forbiden arts are treated with zero tolerance.

Wudolf tries and pleads innocence but the principal doesn't bellive him after the many months of accumulated reports from many students feeling uneasy around him and only him though no human students ever complained which proves he wasn't using forbiden arts, but was ruled out for the reason that "humans have difficulty with magic" so he was kicked out and ran away into the wilderness never to be seen again.

A month has passed when suddenly a figure wearing a carved out dragon head and a cloak made of dragon skin attacked the village, a group of heroes consisting of a human mage, an elf archer, an orc barbarian, and a dragonborn paladin confronts the figure in front of them standing amongst rubble of a ruined square.

"Ah, i assume you are one of this vilage's groups of heroes am i correct?" The figure speaks though slightly muffled and distorted by the head they are wearing.

"That is correct and you should leave or else we'll strike you down even killing you if we have to." The dragonborn exclaims

"Well i should say the same way to beings such as yourselves, except you human" the figure points at the suprised mage

"What do you want from me?" The human exclaimed.

"It's pretty obvious, You and other humans"

the orc stands infront of the mage

"you no hurt little buddy!"

The figure laughs "hurt? Oh no no no, let's just say 'under my care' it's not like orcs such as you can show kindness, the only thing you know is being a big brutish pushover who values an ally by stength so let me place us at an even footing" with a snap of a finger the orc suddenly collapses on to their back

"Gear. Too. Heavy."

"What did you do!?" The paladin shouted getting the attention of the figure "i already told you what i did, i placed us in an even footing, i made them 'human' so to speak"

the group turns to the orc waiting for some sort of transformation to happen but nothing happened.

"I don't know what you did but i will shoot you down from your mountain!" The elf taunts preparing a shot

"Granny, stop being mad, else you'll wither away faster, here let me help you take a well deserved break from this adventuring buisness." With another snap the elf expected to suddenly feel heavier which is why they aimed higher than usual, what waited for them was something else other than an increase in weight.

Their hair starts to grey, their vision starts to blur, their limbs slowly feel weak, the arrow that was fired was deflected effortlessly by the sturdy dragon scales of the figure's cloak.

"Your gravity and aging magic won't work on me, prepare to be brought justice." The dragonborn paladin exclaimed triumphantly

"Justice? Ha, after your kind's scally egotistical reign on many other regions especialy what one of you kept on doing to me and my friends during my student years, i'd beg to differ. let me serve you your just deserts master." The paladin prepares a breath attack but with a snap the dragonborn suddenly falls on their knee puking with their scales turning pale.

The figure looms menacingly "how the mighty have fallen. You know, your reaction reminded me of a dragon that i encountered, you all are wondering why suddenly there seems to be little to no dragon sightings?" What the figure says is true, for whatever reason no dragons have shown up for the past few weeks eventhough this area is known for many dragons in hiding, this never happened until a certain scholar was expeled and was never seen again.

"Let's just say i returned a long overdue debt. Of course i am not an idiot so i cut some loose ends one being a problem now and four more in the future, how did you think i got this attire, and survived?"

"You...monster" the dragonborn replies through their nausea

"A monster huh? how ironic especialy coming from a cousin of the species that did so without care to us lesser species." "Fireball!" The mage casts a spell which quickly dissipates instantly a feet away from the figure, the remaining heat catches the figure's attention "pathetic, now, time to deal with you my buddy ol'pal marcus." Marcus taken aback "w-wudolf!?"

Wudolf raises the ex-hatchling's maw revealing a familiar face with a very noticable change. "Hello marcus, it has been a while huh?"

Marcus draws in magic to prepare a spell "Look, whatever malicious god or being that is passively controling you, i will save you even if it results in any of our deaths."

Wudolf laughs "a malicious entity is that your conclusion of what happened to me?" Marcus nods in confirmation. "Well i can't blame you due to it being a common occurence to people like me and the fact that i was expeled due to being accused of such things, but allow me to show you OUR power." Marcus tries to cast a spell but nothing happened and he was then hit by a powerful force sending him flying into a wall, marcus tries again...nothing happened and he was hit by a blast sending him to the ground, he is starting to have a headaches. Wudolf prepares a large spear made off whatever magic he is using and throws it. Frusturated marcus tries and block it, and succedes creating a shield with the same magic wudolf is using, he falls down fatigued. "What was that i just did!?" Marcus stared at his hand in awe of what he has done, so does his teamates.

Wudolf stands there satisfied "i already told you, it is OUR power. Let me ask you a question." Wudolf summons ropes to bind each hero down. "Have you wondered what makes an art forbiden?"

Marcus was about to answer. "Don't worry i know what you'll answer and yes with the same reason of it being a common occurence but maybe, it is to stop instances of overpowering." "What do you mean by that?"

Wudolf smiles a little and starts walking around "well remember that day when i got into an accident?" Marcus nods remembering that day clearly. "when i recovered, i suddenly have the abillity to cast magic which was slowly growing more powerful with a side effect at the time i brushed of as miniscule. I then became our academy's champion winning several magic tournanent throphies which are null and void by now considering what happened last month. Did you ever notice how weird that after my 5th win in a row i was suddenly accused of practicing the forbiden arts which was treated with instant expultion?" Marcus pipes up "well yeah and we even found the sender of the annonymous tip who was a half-dragon that was jealous of you and used your weird unsetling aura as proof of forbiden magic possesion. So yeah i feel really sorry for you." "I can understand that too. Anyway, during my time out there i practiced my new found magic to find out what element it is and maybe who it was bestowed to me. Well the answer is very suprising, it's nothing and it is in fact OUR own natural magic."

Marcus wide eyed in shock "you are telling me that we were supposed to have our own magic abilities and what do you mean by it's nothing? It's magic, it's got to be something." Wudolf turns sharply to face Marcus "That's the thing, our magic comes from absolute nothing though now it's more of a something that is revealed within the absence of natural magic. With this knowledge i posses and now you too, i will bring our kind the justice we all deserve after many years living under fear of these creatures. I will create a world where they can never hurt us, one way or another, a libberation of you will."

Marcus finally has the strength to stand up "dude, i know your intention and it is a good one, but there's got to be a better way than a mass genocide, we can still live with each other side by side and yes we may be feared of but still, it is way better than extermination. You probably know this, so have a little bit of humani-" a large spike of energy pierces marcus' stomach sending him to a critical condition, this is followed by ropes of energy binding him. "You still don't get it do you. Maybe i need a larger example and suprisingly, (Wudolf creates an extra dimensional portal and pulls out a modified trumpet bearing a flag of a kingdom.) I do." He blows into it and a large portal appears that leads to the front of a kingdom "my own design if you are wondering." standing behind them is a king with an army of people from various ages standing behind them, far off behind them there seems to be a walled of kingdom with the wall having visible signs of damage as well as a huge area that was lost. From the wide and deep claw marks covering the wall to the massive bloodstain it is safe to assume that a massive creature had attacked not too long ago. Wudolf aproaches the king "ah mister wudolf let me guess, your friend?" The king says to him in a casual manner. "Yes though now more of an obstacle. Really hoped for them to join our cause." The king chuckles "happens to most of us. Well then, it is time for us to do a full sweep to recruit soldiers and exterminate these pests. It's funny how one day we were the most pathetic race to ever existed and then the next, eldritch monsters capable of crippling massive beasts with a glare." They both laugh at the thought while men and women storm the village.

-----‐-‐-----------------------------------------------------------

This was several years ago and since that time we started the rebelion, many creatures against these humans now called as (homo sapinihilis) courtesy of our (homo sapien) friends.

We also discovered these mushrooms that create a zone of replenishing mana which allows us access to magic while engaging those things.

We have reports of from our scouts that the "nihilistums" are developing a bomb to wipe everyone from existance.

Now it is your job to stop them, don't worry we have an adventuring group ready for you

[warrioreowynofrohan]

The Lord of the Rings as a Sequel to The Silmarillion (Part 1)

In one of his letters, Tolkien writes, “it is not really a sequel to The Hobbit, but to The Silmarillion.” I think it would be interesting to go through The Silmarillion and try to piece together the different ways in which The Lord of the Rings can be considered as a sequel to it, in terms of themes, motifs, characters, and plot elements.

But when I start at the beginning of the major events of the core Silmarillion, with the Return of the Noldor, the first pattern I find is The Hobbit as a Sequel to The Silmarillion.

Some of the similarities between the works are already thoroughly observered and discussed within the fandom: setting out on a quest against a dangerous, evil enemy with the aim both of taking vengeance for the death of family and recovering stolen treasure. Thorin and Fëanor likewise have. lear similarities, in pride, determination, self-will, and ultimately an obsession with a particular treasure that overpowers all other goals. And The Hobbit comes very close to a kinslaying at the end! I do not think the Arkenstone is a Silmaril; I think that Tolkien had the general concepts around The Silmarillion in his head, though, when he wrote The Hobbit, and presented some similar ideas there in a different form.

What really strikes me about the resemblances, though, is one key difference. In The Silmarillion, the Valar seek to dissuade Fëanor from pursuing Morgoth, from returning to Middle-earth in a quest for vengeance and lost treasure. In The Hobbit (or rather, as later described by Tolkien in Unfinished Tales), Gandalf - as near as one can get in Third Age Middle-earth to a representative of the Valar, and enturely familiar with the events of the First Age - actively encourages Thorin on his quest against Smaug:

Gandalf: I soon understood that [Thorin’s] heart was hot with brooding on his wrongs, and the loss of the treasure of his forefathers, and burdened too with the duty of revenge upon Smaug that he had inherited. Dwarves take such duties very seriously. [This too is quite Fëanorian - at Fëanor’s death “he laid it upon his sons to avenge their father”.] I promised to help him if I could. I was as eager as he was to see the end of Smaug. [Gandalf was concerned with the possibility of Sauron using Smaug against Rivendell.]

Gandalf advises Thorin - rather vehemently - on methods (a secret mission rather than open war), but he is very much in favour of the Quest. This support is in spite of his understanding of the danger presented by Thorin’s character flaws: “Curb your pride and your greed, or you will fall at the end of whatever path you take, though your hands be full of gold.”

This difference between the Valar and Gandalf, when confronted with a prideful, headstrong individual determined to take on a foe well out of his weight class in a quest for vengeance and treasure, strikes me as quite crucial:

The Valar: Absolutely don’t do that, it’s going to be a disaster and you have no chance of success. We won’t get in your way, but we think it’s a terrible idea.

Fëanor: Yeah, well, screw you, at least I’m not doing nothing, and I’m tougher than you think.

———-

Gandalf: Yes, go for it, I’ll help if I can. Take along this hobbit.

Thorin:…He seems pretty useless.

Gandalf: It is critically important that you take along this hobbit, and you’ll get no help from me if you don’t.

Thorin:…Fine. You’re coming along to babysit him, though.

The Third Age is after Valinor has been removed from the Circles of the World, when the Powers (or their representatives, like Gandalf) need to work with the Children of Ilúvatar, not on their behalf. Gandalf has no choice but to take risks, because he lacks the ability to fix everything by himself; that is, really, the very point of the Istari, that they are there to guide and support rather than to fix everything.

And the risk he takes here is a terrible one, and it very nearly goes terribly wrong. If not for the sudden arrival of an army of Orcs at the Lonely Mountain, it is very possible that his encouragement of the Quest would have resulted in the first Kinslaying (if we’re going to count a battle between broadly anti-Sauron Elves, Dwarves, and Men as a Kinslaying, which I do) in several thousand years. And he knows that Thorin has the kind of character flaws that make this dangerous - he tells Thorin so! And he knows about the Arkenstone. From one perspective, he’s gambling not just with the lives of Thorin & Company, but with Thorin’s soul. (I think this would be Elrond’s perspective, due to having had a front-row seat in the First Age to just how badly such things can go, and I imagine that the whole incident resulted in probably the most heated discussion/argument that Gandalf and Elrond ever had, after Gandalf and Bilbo got back to Rivendell. I don’t think Elrond had, necessarily, all the same context on the Quest and on Thorin’s personality as Gandalf did when Thorin & Co stopped at Rivendell.) From another perspective, Gandalf is respecting Thorin’s free will and the decision that Thorin has already made to go after Smaug, and is doing his best to provide advice and help to improve the chances that things go well. But there are no guarantees that things will go right.

[girlwholovesturtles]

I genuinely do hate to be a curmudgeon about the final because I desperately wanted it to be as great as I thought the first campaign’s final was but I just can’t help but find it lacking in a lot of ways. Honestly, I actually had to go on an hour long walk just to try to clear up how I was feeling on all of this and I’m still pretty conflicted.

Obviously I’m not gonna go messaging the cast about everything I thought was “wrong” with the final, I just want to vent my thoughts. If you think I’m wrong and that the final was fine then by all means ignore this post, this is just me giving my thoughts.

First and foremost, I get what Taliesin was trying to do with Molly. I’m sure the way he saw it, Molly was gone and wasn’t meant to come back. I can imagine this might have been his original idea for Molly, if ever he died in the campaign he would come back as totally new person, which would keep the rest of the M9 inclined to keep him from dying. And if it was, I find that very interesting and would have loved to see more of that but this was the final the M9 did so much to get Molly back and Kingley simply isn’t him. I’m sad that Molly didn’t come back and it’s hard to like Kingley when I know he’s replaced him.

Beau and Yasha’s endings were good. I’m glad Beau was done right by the Cobalt Soul and I’m glad Yasha got to bring Zuala the flowers she’d been collecting the entire campaign. If there’s one complaint I have to make, it’s that I wish we could have explored this part of Yasha more. This was her whole backstory and we may never get to know more about it, only that she killed the former leader of the tribe and is feared/hated by the tribe. As for Beau, she gets a little closure with her dad but I wish there would have been something about going to see her mom and little brother while her dad was in jail, if only to see them while he wasn’t looming in the background.

Fjord gets to go back to the sea and find his mentor and I’m happy for him, meanwhile Jester... just sorta comes with him. Like, yeah, she has her last talks with her parents and Artagan but she didn’t get to do much of her own thing. She road off into the sunset with Fjord and that’s really it. Not even a “well obviously we get married” kind of joke that I can recall. Laura’s even said before that she doesn’t like when fandom acts like her character’s only purpose is to be in a relationship with one character or another, so it just feels wrong that Jester’s whole ending seems to be following Fjord where ever he feels like going.

I’m a bit sad that Cad went out into the world and saw everything it had to offer and then decided that he was just gonna go back to the Grove and spend the next several decades there and never even think of leaving. It’s as though he went out into the world and truly saw nothing worth seeing more of. I could understand missing home and spending a few years there but decades, never feeling any form of wanderlust after seeing all sort of things that he never could have experienced in the Grove. Like, I know his character grew as a person but you could be forgive for mistaking him going home and deciding to never leave again to seem kinda like he’s reverted right back to the man who used to think he’d be in the Grove his entire life. I don’t know, it just feels kinda wrong.

Veth’s ending makes the most sense out of all of them. Again, I’m sad because we didn’t really get a lot of info about what she’d be doing next. Her and Yeza settle down on the coast, open an alchemy shop, and raise Luc. It seems almost too obvious that this would be how her story would end but that’s because we’ve known it’s been coming for months now. Veth has struggled with her want to be with her family and be with the Nein, this is literally the only end that makes sense for her character and I’m glad she got her happy ending.

And then there’s Caleb.

I’ve known for a while that Caleb wouldn’t be allowed to have a happy ending for two reason: 1. All his his love interests were either in love with someone else or war criminals, and more importantly 2. Even after all the good he’s done, he still doesn’t love himself enough to realize he deserves a happy ending.

There was a possibility for Caleb and Essek to share a happy ending. I think Caleb could have convinced him to come back to the Empire to uproot the corruption that still exists in the government. I know Essek was afraid of being caught but Caleb could have used his Transmogrification spell on him and helped him escape to a new life. Yes, I’m certain he had some form of pride in being a drow but it’s already canon that he ultimately had to go into hiding and was forced to wear illusions constantly for his own protection. Transformation or illusion, Essek can never truly be himself anymore and now he can’t even be with Caleb.

As for the “Caleb will be an old man and Essek will be Essek,” that part genuinely annoys me. Orcs rarely live to see the age of 80 while Tieflings can live to be roughly 150 years old, you don’t see Jester and Fjord deciding that they can’t be together because Jester could potentially live twice as long as Fjord. It just feels like sort of a garbage excuse to make Caleb’s end a little bit sadder.

Last bit about Caleb, being that he never does what he set out to do and ends up as a teacher in the very establishment that tortured him and ruined his life. He doesn’t stop the corruption in the Empire, by all accounts they took out Trent Ikithon and then just sorta fucked off to do their own things. Like, I know Veth and Cad were set to go home but I feel like the other should have stuck together long enough to see the corruption uprooted. It’s been their mantra for at least a year out of game, take down the corruption in the Empire, but as long as the Cerberus Assembly exists there will be corruption in the Empire.

Yes, in uncovering and stopping Lucien’s plans, they uncovered something quite a bit bigger then just the corruption in the Empire but that doesn’t mean those troubles disappear now that Aeor is no longer a threat to them.

There are a lot of little things that still frustrate me; story lines that were never properly wrapped up, characters that were never revisited. Maybe I’m just sad to see it all go but it just felt like a lot of the story simply wasn’t over even though the campaign is.

[babygirlkiki1016]

Masterlist

Chapter 1: The company

Chapter 2: The Journey Begins

I pulled the rope, fastening my bag to one of the ponies. I didn't speak to anyone the next morning, besides no one was going to try to talk to me anyway. The company would only speak to their kin, and as I passed by heading to the front of the line I was given dirty looks. Except for Kili, he smiled and waved but his brother shoved his arm down, scolding him for even looking my way. I sighed and walked past some more dwarves, and each scowl gave me a funny feeling in my heart. I couldn't understand what it was, but it hurt deeply, like knives to my soul.

"Y/n." Gandalf greeted me with a smile, letting me pass by. "Once we're out of the shire, you will scout ahead and report anything back to us." He leaned down slightly, so I could only hear. "We're also making a bet on if Bilbo is coming, wish to participate?" I looked towards the rest, they all seemed to be having fun. The talk of the Hobbit showing up again brought them entertainment.

"No, we're heading into a dark path Gandalf. If I were to partake in their silly affairs I'd only ruin the fun." He groaned, standing up straight to get on his horse.

"You know, it won't hurt to have a little bit of fun. You'll be riding with Thorin, for now, being in the front will give you the advantage to take in your surroundings." He was right, in the front of the line I would be able to listen to the woods, there was something dark out there. Something will be following us, I don't know what, but whatever it is it's not good.

"Are you sure he's alright with the idea of me riding with him?" He grimaced at the question, I should have figured Thorin wasn't going to accept it.

"He's not happy, just don't antagonize him and you'll be alright." My very presence puts him on edge, speaking of the devil he came up behind me with those blue orbs piercing into mine. He didn't say a word to me, he just climbed onto his pony looking ahead. Hesitantly I go to climb on but his hand stretched out, he was waiting for me to take it.

"Hurry up we don't have all day." He growled, quickly I pulled myself on and sat in front of him. I gasped at his warmth, it felt nice with his chest against my back. "Lead." His gruff voice made me shiver, I kicked the pony lightly and she went off. We made our way down the path, passing multiple Hobbits that were nearby. One was a child, a small girl about half the size of me. She waved with a wide grin, I couldn't help but wave back eagerly. It's been a while since I've seen children, my kind barely has any men around. The cold blast killed most of our soldiers who were men, so not a lot of children are born these days. Let's just hope those reports will save my people, and we can have a fresh start with alliances. "So, does all of your kind have wings like yours?" His question surprised me, he wanted to know more about my kin? Why? Was he planning for war?

"Why do you want to know? Are you planning to kill us all already?"

"I am just curious about your race, I haven't heard much about it. From the tales my grandfather and father told me, most don't have wings unless they're born with it."

"Hm." I knew all about their race, and the fact that he wanted to know more about mine intrigued me. "Some have wings, it depends on if you have a certain gene in your blood."

"How big is your homeland?"

"It was huge, bigger than the city of Erebor. Yet where we live now, is small considering your kind took our home." I snarled, he took a deep breath, probably to calm himself. His hands then gripped my cloak, and he pulled me against his chest roughly.

"I suggest you don't annoy me, for I won't be responsible for what happens to you on this trip." He was threatening me, I bet if we were attacked he'd leave me for dead.

"And I suggest you let go of me, I won't kill you but I think you'll be fine with a few fingers missing." I turned my head to face him, he was extremely close, our noses almost touching. Reluctantly he leaned back slightly, releasing me from his hold.

"I can't wait to reclaim my homeland, then I'll have you out of my sight. I won't have to deal with your kind anymore, your murderers. I don't know what Gandalf was thinking."

"He was thinking, that your weak, too weak to take down a dragon. If you want me to help you, I recommend you be friendly for I can easily leave you behind. I'll find a way into that mountain myself, so watch your words Thorin Oakenshield." He went to protest but was interrupted by shouting, it was Bilbo running from the entrance of the shire. We were in the middle of the woods now, I pull on the reigns to stop from going any further. Bilbo ran towards us, waving the contract in his hand, panting heavily.

"I signed it." He exclaims, panting heavily as he handed the contract to Balin. Balin pulls out a monocle to check the paper. It looked like Bilbo had brought everything from home with him.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." Balin smiles, and surprisingly it didn't disappear when his eyes met mine. The warm smile made me happy, didn't he hear the rumors people had spread about my kind? Why was he so nice to me?

"Give him a pony," Thorin ordered, nudging me to keep going which I obey.

"No, no, no, no. That-That won’t be necessary. Thank you. I’m sure I can keep up on foot. Yeah, I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frog Morton once." Bilbo refuses, but they didn't listen to his cries. Suddenly two of the dwarves grab hold of his arms, pick him up, and placed him directly on Minty. As we all rode along in the woods, I could hear the dwarves talking to each other.

"Come on, Nori! Pay up!" Oin demanded, the sound of coins clinking together reached my ears.

"The rest of the dwarves took gambles on if Mr. Baggins would show," Thorin explained, however, I already knew this due to Gandalf.

"What about you Thorin? Did you participate?" I said looking at him, he shook his head laughing slightly.

"I don't participate in silly affairs, though if I did I would've guessed he wouldn't have come." I can see how that's true, sometimes people just don't want to leave home. They'd rather stay in their safe comfy beds, and I was one of them. "You seem deep in thought." My cheeks turned red as I realized I had been staring at him the entire time.

"I'm alright." Clearing my throat awkwardly only to hear Bilbo shouting about something else.

"Uh-wait, wait. Stop! Stop! We have to turn around." Thorin groaned and I slowed the pony down, waiting to hear Bilbo's excuse.

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf wondered, he was riding a larger horse than the rest of us.

"I forgot my handkerchief." We can't just stop and go back because of some handkerchief, it would only be a waste of time.

"Here! Use this." Bofur rips off a bit of cloth from his robe and throws it to Bilbo, who looks at it with disgust.

"Move on!" Thorin announces, and I continue down the path of our journey. Later that night, we stopped by the entrance of a small cave. I slept close to the edge of the entrance, my wings keeping me warm and hidden from the others. That's when I heard shuffling behind me, it was Thorin setting down his sleeping bag.

"Did you miss me already?" I joked, making him roll his eyes annoyed.

"One of us has to watch you, you might try and kill us in our sleep." I just turned back around, curling back up into a small ball. It was colder outside than I expected, I should've brought warmer clothes. I shivered as a gust of wind blew our way, it took a while for me to fall asleep. The cold wasn't helping me at all, but I finally managed to sleep into unconsciousness. That is until I woke up to howls, not just any normal howls, wargs. I sat up, searching the area, getting ready to strike if I had to. The orcs were far off into the distance but I saw them, I could feel the evilness radiating off of them.

"You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Thorin yelled making me turn to him, he stood up abruptly, his fur coat missing. That's when I realized it was on me, he had laid his coat on me to keep me warm but why? What was his reason for being kind to me?

"We didn’t mean anything by it," Kili stated, looking down at the ground in shame.

"No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world." Thorin angrily walks off, I had an urge to go try and cheer him up. He did give me his coat, after all, I could at least do something nice. Slowly I made my way over to him, he hadn't sensed my presence yet.

"Thorin?" I called letting out a small yawn. He didn't face me, instead, he kept his gaze pit on the horizon.

"Go away." He ordered but I refused to listen, my feet made their way next to him. He scowled at me, but said nothing else, he only just crossed his arms. His hand caught my attention, it was bigger than most, his fingers were twice the size of mine. Without thinking I tugged on it, making his eyes avert to me. I placed my hand against him, comparing the sizes. "Y/n?" He mutters, wondering what I was up to.

"Your hands, they're so much bigger than mine. For such tiny men, you certainly have large fingers, it's fascinating." I looked up at him, his eyes widened at my comment. "You know as a child I used to wonder what the tiny men of our world looked like, I tried to learn everything about dwarves that I could. My kingdom's library had multiple books about your culture, I have to admit it was interesting to learn about your courting styles."

"You know of our courting ritual?"

"Of course, I know everything about each race. I was a very strange child at that age, yet one question remained unanswered. Why do dwarves keep their hair long?" He smiled at my curiosity, those deep blue ocean eyes stared at me in adoration. Though those furious eyes returned, and he angrily pulled his hand away.

"You shouldn't be asking questions about courting, it's not as if anyone would marry your kind anyway." He lifted his hand, glaring at it in disgust. "Now I have to wash away the filth you have spread upon me." My heart broke a little as if a piece had shred from the flesh. As he stormed off I wondered what ran through his mind, he was the sweet innocent man a few seconds ago. What made him irritated with me? Thorin went back to the place we had been sleeping, and he grabbed his cloak moving to the other side of the camp. Each dwarf turned their head my way, and only three of them grinned at me.

"I'll keep watch," I spoke as I returned to my make-shift bed. It would be better if I stayed away from the others, at least that's not what Kili thought. Cause a few seconds later he plopped down right next to me. "What are you doing? Won't the others scold you for sitting next to me?"

"Who cares, they can argue all they want. No one should be alone, I'll keep watch with you." My heart swelled at his kindness, why was he being so nice to me? Did he believe me than those foolish rumors the others had heard? He frowned slightly, he was serious now. "Are you ok Y/n?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be? I've dealt with stubborn dwarves before believe me. Their rudeness hardly bothers me anymore." I lied, staring down at my hands. How could this world think such cruel thoughts about my kind, why did Thror have to lie about us? Kili placed his hand on mine to try and calm me, and lightly he caressed it with his thumb.

"You know not all of us hate you, me, Balin, and my brother Fili we know the truth. I told my brother what you told me, and he sort of believes it. You don't seem like the angry ravaging digonisks we've heard about, and besides the reports in those mountains is evidence that your kin is innocent. Speaking of Balin however, he wanted me to tell you that when you get a chance he wishes to speak with you." I glanced over the white-haired dwarf who gave me a small smile. I wonder what he wants to talk to me about? Maybe his politeness was just a ruse to kill me in secret, what if Kili is doing the same? Ever since I've joined the company I haven't thought of the consequences, I treat them as if they're normal men. I have to be more careful if I am to get to the mountain. "You know you should probably get some sleep, we'll need those wings again."

"No, they're orcs not far, they're watching us. I need to be awake just in case they decide to come our way. I appreciate the gesture, sleep Kili, you and your kin are the most important people here after all." He opened his mouth to protest, but kept quiet and snuggled up in his bed. I kept my eyes on the frontier, watching as the orcs scattered away but I knew they would be back, they always come back.

~��♠♪~

The harsh wind blasted against me, the building fell apart from the ice that covered the bricks. Shouts were heard from all over, but the only I could focus on was my mother's. My legs hurt bad, but her condition was worse, there was an ice shard in her side. It no longer looked like liquid water, instead, it was nothing but a melting ice block of blood.

"Mommy!" I reached out for her, my hand reaching out to try and save her from the man that stood close. His sword was raised ready to strike, and that's when I saw his face. Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of our company.

"Die filth!" His sword came crashing down hard, and as it decapitated her head I shot up. My chest beating fast, it was just a dream, just a dream. Most dwarves were asleep, the only one awake was Kili who was taking over my shift. I had fallen asleep, how could have been so stupid? He could've hurt me, or worse slaughtered me like the rest of my family. My body trembled as he came close to me, worry showing in his brown eyes.

"Kili stay back!" I warned, he raised his hands as a symbol of peace.

"I won't hurt you, I promise...are you alright?" I was shaking violently, and it wasn't because of the wind that blew our way. "Are you cold? Here." He sheds his cloak going to hand it to me but I shake my head.

"N-Nightmare." That was all I managed to get out, he dropped the piece of clothing on the floor and slowly made his way over showing that he had no weapons. When he was close enough he wrapped his arms around me, making me gasp. I didn't hug back, for I was waiting for any sign that this wasn't a nice gesture. It didn't come, he just pulled me closer, and I have to admit the hug was very helpful. I listened to his breathing, and eventually, it helped my heart stop beating at a rapid speed. He smelled of sweat and pine wood, surprisingly it was a soothing smell.

"Want to talk about it?" He whispered, pulling back to look at me as his thumb rubbed softly against my skin as a way to calm me down.

"No, it was just a silly dream. It's not as if you would care anyhow."

"I do care, and just in case another agonizing fantasy comes across your mind I'll sit right here. So if you do have another nightmare I'll be here to help." He gently pulled me into his side, which I hesitantly accepted, and soon I went senseless, succumbing to the darkness.

For the next few days when I wasn't flying above them to keep watch, I rode with Thorin. The more we rode together, the more he didn't mind it. Soon it was like second nature to him, and every morning when it was time to leave he would hold out his hand to help me on the pony. Although he was extra grumpy today as we continued our journey in the woods while riding in the torrential rain.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf? Can’t you do something about this deluge?" Dori begged, but to no avail, nothing could be done. Well at least for them, considering I was a dragon slayer and immune to fire. One of my abilities was magic, and that magic included creating ablaze. I felt Thorin shiver from behind me, and I felt bad. I never did thank him for letting me use his cloak the other night.

"Thorin take the reigns," I ordered, turning around on the horse, immediately he grabbed the reigns as I let go.

"What on earth do you think your doing woman?" He growled, his eyes piercing into my own. Resting a hand upon his chest, he blushed slightly at the contact I used just a little bit of my charms to summon some heat. "What curse are you putting on me? Get your filthy hands off of me!"

"It's not a curse, it's a spell to keep you warm you ass. Now hold still or I just might burn you." He growled and lifted his head to try and see in front of him, I wasn't that tall. After a few seconds of straining his neck to see, he eventually rested his chin on the top of my head lightly. "I'm not your headrest you know."

"Well, I can't see around your thick skull."

"It's not that big! I'm shorter than you!"

"Shorter, but your head is certainly wider. Are you sure you have a brain in there?" I burned him slightly, making him wince.

"Keep talking 'Oh great one' and see where it gets you. Your lucky I'm even giving you warmth, I could just keep it all to myself." I returned the heat to normal and leaned my head on his chest. His breathing went rigid for a second, then slowed down but his heartbeat sped up.

"...What other powers do you have?" He asked, moving closer to my hand to get warmer. I slipped it down to his side, making him jump. "Watch it."

"Other than fire, I have a vast amount of strength. I could rip a tree out of the ground, second I can fly at fast speeds while spreading my wings. Soldiers with wings are called our airborne army, they attack from above and can kill dragons a lot easier. Last but not least, only the royal line can take on the form of a dragon. At least we used to, The Power of The Black Dragon was lost long ago. It is passed down from generation to generation, but the Queen with the ability died along with it." My mother, just a year before my coronation to take on my birthright was gravely injured from the frozen blast caused by men. She passed away, I never got to tell her that I loved her. The last thing I ever said to her was 'I'm scared'. Though I will never forget her last words, 'don't take revenge.'

"How many more are there?"

"Once there were millions of us, and now because of people like you, there is only 1,000. I hope your happy, cause soon we'll be extinct."

"No, cause soon you'll get those reports. And you'll show the world the mistake we caused." He whispered, his comment made my heart swoon. Had he said what I thought he had confessed?

"Thank you." It was all I could say, I felt him smile as he wrapped his arms tightly around me. He was trying to keep me warm like I was doing to him, perhaps he's not like the monster from my dreams.

@fili-is-my-lover @kirenia15 @lunariasilver @depressedchilipepper

[supercantaloupe]

@dimension20alphabet​ prompt fill #6: Flowers

title: A Little Fall of Rain - campaign: Fantasy High: Sophomore Year - 1882 words - set post-fysy

Aelwyn learns a new way to grow.

The window of the wizards’ tower overlooks the backyard of Mordred Manor. 

There’s a small graveyard plot, its grass overgrown. There are a few trees, as old and strange and history-filled as the rest of the house. There’s a hill that gently slopes down to the edge of the woods, a short walk into which you’ll reach a creek. But you can’t see that from the window; just the hill and the trees and the messy grass.

Aelwyn spends a lot of her time looking at that yard, when she’s home-where-it-does-not-feel-like-home. Plain and drab and sad. Her sister and her friends go to school and the adults go to work, but Aelwyn spends most days home alone. She can hardly stand to look at that empty yard for another second.

So, she decides she won’t.

She goes to the library one day, and spends hours browsing the shelves and reading, taking notes. She comes home in the evening when the library closes with a stack full of books, and stays up late reading them in bed while her sister trances in the bunk below. The next day she scours the garage and basement and storage of the manor for tools, anything she can scrounge together. She gathers them out back in preparation, leaning them against the wall outside. The next day, she goes out again, borrowing cash from Jawbone to get the items she’s missing. She thinks about stopping by the mall, too, for the right outfit, but Sandra Lynn catches on and gives her an old pair of boots and overalls for free.

The next day, she gets up early, and gets to work. 

The first few days are nothing but digging, ripping up grass and sprinkling fertilizer and turning the soil until there are new, neatly defined beds outlining the house and the yard, blank canvases.

She loses two days to a spring thunderstorm, one raining her out all day and one sunny but swamped with mud, setting her progress back at least a few more days. She feels like tearing her hair out, and throws a trowel across the yard in frustration. 

She comes back the next day, pulls the trowel out of the ground from where it’d stuck, and gets back to work. She spends hours one day lining the beds with rocks to keep them neat and pretty, and checking the levels of soil temperature, nutrient balance, everything. She makes a chart in her notebook, portioning out where everything will go. 

The next day she spends ten straight hours planting. Her only break, around noon, is when Jawbone comes out and brings her a sandwich and a lemonade and practically begs her to take a rest. She obliges, if only to quiet the distracting growl of her stomach. He has to come back out and drag her in when the sun goes down for dinner, despite her protests. When she washes up to eat, it takes her two minutes of scrubbing to remove the dirt stubbornly caked into her fingernails. 

If there’s anything good to come out of being an unemployed, out-of-school teenager slowly and painfully rebuilding herself from trauma, it’s that Aelwyn has a lot of free time. Free time she spends every day out under the sun in her new garden, planting seeds and sprouts and monitoring their progress, new greens popping up row by row. She covers the beds with mulch and straw to protect their roots, just like the books say to do. She waters them every morning, and curses when the rain comes and renders her work redundant. Her delicate elven skin starts to burn in the sunlight, even after she takes to wearing a wide-brimmed hat, but after so long it just starts to tan instead. Now when she washes in the evening she sees someone her parents would have hated – face sweaty and flushed, hands caked in dirt and callouses from work – and it feels good, in a strange way. There is a satisfaction in going to bed each night, climbing up onto the top bunk and collapsing in the pillows with the deep-set, satisfied exhaustion of hard work in her bones. 

Her garden starts out well enough, neatly arranged and manicured and ready to go. Then days pass, and weeks, and there is not much more to show. Nor is there enough new work to sustain her breakneck pace. Aelwyn stares out the window of the wizards’ tower and grows restless and frustrated again. She’s doing everything right. She’s double checked every book in the library about it. Why aren’t they growing? Why isn’t it perfect?

The manor’s inhabitants have long since figured out Aelwyn’s project, and her dedication to it, and they respect it. They don’t bother her when she’s working and they don’t offer to help, an interference. But visitors don’t always get that so intrinsically, and the Bad Kids have a lot of friends. There are the girls who live here, and then their male partymates, and occasionally other guests. The half-orc brings a satyr girlfriend along often, most times he visits.

“I like your garden,” she says. Aelwyn is sitting on the back porch, staring broodily over her stunted plants. She glances over her shoulder at the satyr unkindly, she who has broken the unspoken rule against disturbing her in her yard.

Aelwyn grunts and turns back, scowling. “I don’t.”

“O-oh,” Zelda says nervously. “I’m sorry, that was stupid. It’s, um, it’s just…fine?” she stammers to correct herself.

Aelwyn huffs. “They won’t grow properly. I’ve done everything right.” She gestures in frustration at the neat rows of plants, manicured but underwhelming. 

“Some people, uh, some people just don’t have a green thumb,” Zelda says. “I mean, like, satyrs are supposed to be, like, really in touch with nature and stuff, right? But I can’t even keep a fern alive in my room, it’s like, crazy,” she continues. Aelwyn grunts again. “Have you tried talking to a druid?” Zelda continues. “They’re supposed to, like, know a lot about plants, right?”

“I don’t know any druids,” Aelwyn says bluntly. She’s talked to Sandra Lynn; a ranger is as close as she can get, but Sandra Lynn doesn’t know any more about gardening than Aelwyn does.

“I could ask Danielle for you?” Zelda offers. Aelwyn turns again and looks at her, confused. “Danielle Barkstock. She’s, uh, my party’s druid.”

“Danielle Barkstock,” Aelwyn repeats, placing the name. “She was one of those girls in the crystals.”

“Um,” Zelda says. “Yeah. Um. We all were. Uh…we formed an adventuring party together after…that.”

Aelwyn laughs once, no humor to it. “I’m sure she would love to help me out with my pathetic little shithole here.”

“I could ask her for you,” Zelda repeats, sounding intensely nervous again. “I don’t have to tell her it’s for you.” Aelwyn looks her over again. “Sorry, it’s a crazy, stupid idea, I’m just…ignore me, haha, it’s stupid–”

“Would you?” Aelwyn cuts her off, sounding uncharacteristically soft. Zelda blinks, then nods.

A few days later, all the Bad Kids and all the Maidens are over at the manor for a party. Aelwyn pointedly stays out of the way, spending the afternoon in her garden. She hears the back porch door slide open and looks back to see who’s there. Zelda, and a half-elven girl with flowers braided into her hair. Actually, there’s a third with them: a small silver fox. 

“You must be Aelwyn,” the half-elf says.

“You must be Danielle,” Aelwyn returns coolly. Danielle descends the porch steps and wanders through the garden, observing Aelwyn’s work silently. Aelwyn waits, kneeling in the dirt, for any kind of feedback. “You’re a druid, then?” Aelwyn says, breaking the awkward silence. Danielle nods. Her fox wanders between the plants, sniffing them as it goes. “You know what’s wrong here, then? Why they won’t grow?”

“I know more about animals than plants,” Danielle responds neutrally. Aelwyn shuts up and looks down. “But I think I have an idea here,” she continues, finally looking at Aelwyn. She turns around and meets her gaze, hopeful if restrained. “It’s too perfect. You have to step back and let them grow on their own for a bit.”

Aelwyn’s brow furrows, confused. “I’m doing everything the gardening books say to do.”

“Then stop reading books,” Danielle says simply. “Plants are living things. They’ll tell you what they need if you let them grow and listen.” With that, she walks back to the house, her familiar following at her heel. 

Aelwyn blinks, dumbfounded and confused, and offers a feeble “thanks” as she goes. Danielle holds up a hand but doesn’t look back.

It feels strange, and foreign, and wrong to sit back, but Aelwyn forces herself to heed the druid’s advice. She returns the gardening manuals to the library. She spends time in her garden still, but without tools in her hands. She lays in the grass and looks at the sky. She drinks tea and reads under the shade of the tree. She keeps the grass in the graveyard plot trimmed.

It does take a few days for her to notice, but her plants do start to grow again. They creep beyond the boundaries she’d so carefully delineated for them, and she fights the urge to trim them back. She watches and listens to them closely, not with the eye or ear of a drill sergeant but of a parent, a real one, a loving one, one like Sandra Lynn who offered her overalls and one like Jawbone who brings her lunch and lemonade and asks her to rest. She finds what the plants ask for, and she gives it to them; plucks insect pests from their stems, prunes diseased leaves, ties them to stakes so they can grow tall, waters them when they’re wilting. 

By summer, it is no longer just green. Aelwyn wakes up one morning and looks out the window in the wizards’ tower, and for the first time, she sees pink. The next day, yellows. Soon, there is a rainbow of flowers blooming all over the yard, of a variety and vitality Aelwyn has never seen before. Her old home had a garden, sure, but it was too manicured, too neat, too formal, too artificial, and never was she allowed to tamper with it; that’s what hired landscapers were for. Mordred Manor has no hired hands; Aelwyn has her own.

Jawbone and Sandra Lynn meet her in her garden one day. It’s sunny and hot out, and Aelwyn is watching the bees and butterflies flit from plant to plant, drinking their fill of sweet nectar. They say how beautiful it is, and Aelwyn agrees. They tell her how proud they are of her work, and she agrees. They say they’re proud of how much she’s grown. (At first she thinks they mean the plants, but she realizes after what they really mean.) And they thank her for livening up the manor, and bringing some color out to the yard.

When they go inside, Aelwyn gets up, and grabs her shears. She finds the best blossoms from the best plants and carefully snips them off, tying their stems together in a bouquet with ribbon. And she sends them to Danielle, with an apology and a thank you.

[fanficshiddles]

Trust, Chapter 16

Loki was making his way down the corridor towards the kitchen. Darcy was just leaving and she smiled when she saw him heading her way, about to greet him.

‘LOKI!!!’ Natasha yelled from behind Darcy in the kitchen.

Loki’s eyes widened slightly and he smoothly did a complete one eighty turn in the corridor and headed off back in the direction he came from.

‘What did you do?’ Darcy called after him.

But Loki was off. In good timing because Natasha came out of the kitchen cursing, holding up Loki’s daggers.

‘He put these bloody things in the dishwasher!’ She hissed.

Darcy started laughing. ‘Well, that is one way to get them clean.’

‘He’s broken the dishwasher. One of these got caught up in the top jets!’ Natasha was not happy at all.

‘Oh… Let me return them to Loki, I’ll tell him not to do it again. I suspect he’s scared of you right now anyway.’ Darcy said as she held her hands out towards her.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at her and sighed. ‘Yeah, thanks. Or I might stab him with his own dagger if I see his face.’ She growled, handing them to Darcy.

Darcy almost dropped them as she headed off to find where Loki was hiding, they were heavier than they looked.

She headed for his room and knocked with her foot, relieved when the door opened to reveal Loki.

‘Good morning, Darcy.’ He smiled.

‘Cut the shit, Loks. I’ve never seen you move so quick as you did back there when Natasha was coming for you.’ Darcy bundled her way into his room and she dumped his daggers on his bed.

Loki chuckled as he shut the door and strolled over to her. ‘Using the dishwasher gets them sparkling.’ He said as he held one up and studied it carefully.

‘Yeah, but its disgusting as its in with all the dishes.’ Darcy grabbed a biscuit from the plate on Loki’s bedside table, then made herself comfy on his bed.

‘They’re all getting clean, I don’t see the problem.’ Loki shrugged.

‘Well, one of them fucked the dishwasher. So I suspect that you’ll soon have the entire team after you. Tony certainly won’t be happy having to do his own dishes by hand.’ Darcy said with a mouthful.

Loki glanced at her and frowned, she was spilling crumbs all over his bed. He rolled his eyes, then put his daggers into his pocket dimension.

Both Darcy and Loki jumped when there was banging on the door.

‘You’re on your own with this one, pal.’ Darcy said as she slipped off the bed and quickly crawled underneath it to hide, thinking it was someone about to give Loki a row for the dishwasher.

Loki smirked as he watched her disappear, then he went to see who it was. Though he was pretty certain that it was Thor, judging by the knock.

And he was right, Thor came in with a huge grin on his face, not waiting to be invited in.

‘What do you want?’ Loki sighed, folding his arms over his chest. He had a feeling this wasn’t to do with the dishwasher. Or now, lack of a dishwasher.

‘It’s great news, brother. Father wishes for us to visit for the Asgard festivities this weekend.’ Thor said, beaming happily.

Loki rolled his eyes so hard they almost fell out. ‘I will not be greeted well on Asgard, you should know this. Besides, I wouldn’t want to go there anyway. Even if you paid me.’

‘Oh come now, brother. You’ve changed, you can show everyone back home that too.’

‘They won’t care anyway, all they know me as is the monster. And who do we have to thank for that? Oh yes, Odin himself.’ Loki hissed, he started pacing.

‘Look, I know that father went about it all wrong. But you can show them. Like you’re showing us. Come on, Loki.’ Thor pleaded.

Loki shook his head as he turned to face Thor. ‘You know I hate those celebrations anyway. Always trying to pair us up with single, desperate Asgardian commoners.’

‘It’s not that bad.’ Thor said exasperatedly.

‘Because you have Jane as your partner to save you from them.’ Loki said as he folded his arms over his chest.

‘Well… You kind of need to come, Odin has said it’s not a request, it’s a demand.’

‘Of course it is.’ Loki wasn’t overly surprised to hear that.

‘Anyway… We leave tomorrow morning.’ Thor patted Loki on the shoulder and went to the door. ‘Oh, and apparently your head is on the line for breaking the dishwasher, so you might want to escape to another realm for a few days.’ He chuckled before heading out.

Loki shut the door behind Thor with a slam. He was seething. So much so he had actually forgotten about Darcy hiding under his bed, until she crawled out.

‘Geez, dude. You need to clean under here more often.’ She got up and dusted herself down.

Loki smirked and walked over to her. ‘Well, to be fair, it’s not often anyone is hiding under there.’ He chuckled and picked a cobweb out of her hair.

‘You’re going on a trip then.’ She grinned.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘No. I would much rather deal with Natasha’s wrath than go to that damned place.’

‘Sounds to me that you can’t turn down a demand from Odin?’ Darcy asked, sitting down on the bed again.

Loki’s jaw clenched as he sat down next to her. ‘You have no idea how boring those festivities are.’

‘Even with desperate Asgardian commoners all over you?’ Darcy grinned, nudging him playfully.

‘It is not as nice as it sounds.’ Loki huffed. ‘Besides I suspect they will be repulsed by me now anyway, now that they know my true heritage.’

‘They might be even more ravenous towards you. Some people are into that kinda thing.’

Loki looked surprised. ‘That kinda thing? What?’

‘Not that I am saying you’re a monster, cause you’re not. But some people are legit into monster fucking. Like werewolves, vampires, orcs, seriously dude… your Frostie form is probably vanilla compared to many fantasies.’

Loki’s eyebrows almost shot right off the top of his head as he looked at Darcy.

‘Seriously.’ She shrugged.

Loki leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I did not want to know that.’

‘Well, just warning you that some might be all over you even worse than before.’

‘Not something I wanted to even contemplate. I’d rather they were scared of me.’ Loki grumbled.

They were both silent for a moment.

‘Hey… What if you made it more exciting? Caused a stir amongst them all?’ Darcy asked.

Loki looked intrigued now. ‘What do you have in mind?’

Darcy grinned. ‘How about I go with you? I could be your date for the festivities, keep others away from you. We could cause some trouble, get people talking. It would be fun!’ Darcy said as she ruffled his hair playfully.

‘Do that again and there will be trouble right here, right now.’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘But… that’s not such a bad idea.’

‘I always have great ideas.’ Darcy said proudly.

‘Rarely.’ Loki countered.

‘A lot of the time.’

‘Occasionally.’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Once a year.’ Loki smirked.

It ended when Darcy shoved Loki over and stole his last biscuit before running out of his room to go pack for Asgard.

[thiswasinevitableid]

87. you’re a P.I. my parents hired to investigate my fiancee and you completely ruined my engagement party with the dirt you found but I want to know all the details right now

Sternclay, sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! I went NSFW and set it in the same universe as this Indruck fill. The orc designs are once again inspired by @kriskukko, whose art everyone should check out

The air is grey and chilly, and his best coat is still a bit too plain for this affair, but Barclay can’t help but glow. His husband to be is using this engagement party to invite him into parts of society he’s only glimpsed from behind kitchen counters or through windows on his way home in the early hours of the morning.

He didn’t even have to cook the table of delicacies and warm punches, which is usually his entry fee into any social space not hosted by Mama or his other friends back at Amnesty Lodge.

“Are you alright my dear?” William touches his shoulder. He’s the height of fashion from the new stud in his nose to the cut of his suit. Barclay looks at their linked hands, marveling at how his tattoos and calluses contrast with the smooth, unmarked green of Williams' skin. It’s wonderful to know he can be part of such an unlikely match.

“I’m fine. I just wish Mama and them could be here too.��

“Barclay, I know you care for them, but they agreed with me that this is not a party they’d feel comfortable attending.”

If memory serves, Mama’s word choice was “enjoy” not “comfortable” but he’s distracted from this detail by the orc currently in a hushed conversation with William’s parents. His accent is American, the same as Barclay’s. He knows William has no friends or family on the other side of the Atlantic, and he’s too well-dressed to be an attendant. When William’s parents fervently shake their heads, the newcomer turns and strides across the floor, right to the happy couple.

“Mr. Cobb” he offers Barclay a slight bow, shows no deference to William, “My name is Joseph Stern. I’m a private detective hired by your fiance’s family. They hoped I would find reason for him not to marry you. I have.”

“I, I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“No, you haven’t. The reason I suggest calling off the wedding is that he” Stern indicates William, “is not the least bit interested in you. He chose you because he knew his parents would disapprove of the match, which would in turn make it easier for him to call off the engagement two months from now and, three months after that, propose to his lifelong friend, Albert Rothby.”

Gasps and whispers fill the room. Barclay looks to William for reassurance but can’t find any; William’s too busy trading alarmed glances with Albert.

Stern continues, “His parents would be all too happy to accept the orc they once rejected for being from a slightly less well-off family after the shock and scandal of him almost marrying a nobody cook.”

“Hey!”

“His words, not mine.” The detective turns to the hosts, “You don’t need to pay me for my time, since I didn’t give you what you wanted. Good afternoon.”

A thoroughly baffled servant hands him his coat and hat as he exits, the room overflowing with chaotic accusations behind him. William doesn’t say two words to Barclay, choosing instead to shout at his parents. Barclay pulls off his silver engagement band, shoves it into his now ex-fiance’s hand, and storms out of the room.

He intends to make straight for the train station, hide his tears and humiliation until he’s safe under Amnesty’s worn shingles. But when he spies Stern on the corner handing coins to an errand boy, his foolish hope gets the better of him.

“How do you know?”

“Excuse me?”

“How do you know that’s really what William planned?”

Stern hails a cab, motions for Barclay to join him inside it. When they’re seated, he reaches into his coat and removes a bound stack of letters.

“Albert’s arrogant and sloppy; all it took was five pounds to get one of the maids to fish these out of his wastebasket.” He passes the notes to Barclay.

Each one he skims is like slicing his finger with a meat cleaver. Not a single piece of his personality or appearance remains unmocked by the time he’s done.

“I was just a game to him.” He stares at William’s signature, the same one that dots a pile of letters he’ll burn when he gets home. When he looks up, Stern’s face is full of sympathy.

“I considered not saying anything. That even if the engagement ended, you might be able to tell yourself it was a true love that wasn’t meant to be. But the longer I trailed you...I saw that you deserved better than being a pawn in someone else's trivial chess game. I offered his parent’s the chance for me to have the conversation in private; they doubled down on their insistence that you must be secretly awful to have lured their dear son to you. Ruining their party seemed fair.”

“I guess.” Barclay’s lip trembles. What was it William wrote? That he was as tender and devoted as a lapdog and twice as fun to kick around?

Stern produces a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket, holds it out to him, “I’m sorry. I know ignorance is bliss but, um, wasting your heart on someone like him strikes me as hellish.”

Barclay wipes his eyes, but the tears insist on flowing, “No you’re, you’re right, it just, I, I really thought he loved me.” He lets out a bitter laugh, “I really am more brawn than brain, just like he said.”

“No, you’re not.” The cab slows, and Joseph’s blue eyes pin the pieces of his crumbling heart together, “and even if you were every single thing he said you were in those letters, that wouldn’t justify his treatment of you. You’re a good man, Barclay” he smiles for the first time, “someone will treat you how you deserve one of these days.”

The driver announces they’ve arrived at Barclays hotel. He glances at Stern, surprised.

He opens the door for Barclay with a wink, “detective.”

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

Fall arrived on the first of September, meaning the business at Amnesty dwindles right along with leaves. They won’t see another flood of visitors until the winter holidays, when everyone travels up and down the country to meet with family. Barclay fills his days with work and tries not to think about how happy he was a year ago.

Dani has a cold, so he’s working the lobby counter until it’s time for him to start dinner. A chill and burst of nickel-tinted light announce a guest. When the orc approaches him, he drops his pen.

“Hello, Barclay. It’s nice to see you under happier circumstances.” Stern removes his hat, runs his fingers through his black hair, “would it be possible to rent a room here indefinitely? I’m on a case and I have no idea how long it’ll take.”

“Yeah, of course.” He pulls out the register to check which rooms are open, which would be easier if his eyes didn’t insist on flicking back to the orc in front of him. He’d noticed Stern was handsome before, in the same way he noticed the sky is blue or a piece of fruit was ripe. Now it’s all he sees; the cut of his clothes suggesting a trim, capable figure beneath, his clean shaveness showing off the angles of his jaw and cheeks. His tusks are the same size and not chipped like Barclays own. The cook wants Stern to sink them into his skin and not let up until he sobs for a kiss instead.

“Uh, here” he retrieves a key, “I can put you in number twelve. It’s upstairs, last door if you take a left.

“Great!” Stern takes the key, lifts his two bags, “thank you for accommodating me.” His gaze slows as it moves up to Barclays face, “I think I’m going to enjoy my stay.”

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

Joseph hates the days where he has to wait for telegrams before proceeding with his investigation. It makes him feel like a dog gnawing its tail out of boredom. At least, it used to. Now that he’s at Amnesty, he’s never bored. It’s hard to be when the best looking orc he’s ever seen likes to talk with him while cleaning tables or making breakfast.

William Ashby is a fool. Joseph knew this when he watched him forgo a kind, interesting orc who was built like a god and had eminently kissable lips for the sake of some uninteresting upper class nobody. But now that he’s eating Barclays’ cooking every day, the opinion is twice as strong. No one should be able to make potatoes a divine experience, but his friend manages.

“No running around stuffy offices or abandoned houses today?” Barclay sits down across from him.

“Not until I get a telegram from that solicitor in London. Black or white?”

“White. Well, that’s good news for me, I get a chance to beat you.” He’s smiling, the firelight dancing in his eyes and off the copper in his beard. Joseph wishes he could mimic the light's path with his hands.

Instead, he grins as he lays out the chess pieces, “In your dreams.”

An hour and a half later, Barclay whoops, “checkmate” and Joseph falls even more in love.

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

“Barclay? Since it’s not raining I thought you might like to…” Joseph falls silent at the sight of Barclay sitting on his bed, facing the window with a defeated set to his shoulders.

“Sure, as long as we’re back before dark.” He shrugs and doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Joseph settles beside him, notices the handkerchief with his initials on it clutched between his hands. The tears on it are fresh.

“Nothing. Just, uh, just….this is the anniversary of when he proposed. Of when I thought someone loved me that way, of when I thought that, that...fuck, it’s gonna sound so silly.”

“You don’t have to say it but I, um, I hope you know I won’t judge you for whatever it is.”

Barclay twists the fabric, “I love my life here at Amnesty. I love Mama, all my friends, I love being a cook. But I’ve never been wealthy; Mama and I faced lots of hard times before coming here, especially when my folks died and she took me in. The Lodge does well but there’s always the fear that one day it won’t. I can be happy without fancy food or nice clothes or nights out but, uh,” he clears his throat, “that doesn’t mean I didn’t really like having them. I don’t miss him so much as I miss this feeling of being able to want without worry. Of, of thinking I’d get to do that forever.”

He lists to the side, rests his head on Joseph’s shoulder. He’s both taller and broader than Joseph, which adds to his charms, but right now the detective wishes he was smaller so he could gather him in his arms and protect him from the disappointing world. Give him what he’s missing.

An idea buzzes to the front of his mind. He rubs Barclays shoulder soothingly, “You have to go into London for some orders, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“I have to go in to deal with this case and check to make sure nothing urgent is waiting at my office. Do you want to go together?”

Barclay looks up at him, brown eyes glittering like precious metal, “I’d love to.”

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

Barclay knows Joseph has wealthy clients; he’s starting to suspect he has even more of them than he lets on. They’re in London for two days, and every moment not spent sleeping or working is filled by Joseph taking Barclay somewhere. The meals are by far his favorite, but Joseph bought them tickets to the opera their second night. When Barclay worried he wouldn’t be well dressed enough, Joseph decided they could both do with new clothes and bought everything without blinking at the bill.

Now, Barclay is in a private box, belly full from their stop at Simpson’s and Joseph’s shoulder resting against his own. The music is beautiful, the staging intriguing, but he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, too warm and comfortable from the company and the darkness.

The port they had after dinner probably isn’t helping.

He rests his head back, let’s his eyes flutter closed. After a moment Joseph laughs softly and whispers, “A bit too full from dinner?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“That’s okay. The whole point of tonight is for you to enjoy yourself. If that means happily lazing like a dog by a fire, that’s what you should do.”

Barclay tenses for a second, then relaxes. It’s not like when William kept referring to him as a dog; in Joseph’s voice it’s fond, like a master who knows he indulges his hound but doesn’t care.

“That’s me. Just a spoiled pet.” He murmurs.

Short claws trace across his upper thigh, “As it should be.”

His eyes flutter open; Joseph watches him in the dark, expression attentive and possessive. His fingers don’t move even a centimeter until Barclay nods. Then they finish curving over his thigh to stroke his cock through his pants.

No one can see them, but even so his eyes dart side to side before shutting once more.

“Good boy” Joseph sighs, “sweet boy.”

Barclay nods, squirms as the touches stay teasing.

“Don’t rush. We have a whole other act to go. Just keep quiet; you’re a big, sweet beast, I’d hate to have to” he presses his palm down, “discipline you.”

He bites his tongue to keep from groaning; when they’re back at the lodge, he’s going to misbehave so much.

Joseph keeps up his steady, calculated teasing, Barclay never moving past half-hard. He falls into an almost sleep-like state, feeling weightless and far away from himself yet completely safe in Joseph’s care.

Then swift fingers undo his trousers and a handkerchief wraps around his cock. He throws a palm over his mouth as Joseph jerks his hand up and down.

“It’s almost over.” The detective murmurs, chuckles when Barclay crumples to hide his face in his neck, “that’s it, be a good boy and---oh, oh good lord.” He stifles a sigh in Barclays hair while Barclay cums into the cloth, saturating it embarrassingly fast. William once compared him, unfavorably, to a centaur in that regard. Joseph simply kisses his forehead and tidies him up. By the time they exit, the only sign of their dalliance is Barclays wobbly legs.

He fully intends to return the favor, but sex-drunkeness and general exhaustion drag him to sleep before Joseph is even in bed.

Their morning is a brisk packing up of things followed by a trip to the train station. Once they’re in their cabin, Joseph looks over the notes he made during his research.

“I just can’t shake the feeling Mr. Newton is in danger.”

“Giant cursed hound will do that.”

“I’m not so sure that’s it. I’m not ruling out the supernatural, but there are elements of this that feel distinctly orcish and very much alive in their threat. I’m glad he brought that friend of his with him; were he in Beacon House alone, he could be in serious trouble.” He closes his small notebook.

“I still can’t tell if he’s more than a friend.”

“They might not know. The few times I’ve run into Mr. Newton or Mr.Cold, they seem to be in stalemate, neither willing to make a move.”

“Good thing you don’t have that problem.” Barclay winks, then realizes he might be reading the other orc wrong, “I, uh, I mean, not that last night has to mean anything.”

Joseph unbuttons his coat, “I, um, I hoped it might.”

“Thankfuck.” Barclay slumps back, “me too.”

There’s a click of the lock, then Joseph stands and begins undoing his pants, “speaking of which, it seems to me a good boy would reward me for last night.”

“Yes, oh fuck yes.” He scrambles to get his cock out, stroking it frantically as Joseph rolls up his sleeves.

“You’re so eager to please, it makes me want to give you everything you ask for.”

“Please?”

Joseph, now bare from the waist down, bends to kiss him, “Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you, let me mppph!” His moan slips straight down Joseph’s throat as he sinks onto Barclays cock.

“Ohhhhhyes, ohmylord” the tips of his ears twitch as he rocks his hips, “you feel so good”

“Y-you’re one to talk, fuck, Joseph can I touch you?”

“Anywhere you waAAnt” he tips his head back, whisper threatening to break as Barclay drops a thumb down to rub his cock. He sets his hands on Barclay’s shoulders, “we, we don’t have much time, and I do need to review more of the case before we arrive, so be a good boy and let me ride you hard and fast?”

“Yes, yesfuck, ohyeah” A laugh catches on his tongue as Joseph, his dignified, debonair detective, sets to bouncing up and down on his cock with the kind of abandon he only witnessed when he used to serve drinks in a brothel.

Joseph grins, kisses him messily as their grunts meld with the rumble of the train. Barclay glides his free hand around to grope and paw his ass, savoring how it tightens with the effort of riding, of taking Barclay again and again. Curious, he gives it a light slap, wishing he could see a little pink bloom on the green there.

“Careful, sweet boy; if anyone’s ass is getting bruised it’s yours.”

“Tonight?” He smiles hopefully at Joseph’s flushed face.

“Yes, Barclay tonight. Tonight I’ll, ohlord, strip you down, let you rut on the bed like the needy beast you are while I turn your ass tender and red before fucking it, oh, ohshit, Barclay.” He smashes their lips together as he cums, Barclay whining with pleasure at the fact that he got him there. The detective doesn’t break the kiss as he pulls off, simply uses his strong legs to keep straddling him as he jerks Barclay off with one hand and rucks his own shirt up with the other. Barclay moans helplessly as he cums in large, white droplets all up his stomach and chest.

“You’re wonderful.” Joseph kisses his cheek.

“So are you.” Barclay holds him close, giggles adoringly when Joseph starts concocting theories while half-naked and cuddled in his lap. By the time they reach home, there’s no sign of their dalliance.

Except for their linked hands and matching smiles.

[miceandmonsters]

Male Orc x Female Character

FWB to Friends to Lovers; nerd/jock; multi-chapter

Sometimes the first is not the worst, not even a little bit. ; 2.2k

Part 1 

Part 2

If the digital clock on the bank was accurate, Ruban was in deep shit. Admittedly, he didn’t know Nikki particularly well outside of class. But someone who graduated with a 4.3 GPA didn’t seem like the kind of person who tolerated lateness in anyone, and especially not in good-looking athletes who semi-seduced her into tutoring them. ...Not that there were many out there with enough balls– or perhaps stupidity– to try that particular move.

Ruban tore into the parking lot of her apartment complex, killing the engine on his motorcycle, and taking the stairs three at a time up to the third floor. It was a rundown complex, tired and aged, but always full up with how close it was to campus. 

He was running so fast that he nearly sprinted right past her unit, till he caught himself and knocked twice on the door. The momentary pause gave him a chance to catch his breath before the door opened. Yeah, as expected, Nikki didn’t look too happy.

“I know I’m late, but I have a good reason,” Ruban said quickly. She just lifted an eyebrow in reply. “Practice ran long, and I figured you didn’t want me smelling like… anyway, I’m clean and I’m here and I’m sorry.”

Her face softened, and she stepped back to let him in. “Just text me if you need to reschedule next time.”

“I will remember that. I promise.”

The apartment was tiny, but looked like a catalogue showroom. There was a cleanly crisp scented candle burning on the coffee table, a fluffy blanket folded neatly over the couch arm. The books on the shelves were alphabetized. Did she always live like this? ...Knowing Nikki Williams, yes. Yes, she did.

“I figured that we could work in here,” she said, meandering to the kitchen attached to the living space. “Table’s better than a couch.”

He nodded. “Usually.” Dropping his backpack next to a chair, he looked down at her. “Should we… get started?”

“Might as well.”

“Cool.” Enthusiastically, he caught her chin with his fingers and dipped down to kiss her--

But she made a surprised noise and pulled back, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

His eyebrows flickered together. “We already talked about this? You know, the… arrangement?” Great, now he sounded like someone out of those soaps his great aunt watched.

“Yes, but…” She glanced around as if someone could be hiding in her postage stamp of a kitchen. “I didn’t think you were actually serious.”

“Oh, I’m always serious,” he joked, a grin teasing his lips. It dimmed when a new idea crossed his mind. “Do you want this?”

“Do you want this?” she asked back.

Ohh. He paused and actually gave it a few seconds of thought. Eventually, he decided that there was something deeply hot about seeing a woman like Nikki flustered and on the verge of blushing like she was right then. “Yeah, definitely.”

The blush actually spread across her cheeks now. Cute. “Okay,” she breathed. She nodded once and squared up her shoulders, a confident and straight-forward look in her eye. Determination was all nice and good, but he really wanted to see how flustered he could make her. How far down did that blush really go?

So instead of going for that kiss she was obviously angling her head for, his hands drifted to her hips. She was thrown slightly off rhythm and let him guide her backwards, step by step, till she was leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Counter’s better than a table,” he said, grinning slightly again.

“Usually,” she replied, picking up on his joke, but her words still wobbling slightly.

There was something in the anticipation, the fact that they both knew what was about to happen, that was nearly intoxicating. He’d barely touched her and already he could see her pupils expand to consume the warm brown of her eyes.

She was wearing a light blue dress with a skirt that fluttered about her thighs. He caught the hem between his fingers, just toying with it slightly. “This dress is nice…” 

“Thanks,” she whispered back. 

He held her gaze as he slowly pulled the hem up, brushing fingertips over her thigh. She inhaled as he brushed over the soft lace of her underwear and then slid his hand between her legs. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as he stroked her through the thin fabric, hips slightly moving to match his rhythm. He was wrong before. This, being able to watch her slow surrender, was intoxicating. Keeping the same pace, he trailed up over her underwear and then slipped underneath. Her skin was so soft. She whimpered as one of his fingers dipped between her folds--she was already wet. “Damn Nikki,” he breathed, feeling a little affected himself.

“Nicole. I…” Her eyes opened and locked with his. “I go by Nicole now–why am I saying this when you have your finger practically inside me?”

He laughed softly, enjoying the way she gripped his arm as he found her clit. “Too much?” he asked before he stroked directly again. But she quickly shook her head. “So, why the change, Nicole?” he asked, conversationally, as he circled her.

“I, uh… Ah… I thought it sounded… more… more mature,” she answered, her voice gone breathy.

“That sounds about right. Suppose Dr. Nicole is more respectable than Dr. Nikki. Sounds like a daytime television host.” He dipped his finger back to her growing wet before returning to her clit.

“Ye–yeah… that’s…” She shuddered and gripped both of his arms now. “Fuck–that’s the idea.”

“So you are going to go for your doctorate?”

“S-someda–” She blinked and seemed to realize what had just been happening. “Why are you asking me this right now?”

“Because it’s fun watching you try to concentrate while I finger you.” Her response was cut off into a groan as he slid one finger inside her. Fuck, she was going to feel amazing. But then he withdrew, making her clench around him and whine. “Turn around,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. Her eyes went wide, but she did as she was told. He shrugged off his leather jacket and then ran his palms over her shoulders, down her arms. “Hands on the counter, yeah, like that. You still want it?” he asked, mostly just to hear her ask for it again.

“Yes,” she groaned, head leaning back against his shoulder. Now, finally, he kissed her, deep and greedy, as his hand returned to her center. He started with just one finger, rocking and stroking, then added a second to grasp and press against her front wall, grinding his palm against her clit. Her knees quickly started wobbling so he wrapped his free arm around her, holding her up and against him. Every wordless groan or gritted swear fell from her lips shot straight down to his cock–he was really starting to regret the choice to wear jeans to this meeting. 

However, it wasn’t very long before she found a handhold at his neck and melted in his arms. No doubt he now sported four little half-moon indents, but he really didn’t mind at all. As he’d hoped, she was deeply sexy now that she was flushed and panting.

“Should… shouldn’t we study first?” was her first question when she’d put herself back together enough to ask.

He chuckled, tracing his tusk along her shoulder. “I’ve always been a dessert first sort of orc. And I’m not sure how well I can concentrate now.” To prove his point, he pressed his bulge against her ass, making her moan and shudder. Excellent. He kissed up her neck, nipping her ear lobe before asking, “Want some more?”

“Yes, please.”

He scooped her off her feet and sat her on the counter. She had a delighted little smile on her face as he reached under her skirt to pull off her underwear and toss them aside. “Don’t think you’ll be needing those.”

“Definitely not–oh.” Her whole core clenched and shuddered as he cupped her center while brushing his lips along her jaw. He’d intended to just tease her, but she grabbed his head and pulled him in for a demanding kiss that somehow just made him harder than he was before. 

It took a little fumbling to find the buttons on the front of her dress without stopping the kiss, but he was successful enough to expose her bra. It was the same ivory lace as her underwear. Ah, so she hadn’t actually thought he wasn’t serious… or she hadn’t wanted to run the risk of her being unready if he was serious, which sounded more like her. 

He stepped back to just look at her, breathless and the least put-together he’d ever seen her. “Damn Nikki–shit, Nicole. I’ll be better at that when I don’t have a hard-on.”

“It’s okay.” Still holding his gaze, she ran her hands over her breasts, squeezing slightly. Damn Nicole. Condom, he needed a condom now. He stepped away and snagged one from his backpack. She looked a little concerned when he turned back around and held up his trophy.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he promised, unzipping his pants finally. Her eyes on him could probably melt steel, which only made him take his time. However, he couldn’t stop his groan of relief as he freed his cock and then stroked himself a few times, thoroughly enjoying watching her squirm.

“Would you just get over here and fuck me already?” she demanded, looking about two seconds from tackling him to the ground. 

Grinning, he opened the condom with his teeth and rolled it on as he sauntered back towards her. She was so eager, but he really wanted to enjoy the anticipation. Rarely was a first time this good. So he just ran his cock between her folds, teasing her clit as she whimpered and mewled.

“For fuck’s sake–” she said right before she grabbed him by the ass and pulled him close enough for him to partially slip inside. They both moaned, and it was a moment before he could see straight. She was every bit as amazing as he’d thought she’d be.

“Fuck, Nic– A little warning might be–” He stopped as she started rocking her hips against him. Oh, he could watch her literally fuck herself with his cock all night–but she was going to leave him in the dust if he didn’t get moving. 

He pulled her to the edge of the counter and matched her rhythm, deep and thorough. It wasn’t artful, but damn if it wasn’t satisfying. He left long kisses down her neck, trailing down to run his tongue over her pert nipples under the lace of her bra. Carefully, he tilted the angle of his hips and was rewarded with a loud, “There!” from Nicole. He sped up, desperately wanting to see her fall apart again.

Her grip on his upper arms tightened again, eight more half-moons, the only warning he got before she shattered. A stuttered version of his name came from her lips, right before he pulled her tight to him and gave her a bruising kiss. Her pulsing around him nearly finished him off, he just– Chasing her to the edge, he picked her up with ease, bouncing her on his cock for the last few thrusts and following her over. The world whited out as he held her tightly, jerking with each wave. 

A minute– maybe, he honestly wasn’t exactly sure– later, he carefully put her back on the counter. The kitchen was filled with just the sounds of their panting as they both tried to catch their breath. He tossed the condom in the trash and zipped back up his jeans. Damn, he’d just had time-alteringly good sex with Nikki Williams. High school Ruban would have said that he was a dirty liar. Hell, three days ago Ruban would have said he was a dirty liar. But there she was, leaning back against her cabinets, a little bit sweaty, and looking like she’d just seen a god. 

She swallowed then looked over at him and asked, “Are you up to graphing polynomials? Or have you finished that unit already?”

His smug grin died. “I… you were thinking about polynomials while we were having sex?”

She nibbled on the corner of her thumbnail. “No. Just we’re done and it’s the next thing,” she answered, obviously half in thought. Then she looked his way and suddenly seemed to catch up to the conversation they were actually having. “I wasn’t--I mean, this was good. Really, really good. I promise. You were--” She made an ok sign, then quickly amended it to a thumbs up, before dropping her head in her hand. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged a shoulder and batted a hand against her knee. “Hey, it’s okay… your brain just… doesn’t ever stop, huh?”

She lifted her head to shake it. “No.”

“Doesn’t that make it hard to like… chill?”

“Exceedingly.”

Suddenly, everything he knew about her made a lot more sense. “That explains a lot, actually. But yeah, we’re on polynomials now.”

A blinding smile spread across her face. “Great, I’m good at those. Let me go grab my graphing calculator.” Nicole hopped off the counter and dashed out of the kitchen. 

Ruban smiled as he realized she’d left her underwear behind.

Masterlist

Part 3 - Coming soon!