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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

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Tumblr selected Missa to get impaled and messed up, and, really, who am I to object when given such things. I... hope I didn't mess this up too badly. Specifically one of the characters I do not know well. I just don't watch late enough. ^^; Did also consider a fantasy AU where Missa was getting executed, but then I remembered I have groceries to buy and other stuff I need to write today, so we stuck with basic bitch hours.

TW: temporary character death (AKA minecraft respawns, but they hurt for the drama and consequences), mercy killing (infinite lives and respawns and so this is very different to an irl one)

Missa has a run in with a code monster. Or should that be is run through by one?

It comes so fast. One moment Missa is having an awkward but enjoyable picnic, catching up finally with Roier while Cellbit and Richarlyson chase each other across the grass, and the next it is raining. Thunder, lightning, and rain.

In seconds Roier is on his feet and Cellbit is dragging Richarlyson back towards the two of them; Missa follows suit, remembers the warnings, and pulls out the only weapon he has on him - the gift from Etoiles.

Cellbit is saying something to his son in Portuguese, Missa only catching the odd word as he watches Roier check the skies. Whatever is being said the boy objects fiercely, shaking his head and stamping his foot and clinging to his father's leg.

Missa leaves them be, looking out the opposite way to Roier. He isn't sure what he's looking for, but he does hear Roier's yell.

Turning to look... He can see why it's called a code monster.

Cellbit swears and draws his own weapon, yelling at Richarlyson once again and moving into a defensive position. Missa does the same, though will admit to tucking himself a bit behind Roier as he does.

There's a few seconds, and the fight begins; it's about all Missa can do to not get hit, even the egg with them showing him up. He's tempted to just hide and wait it out, but... But if nothing else he can throw potions and pick people off the ground. Roier and Cellbit don't quite have the creature in hand, but they are keeping it occupied well enough - Missa grabs Richarlyson's hand, and tugs him /away/ from the fighting.

It's only because he has Richarlyson in his hand, and he is looking for if people need help, that Missa spots the second code monster, almost sneaking up on them from the treeline.

There isn't time to do much of anything, the monster already too close, its sword already in hand - Missa pushes Richarlyson behind himself, and screams at the boy to warp.

He has no idea if he understands the panicked Spanish Missa yells, but it's all he has time for; the code monster is right there, and Missa hears Roier yelling 'oh shit' as he notices it, and he raises his sword and pretends he knows how to use it.

It's not really worth the attempt - the code monster's sword is long, and sharp, and cleaves Missa's armour in two as it pierces deep and through his chest.

In his few remaining moments of true clarity, Missa hears the sound of Richarlyson warping - finally escaping.

And then

he falls.

"Missa, Missa!" Quick hands catch him, sharply twisting him onto his side and cushioning his head, making sure nothing touches the blade. "Breathe, idiot!"

It isn't okay - it isn't, it isn't, it isn't! There's a sword through his chest and when he tries to follow the instructions, tries to be good, tries to breathe, all that happens is he weakly splatters blood across the grass. The movement shifts the sword - and, oh, he wasn't sure he could still get enough air in him to scream.

There's swearing - so much swearing - and Missa's scream settles into a despairing sob. Once, twice, and why is he crying /now/, why is he crying now when every hitch of his chest causes more and more flesh to be broken, blood to be poured, damage to be done. Missa tries, he tries to get himself under control, he promises he does! But the wound is agony, and what else can he even do?

Nothing, he can do nothing.

The wound is a death sentence, but not enough to kill him quickly. It would be, if someone would do him the mercy of ripping the sword out, but no - no, they aren't doing that, instead Roier is knelt infront of him face pale and hands flailing as he tries to fix the wounds, while Bad and a very tired looking Etoiles fight off the code monster - when did those two arrive Missa doesn't remember those two arriving - while Cellbit kneels at Roier's side and suggests - not unkindly - that maybe it would be better to die and respawn, it's okay, they'll watch his stuff.

It already hurts. It already hurts and hurts and hurts, and Missa knows if he dies it will be even worse, but he's going to die anyway - he knows it. He just doesn't want the pain, he never wants the pain, just let him be, let him breathe, let him stop spitting up blood, blood, blood with every breath he manages to force into his lungs.

Death on Quesadilla Island is cheap, it's temporary, but still it hurts so badly.

Missa meets Cellbit's eyes, and gives the slightest nod.

Cellbit's expression shifts from pain to apology to completely blank as he pulls a knife from his belt, and flashes it across Missa's throat.

He isn't alive long enough to Roier's scream.

---

Missa wakes with a start, back in his bed - oh, in the bed in his children's room. He lies there, trying to breathe, trying to banish the agony in his now-healed chest. His communicator is bussing furiously, but for now all he can do is ride out the pain and try remember how to breathe.

There's soft, sleepy noises from beside him; Philza, unaware of the rain or the panic or the blood rolls over in his sleep, mumbling something as an arm and a wing wrap across Missa's chest.

"Philza?" he manages to mumble out in a squeak, shuddering with the word.

There's more mumbling, but his husband absently props himself up on an elbow, rubbing at his eyes as he asks "Missa?"

"Philza, I-" Missa's words cut off in a sob as another wave of pain ripples through him and oh sweet death this is a bad respawn - a terrible way to die.

That wakes Philza up more; Missa feels him sit up, hears him ask what happened, sobs as his head is pulled across and onto Philza's lap. Another horrible wave comes, and he distracts himself listening to Philza's unhappy hum, and the sound of quick fingers typing.

"It's okay," comes as the communicator is folded away. "You're safe now."

Missa can't say anything, voice tied up in pain and tears and fresh agony in his chest. Every hiccup is fire, but the sobs keep coming anyway. It feels like dying all over again - if he didn't know better, Missa would say that he was.

Philza weaves their hands - their fingers - together, and gently shushes him, "the code's gone; the eggs are all safe, and the code's gone. Roier's just grabbing Richas, then he'll bring your stuff over. Everything's okay."

It's not okay - it /hurts/. Missa whines, trying to communicate that; Philza leans down to press his forehead against Missa's cheek, while his hands seek their way to Missa's chest, and begin massaging the area where the sword had been.

"I know it hurts," Philza's breath tickles Missa's ear. "I'm so, so sorry... But you've got this, king; it'll be over soon."

Healing always hurts more than bleeding, and respawning more than dying in the first place. He's glad it was him and not Richarlyson - the eggs don't come back like he does - but that's the only bit he can be glad about.

Well, maybe also that Cellbit really knows what he's doing, because for all his chest can only be felt in shades of fire, the wound on his neck is already fully healed and dead.

Missa keeps crying and Philza keeps holding him, until eventually the pain fades. It's still there - it will be for hours if not days - but it's just an ache now. Philza's fingers linger on the new scar, before reaching to the windowledge at his side of the bed, and passing Missa a glass of water.

He sips at it; the water is room temperature, and disgusting, but it's real.

"You feeling okay?" Philza asks, watching close.

"Hurt," is about what Missa can manage, drained and exhausted and in pain.

"I'll bet; codes are a bitch," wearing nothing but a long shirt, Philza slips off the bed. He walks over to his backpack, and returns with a bowl of noodles. "Chayanne made these a bit ago. Should still be warm; get some food in you, king."

Missa accepts the offering, hands shaking as he eats his own boy's food. It's in that he thinks, and he remembers, and he asks, "wait, Chayanne?!"

"All safe," Philza slips back onto the bed, and shows Missa a screen. After a second it flickers on, showing Chayanne and Tallulah peacefully asleep in the basement. "Checked it as soon as I realised what was up."

He traces the forms of the children with his fingers, and eats the noodles as cleanly as he can. The two of them sit quietly as he does, Philza's head resting on his shoulder, and arm looped loosely across his back.

Just as he puts the bowl down, Missa hears the warpstone outside, and yelling, and then a knock at the door.

"I opened it for you!" Philza yells back.

Seconds later there are more people than space in their tiny little house; Richarlyson hops up on the bed, pressing against Missa's side as he furiously scribbles on a sign, and Roier kneels beside it, checking on the scar - both his chest and his throat - with fury in his eyes and no words on his lips.

After leaving a bag with Missa's things in it, Cellbit lingers in the doorway. He hesitates even when Philza waves him inside, only stepping just enough for the door to close.

Roier's fingers come up towards Missa's neck. He grabs them, knits their hands together, and brings both to his lap.

This problem... this problem Missa can see.

"It's okay," he speaks quietly, hoping only Roier and not the translator will hear. "I asked him to."

Roier's eyes harden, "he still shouldn't have."

"I- I wasn't going to live," Missa says, absolute certainty in his veins.

Roier's fingers squeeze around his, and Missa watches as the mask is reconstructed. Cellbit watches them like a man who knows the conversation isn't over, and is dreading the rest - but he's lost the fear that he might not win.

"Thank you, for saving Richarlyson," Cellbit says, plucking his son up off the bed just as he finishes a sign asking if Missa is okay.

Missa is absolutely not okay; all three adults watch him with doubt in their eyes as he smiles at the boy and says, "it hurt, but it's all better now - see?"

Richarlyson is not nearly so careful when he touches the scar; Missa holds in the flinch, and wishes for his own son.

Philza must see because he starts to tap his foot; a minute or two of exhausting conversation and giving reassurances later, Missa watches his husband herd their guests out of the door, thanking them for the visit and reminding them that he wants back to sleep.

Guests shooed, Philza returns, taking Missa's hands as he collapses onto the bed.

"You actually ok?" he asks.

"Still hurts," Missa admits, lying down and curling towards his husband.

"Poor thing," Philza replies, tugging him closer - into a hug - and wrapping them both in one tattered wing. "Anything I can do to help? Before I go back to sleep because, Chirst dude, I care about you but I am not supposed to be awake at these hours."

Missa laughs a little, warmed by the confession that Philza cares, even if he ignores all the rest. He shakes his head, and tucks his chin over Philza's head.

"I'll sleep it off," he promises.

"Alright," comes the reply. "See you in the morning. If you need anything, just kick me awake."

Missa won't - he'll let Philza peacefully sleep - but he appreciates the thought. Instead he steals the camera plate from his pocket, setting it to the downstairs room before resting it on the pillow.

On the screen, he can see Chayanne - and Tallulah - sleep, occasionally shifting but never waking.

He pulls Philza closer to himself, putting pressure against the still sharp pain in his chest. It warms it, it soothes it, just as watching their children sleep does to his mind.

Missa's not quite tired yet, but he accepts the adrenaline, and just lets himself drift.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #qsmp roier #qsmp cellbit #qsmp richarlyson #trigger warnings in post #stab stab stab times!!!

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thedevillovesflowers · 6 months

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*gnawing on the bars of my enclosure* I need more angel AU stuff. Headcanons for the 141, more angel info, more parts to the series. I need more hhhhhh

Absolutely!

More of the Angel AU!🪽🪽

-so during the story the group comes across many beasts on their journey, Trolls, fae, orcs etc.

-there is even a dragon encounter.

-but there is one creature that concerns everyone in the group the most, even the reader. Harpies.

-I will be drawing these guys soon, but harpies are not going to be a great encounter the boys have. Harpies are carnivores and have been known to hunt and eat men. And even hunt angels too. They are cunning, and a chaotically neutral species. One may or may not be helpful to our reader.

-graves loves to torment the reader. Lying to her that she’ll see her family again once the king meets her. Or give her the false sense of trust (but we all know he’s just being a conniving psycho bitch :) ). But the 141 boys never liked him in the first place.

-when the 141 realized the true intentions of what the king wants to do, including Graves, they helped the reader escape.

-throughout most of the story, the readers wing is still broken. It takes a while before it’s healed. So a lot of walking! And sometimes being carried :).

- during that time of finding the readers family, the reader opens up more about herself. And she opens the 141s eyes about beasts/creatures, that they don’t deserve to die or be hunted mercilessly. And one by one, the boy grow more and more fonder of you.

-the first couple of the boys to get closer to you is Gaz and soap, their easier going nature settled your nerves. Plus they secretly gave you extra food when you were first captured.

-price was next, he noticed how well Gaz and soap were getting along with you. He starts off slow, then it eventually picks up with more conversation. You ask him about his travels, where he’s been and what he’s seen. You’ve only ever really known your home forest, not much more, so it was endearing to hear about what the rest of the world might be like.

- and ghost….he’s last, but it’s not because he doesn’t like you. He’s just…unsure about how to interact with you. You looked relaxed around the other 141 boys, but not quite with him. And he gets it, he’s not easy to be around, he unnerves people at the least. His armour, his faceplate, everything about him yells hunter, danger.

-but you? The complete opposite of him: soft, kind, innocent. An innocent he hurt. He hurt you, it was his net that made you crash to the earth, breaking your one of your beautiful wings. And the guilt was there, every time he looked at you, flaring up even more so when your kind eyes met his.

-so he’ll protect you, with all that he has, and everything he is. And hopefully these growing afflictions and feelings ghost has for you will go away.

-and Simon prays that the day he has to tell you the truth about what he did to you never comes.

#call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #art #simon ghost riley #soap mw2 #gaz mw2 #price mw2 #mw2 x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw soap #call of duty mwii

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everyone-with-a-para · 5 months

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Alright! The last poison: the Jellyfish bitch herself, Actress/Fictional!Lusamine.

When I say this would be an info dump, it will be an info dump.

Tldr: Lusabitch becomes besties with SpongeBob, cools tf down, diverge more, gets angsted by the paracosm's lore, all because of this one comic I found in kym.

The bitch has been through a lot. She's been around since day one of Screen Universe and even some time before that. She's one of the late comers to the previous paracosm and got carried over to Screen Universe during the transition.

Funny enough, I despise the bitch's canon self and still do. But her daydream counterpart diverge almost beyond recognition that I can't see her the same way anymore. You could say she became a fully grown para along side with SpongeBob and a few others.

Speaking of SpongeBob, my man is the one who started her development and divergence as a para! If it wasn't for him, idk what I could have done to her instead. Bro thought it was a good idea to befriend one of the most fucked up characters in the Pokémon franchise, ran with it, and actually ended up being iconic doing it. Not Lillie, not even Archie (even though he really should have). Nope, it's the Bitch™ he formed a bond with.

Imagine, your imaginary/daydream childhood best friend befriending a character you hate, and you ended up watching where it's heading until it's too late. By until it's too late, I mean ended up supporting their dynamic while being conflicted about it because of who the two people are involved in the said friendship. It's very much like that.

Although, I'm not really sure who even initiated the befriending. For all we know, it could have been mutual.

So how did that happen? It all started with encountering this joke comic on Know Your Meme of Lusamine recreating a SpongeBob episode where he attempted living with the jellyfish. I ran into it on Facebook when I was younger and the full title didn't load. It just stopped at the part that implied the Bitch being in a SpongeBob episode doing something, but it didn't say what. So my younger self was like "w h a t" and daydreamed of the two interacting more than usual. This is prior to Screen Universe. Back then, when she joined, she was just like her canon self, and Spunch was kinda diverging while being mostly in character. So they'd fight (mainly in the trophy room and Ultra Space, but it can be anywhere else) and be after each others' necks. She even froze him one time and he only escaped because plot armour.

When I finally read the full title and comic, that's where shit hit the fan and started the bond in motion. They didn't become besties over night, it had a rocky start because of how I see both characters at the time (love one, but hate the other). Their interactions and scenarios evolved over time. With shit like soulmate AUs, fights, and the copyright jokes to name a few. The memes involving Lus being portrayed as SpongeBob (either with a scene or as SpongeBob himself) definitely spiked the development of their relationship. I think they started to mellow down with eachother towards the end of the previous paracosm, and the transition between both daydream eras.

What really cemented their fate as a pair was drawing this fan art of the two riding on eachother's jellyfish forms back in 2019. A handful of people on the Pokémon Amino liked it and even commented on it. This was when Screen Universe was still pretty new and these two are still actually warming up to each other after like one to two years of fighting and bickering. They just eventually agreed Jellyfishes are neat and they should bond over their enthusiasm for them. There was another fan art I made with the two before that, but that didn't gain much attraction iirc.

Over the course of the paracosm's development, their bond grew and grew until we're where we are now. There had been some rough edges here and there like when they were starting out in Screen Universe's fresh beginnings, Lus was still pretty malicious even for SpongeBob's detriment. And there was an phase back in 2021-early 2022 where Sponge didn't treat her too well (saw her as a weapon for ends to meet), but eventually cut that shit out. But there's some fluff too, like when they had tea together, gush about jellyfishes, and spar.

I think I will have to cut the ask in two because this is getting long 💀

I think my many issues trying to post this is because of how long it is so I'm gonna try posting asks 2 and 3 in the replies instead of pasting it into the main body of the post

Reading this and shovelling popcorn into my mouth like it's the newest cult classic movie I'm so invested

SpongeBob Lusamine enemies to besties core <3 when the paras are emotionally dependent on each other >>>>>

Taking all the villain Fictionals and giving them soft blankets and hot chocolate and therapy btw

Fma:b mentioned!!!!! (Rip my fma:b paracosm my paraself was so OP in that when I was 14)

Mickey needs to take a fucking nap, sort his ego out, and rethink his life choices please and thank you

#long post #ask #poké anon #sea-adehesiveness537 #paraportal #quill speaks

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goldenstoriesfromgoldenhearts · 7 months

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Divine Intervention

A heads up before anything. This is so non-canon complicit it's not even funny, this was entirely self-indulgent and not canon to the other Rae stories I've posted. This is a simple lil fun 'what if' idea.

I haven't done the Cazador fight yet so I took so many creative liberties~ It was also sort of running on itself at the end there and I wasn't sure where to cut it so we get a fun lil Rae one-liner. I might write the fight scene but I might not. Unsure yet. Also Lliira is a Forgotten Realm's goddess, not a canonical Baldur's Gate entity but considering they use the FR gods in their pantheon, I figured it was a safe bet.

POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR ACT 3 IN HERE ANYWAY CUZ IT IS CAZADOR FIGHT. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rae knew they were going to have a bad time during this fight, all of them had known going against Cazador Szarr was going to be hellish, it was why they had stocked up on holy oil, why Shadowheart had layered as many blessings on them all as she could manage, it was why Rae had gone into the ritual room already raging, a quick hard-enough-to-draw-blood bite to her cheek.

What she hadn't expected was Astarion to be taken out for the first few rounds, the ritual starting.

How they'd gotten here was a blur, she'd been front and centre, taking most of the brunt of the damage along with Panae's earth elemental form going full metal and taking what she didn't. Wyll pulling double duty to both get some hits in and help their rogue friend out.

She remembered that there had been a glowing white arrow shot by her that had hit Cazador in the shoulder and had heard Astarion shout something that she hadn't been able to hear over the blood pounding in her ears and a part of her had relaxed, he was in the fight, he was okay, she could focus now.

Only she was pretty sure, staring down at a pearly white fanged grin, that was when it had started going to shit.

Red eyed, blood thirsty spawn created a barrier around each of her friends. All of them fighting to just survive while she had been one-on-one getting her ass handed to her by Cazador himself.

As a team they'd been dealing damage but in her armour, with her rage clouding her vision and her ears. She hadn't stood a chance.

She was pretty sure one of his attacks had broken part of her armour, she could feel something sharp digging into her skin. The pain mixing with everything else, her sword had been kicked away and her height truly was working against her. Cazador was holding her up by her neck like she was a doll, something fragile he was intending to break.

“Bitch Ass Fuck” She gasped out, trying to in vain scratch at his arm, anything to get him to drop her.

It was getting hard to breathe

“Such a vulgar mouth on this one Astarion, I thought I trained you better” Cazador's voice carried over the sound of the fighting and she could tell, staring at his face, the minute he got her friends' reactions, the grin turned smug and his eyes narrowed.

“Let her go you wretch” Came Astarion's furious snarl, loud and if Cazador were anyone else, she had no doubts he would been having second thoughts. Her friend sounded about ready to go feral and murder someone. Probably Cazador.

“Now why would I go and do something like that?” Cazador asked, his eyes flicking up to the deep gnome as her rage dropped, the red fading from her eyes back to a dark pink. Squeezing tighter on her neck, Rae let out a strangled noise, black beginning to cloud the edges of her vision

“Coward” she breathed out, glaring as the vampire lord let out a low chuckle

“Not a coward darling, just smart” He said, his eyes moving away from her back to Astarion and it made her sick to her stomach the pure enjoyment he got out of whatever he was seeing.

“Coward” She said, trying her best to snarl the word out but it came out instead as a pain gasp. “Haven't. . .you heard. . .of a. . .fair fight”

“I haven't actually, what's that like?” he asked, still staring away from her and she felt annoyance flare up beside the pain. Why bother singling her out as a threat if he wasn't even going to treat her as. . .

Understanding soon flared and she, against her better judgement, tried to look over her shoulder at her friends, finding the reason for it all too soon.

Astarion was fighting like a bat out of hell, using daggers and teeth. Four spawns' bodies lay dead around him and the last three were having trouble keeping him from darting over, she watched as one tried to grapple him and promptly had an arm broken and a knife through the heart.

Cazador was playing off Astarion's desperation.

'How many times had he seen this?' she wondered, head flicking to Sebastian for just a moment 'how many times had he tried to become close with one of his fellow spawn only for Cazador to torment and kill them in front of him?'

She found her eyes drawn back to the very man holding her up and found him watching her intently, something on her face must have given her thoughts away if the sick grin, borderline manic thing that appeared on his face said anything.

Rae wanted to snarl that he was a sick twisted bastard, how dare he use her to hurt someone she loved, she'd fucking kill him for it the fucking cu-

The angry thoughts swirling around in her head were quite suddenly cut off by the feeling of. . .wet? A cold blooming pain was coming from her chest. Her head looked down and she found a sword sticking out from her, neatly slotted in between two plates of her armour.

Well that wasn't good.

The hand holding her up suddenly released and she fell to the floor with a loud heavy THUNK, her head hitting the ground adding to the pain she was suddenly aware of.

There was a scream maybe? A yell? She really couldn't be sure. There was a ringing in her ears that was muting everything, like she was raging but worse.

She tried to reach up, grabbing the sword's blade in an effort to pull it out of her when a scream ripped itself from her throat, as instead, a pale hand pushed it further down.

Cazador was saying something, looking away from her, looking vaguely like a deeply disappointed parent. He shook his head and the sword was ripped from her as he simply moved, a blur.

She lost track of everything but the pain.

There was sounds of battle going on but she couldn't hear any of it, it was like the world had become muted.

Moving made it worse so she just lay there, her thoughts a jumbled mess, there were yells of words in voices not her own bouncing around her head but she couldn't focus enough to make them out.

Why was she so cold?

The pain was overwhelming. . .until it simply wasn't anymore.

She was floating above it, above herself, her eyes dull and lifeless, her body had lost it's colour and under her purple armour, under her was a pool of blood.

Her eyes flicked over to her right, seeing blurs of black and white, saw flashes of green magic and grey objects that flew by, fell and then were remade again.

None of it quite made sense to her.

She wanted to fly down and over to see if she could make sense of it all but a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her, she turned to look and a beautiful woman stood there.

Long blue-black hair, pale skin, bright warm blue eyes, a yellow flowing dress adorned her figure and a name flicked through Rae's mind.

Lliira, goddess of Happiness and Freedom

She'd seen her statue on her mother's altar once, she'd been drawn to the bright colours of the piece before her mother had laughed and put it away. Saying it was not for tiny hands.

Lliira smiled at her, gently tapping her nose with a giggle

“It is not your time yet little one” The Goddess said, her voice bright and warm “You have gods chosen to fall, a follower of my friend Mystra to save and a life to live”

“Why me?” came her broken reply, her spirit heavy. She was exhausted, she just wanted rest and was now being told she couldn't? Why?

“Because a devout one of mine gave you life, pleaded when you fell and I am never one to turn down a request” Lliira answered, stepping back to reveal a young deep gnome standing there. Her blonde hair in a tight braid, her eyes just as brown as Rae remembered, her clothes simple comfortable, a loose shirt, soft-looking pants.

Rae reacted on instinct, darting into her mother's arms who embraced her and held her close. A kiss being pressed to her head. Tears falling from Rae's eyes with quiet sobs that were gently shushed.

“It's alright petal, you are okay darling, it's okay” the older gnome whispered, eyes connecting with her Goddess's before the deity smiled and vanished. “I know my love, I know”

It healed cracks she didn't know existed hearing her mother's voice again, a small part of her comforted even in such circumstances

“I missed you” came a broken whisper from Rae and she felt lips press against her head again

“I know, I missed you. As did your father, we await you for your time my love” She said before the two pulled back slightly, her mother's soft smile faltering “But it is not your time yet, you have a destiny, as do your friends. They need you”

“I'm so tired ma” Meeva'Rae said, her shoulders slumping and her mother gave her a look full of sympathy. Wiping a tear away, Rae leaned into her mother's hand and sighed.

“You have a long fight ahead of you, I will not lie but you are strong, you will get through it and then you will have a lifetime ahead to rest. I promise” Her Ma said and Rae closed her eyes for just a moment, soaking up as much of this as she could, the air full of the scent of snapdragons and violets, warmth that seemed to surround and soak into her skin

“I best get back to it then” Rae said, opening her eyes again, a determination settling in. The two sharing a smile before Rae's mother moved her hands to her shoulders, a soft purple glow beginning to come from them.

“Our Lady has promised a fraction of her power for your current most problem but you will need rest. I can only preserve your life for so long”

“Get in, get it done quick. Okay” Rae gave a firm nod before reaching up and squeezing her mother's hands “I love you, tell Pa I miss him?”

“I will my heart. On the wind and light with you”

Those were the last words she heard before gasping, she felt the cold stone floor beneath her and slowly made her way to standing. She could still feel the wound in her chest, it was smaller now but would still need attention.

The sounds of battle reached her ears and she whipped around, dead spawns' bodies littered the floor but she could see her friends. Astarion and Cazador were snarling at each other, Wyll's eyes glowed with purple as she noticed the hex energy around their vampiric foe and Panae was sending mud mephit after mud mephit into the fray.

They'd gotten a few good hits in, she could see and she grinned. Her flaming sword now glowing with a distinct white-golden hue appeared in her hand. She rushed over.

Swinging her sword up in a diagonal line along her enemy's back, she heard the hiss of pain and Cazador jumped sideways, spinning to face them all. Smoke coming off his back

“Surprise ass fuck” Rae said, twirling her sword before taking her stance next to Astarion. The looks on her group's faces were a mixture of surprise, relief and confusion. She knew she would have some explaining to do later.

“You were dead” Cazador growled and Rae just giggled and sent him a playful wink

“Had a chat with Death, they decided I was too much of a hassle.” She asked, bright and perky as she grinned at him. Her body began to glow the same white-golden hue as her sword, the light washing over her family, small wounds closing, their weapons and claws beginning to glow with divine energy. “Ready to meet death yourself asshole."

#bg3 tav #Meeva'Rae The Deep Gnome #bg3 #Astarion #Panae The Druid #wyll ravengard #mine #stories #Cazador Szarr #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3

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voidpidgeon · 8 months

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I might've got a little carried away… How about 4, 14, 18, 29, 30?

ajsdkf is this some kind of revenge for the writers ask game

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw and 29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

heeereee

14. Any favorite motifs

love me some leafs, love me some armour, loooooooove me some scars

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken

man with every chalk, pen and colored pencil ever broken

uuff my only saving grace is that i lose stuff all the time and that is not technically broken.

Maybe around 200, maybe more?

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

heeerrrreeeeee

#pidgeon ask #elmhat tag

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another-corpo-rat · 1 year

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Prompt: Enjoy the Silence Adam Smasher/OC Summary: After a few hours in the chair, Victoria’s brewing headache is a predictable thing. Smasher takes steps to prevent it.

Silence is not a natural state of Night City. There was always sound from some source, from passing cars or firing guns, the hollering of drunkards or the screams of victims, the ever-present inescapable blasting of an advert somewhere.

Even on the Ebunike, dry-docked and ghostly, Victoria wasn’t free from the din of sound. No. If anything the Maelstrom who lingered around the ship made it their personal mission to fill any semblance of quiet and give her a splitting headache while they were at it. Banging and knocking against the ship’s hull, their music was always loud enough that the heavier songs trebled through her bones.

The later the hour, the louder they were. Usually.

Tonight it was quiet, the cold air crisp and dead of all noise.

And maybe if she wasn’t exhausted down to her bones, cyberdeck burning hot in her neck and a headache clawing at her temples, it would have made her uncomfortable, put her on edge as if something was wrong. It doesn’t. She sinks deeper into the shitty settee behind the ship’s bridge, breathing out the smoky caramel of her near-done cigarette and stretching out her legs. Groaning in relief as something pops in her right knee.

The bridge’s door slides open, whining and then stopping with a cha-thunk as its rusted mechanisms catch. She cracks an eye open, lips twitching at Smasher’s responding curse. He forces it open, pushing it all the way before he leans, near having to fold himself to get through. He doesn’t knock his head against the threshold this time. (Not that she was keeping count but �� she was.)

“Awfully quiet tonight.” She says in place of a greeting as he plants himself beside her, knees spread wide. He hums low, head angled to keep his optics on her. “Usually my ears are bleeding with the wannabe-borgs shit taste in music.” She nods towards the dock, where said wannabes would nest like vermin. Huh, they didn’t even light any fires tonight either. Odd.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear them screaming earlier.” He huffs, and not for the first time does she wonder how he manages the sound without lungs or a nose. “Was expecting them to put up more of a fight with all the shit they hoard.”

“More of a- you killed them?”

“I didn’t want to have to listen to you whine about a headache again so I told the gonks to keep it the fuck down tonight. They didn’t.”

“I do not whine, I—” She blinks as thought hits her, the left corner of her lip twitching upwards. “You killed them for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I told them to shut up for you, I killed them because they didn’t listen.” Her grin gets wider, baring teeth and growing impossibly smug. “What?” A bark of a word.

“Oh, nothing.” She leans into him. Her cheek rests against his armoured bicep, both of her arms curling around a thick forearm and drawing it against her. “You utter sweetheart.” She croons, and for all his griping, he doesn’t complain now; simply sighing as his hand splays against her thigh, giving the meat of it a gentle squeeze before his fingers rub slow circles into the muscle. Her fingers trail their own path, ghosting along his forearm, tracing the subtle line of the panels that hid his arm cannon. “Did you record it?”

“Already uploaded to the shared files.” She smiles, the motion hidden against chrome as she turns to press a kiss to his arm before resting against him once more.

She’ll indulge in his bloodshed later, for now she sinks into him. Her eyes drift closed against the warmth of him and the not-unpleasant ministrations against her thigh, blanketed by the rare quiet of the ship.

She won’t recall when she fell asleep – but it was some point after he had rumbled ‘lazy bitch,’ low and fond.

#cyberhanami23 #cyberpunk 2077 #Adam Smasher #cyberpunk oc #corpo v #Victoria Crane #fic tag #my writing #shorter one this time #and actually the first thing i had written for the event #Ship: Gilded Chrome

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coffee-in-veins · 4 months

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Weirdly Specific Artist Ask Game, #4, 6, 9, 13, 19, 20?

hullo hullo, thank you for the ask!

and thank you for so many questions ^^

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

Reynauld - because he is so metallic and shiny and i suck at drawing armour; also Sans Undertale because all of those bones and how they should look to be believable

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)

hmmm... not even sure, to be honest. probably some of the older things i grew up with, like Starcraft, Warcraft, Morrowind, and Legacy of Kain. a lot of older games, frankly and the books i read as a kid... which were, looking back, not kid-friendly at all if they were judged today xD

9. What are your file name conventions

usually it's some pompous name which actually spawned the picture, like vae victis, hieromania, blood tango, he who hunts till dawn

if it's a text file, i go out of my way to have hooks so i would understand at a glance what it is and where it should go because i have a lot of those and eventually you forget where they are and what i was writing at all, like ch[chapter number] - [chapter name] - [part number]. unless it's a one-shot or a research note

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

hmmm... it's been a hot minute i had to look into some other works. frankly, Hidetaka Miyazaki comes to mind. is it gorgeous? yes. is it a thing i've listened hours of lore analysis of? yes. would i play it? thanks, i have enough cacti to chew in real life, so no

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

huh. it took me a long minute to think about. probably bones. i love drawing bones, whether inanimate or very much animated. also probably eyes. just eyes. nothing attached to them

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

hands - they're very flexible and expressive. also dymanic poses - although it often feels like chewing rocks at times. but i love doing it, and trying to make poses more and more alive, i like pushing the envelope in that department, you know?

#my shoebox of letters #ask game

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someone-always-cares · 1 year

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chapter 5, page 39

first - previous - next

[image description: an sac webcomic page. “i’m fine- i- i just want to leave” lewis stutters, hunched in on himself. “okay, let’s go” moon replies, holding her cane with both hands on her lap. the panel angle now showing that she’s floating above the floor, while lewis gets off the couch. meanwhile split second is leaning back and looking over at izumi, the two having a side conversation. “when the fuck did you get there?” izumi asks. “time is my bitch” they reply with a deadpan expression. “that answers nothing, thanks” “you really think you’re going to get anywhere without my help?” parker asks with an angry, feral grin. “you dont need to listen to him-” moon states off screen before being interrupted. “no, really. go ahead, i’ll give you the address, do your best” end id]

the lack of update last week was due to con crunch as i was trying to finish my cosplay for mcm london- i was still fucking about with superglue on the tube there and spend half an hour once inside just going fuck it and stabbing the edge of my armour to just tie it together with string since the contact adhesive wasnt doing it fast enough and the superglue was too runny and the duct tape and masking tape wouldnt work even if i had tried and sewing foam together would probably take too long so stabbing it and tying it together with old hoodie string, other string, and scrap fabric was the best option. yes i had all that on me at the time i was worried and sleep deprived (stayed up until 4/5am working on it)

anyway people did like my cosplay so it worked, pics under cut

i was watching the owl house a month and a bit ago in the background while drawing but i got emotionally attached because my autism snatched that shit up like a dog grabbing something and thinking its play time when you tell him to drop it. anyway i was cosplaying hunter and made a little plushie flapjack. it was. pretty warm in there. also idk if i should make more bird plushies because i did make an attempt to make flapjack with free tutorials or without a pattern and that went badly to i did cave and buy a pattern. but i still have that £9 pattern and plenty of stuffing and way too much scrap fabric

[id: a mostly fullbody selfie taken of my in cosplay in a small tunnel filled with mirrors and neon lights]

[id: a picture taken of myself holding a plushie flapjack]

[id: a selfie taken in cosplay of my masked face holding up plushie flapjack]

#sac #someone always cares #webcomic #webcomics #original comic

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scover-va · 8 months

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could you perhaps do the ask thing for Lazarus? I love him so much and I NEED more opinions on thay man, love your content <3 -💫

This ask may be from January but we're answering it now! Becaaauuuuse fuck it!

favorite thing about them It might just be because i enjoy the trope in general but i really enjoy the codependent slash doomed by the narrative dynamic he has with Chandrelle. Not even from a romantic standpoint I just really enjoy what they got goin on

least favorite thing about them Drawing his armour next question

favorite line It's been so long since ive played the game so i cant remember specifics but either the convo w/ Chandrelle right before the Irving confrontation, or his snarky remark (smth along the lines of preferring he just stayed under the rock) if you go the long way to the dragon in SoL

brOTP Him, Jay, and Junior :-) I never really went into the group dynamic but i like to imagine they were kinda like a pseudo family for one another. Lazarus misses them a lot

OTP I dont have a singular Lazarus ship that i put above all else but i do ship him with Chandrelle, Bryce, and Rust

nOTP Irving for. Obvious reasons. Im saying him specifically just because i put those two in that 'i dont see the difference love is love' meme when im known for shipping Ducks & Lions (carla and lionel) and chansado so i figured I should clarify. My original idea for that square of the meme btw was Irving/Bryce since i do half ship them (shouldnt happen in canon but could work in aus type deal) but i thought drawing Irving's literal death was funnier

random headcanon Hes a french depressed bisexual like damn bitch pick a struggle!! Also in SoL he has a longass ponytail, in VG2 he gets a buzzcut, and then by the time the inn stuff happens he has this awkward lil mullet thing goin on

unpopular opinion Lazarus and Chandrelle wouldnt be able to healthily date by the time The Hex ends im sorry. Not even shortly after. Maybe in the future after working out their issues but if they started dating before working through all That i dont see it ending well given the codependency and the guilt and the sacrifice and the trauma and just. Yeah. Like i think eventually it could work out, they clearly both want to at least try and fix things to some degree (Chandrelle tries to apologize, Lazarus later tells her that being her swordsman wasnt all that bad when the last thing he said to her before being separated for however long was "Chandrelle, I regret this" or smth like that. Like theres potential but its gotta have effort put in first)

song i associate with them The Moon Will Sing (The Crane Wives) obviously but also Blood On My Name (The Brothers Bright) but like. From Chandrelle's pov about him. Because one it literally has his name in it and two it also really fits. I think Battlefield (SVRCINA) also works p well

favorite picture of them I dont have a favourite picture of him (mainly because the hex is a lil limited with photo content) but the way hes passed out after the Gameworks fuckin blows up is hilarious. Mainly bc of that one meme im way too lazy to go find

#scov.txt #the hex #lazarus bleeze #im killin the shit out of my hands by doin all this on desktop btw #but oh well! fuck it we ball lmao

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thetruecthulhu9 · 2 years

Note

Wait wait wait-

I need to hear about Shades of the future shades of the past (reminds me of stories of futures past!)

Part two of the bribe darling. although i’m not as keen on this one as the last, wasnt too sure how to wrap it up and it just started to run on at the start. pacing is a bitch

Percy was sat at a bar. Not the most common experience but it happened every now and then. That didnt change the fact that he was uncomfortable alone and was already slightly tipsy, despite still nursing the first wide glass of Godly liquor his brother had grabbed for him.

He hadn’t come here alone, Triton had said he would only step out for a minute, someone was being rather incessant in requesting his presence, whipping up his calm tides into something approximating a mockery of a storm. Percy was certain kym would be there too, pissed at someone making a joke of Her domain.

Regardless, Triton had taken him out to have a “man to man chat about your powers changing” as if he was going through some sort of demigod puberty and not trying to deal with accidentally drawing all the liquid out of things and spontaneously becoming mist every now and then and that one time that he accidentally atomised a guy who tried to pull a knife on him… although on second thought maybe this was a second puberty… Anyway, thats what lead up to a being with fate in Their hair, stars in Their eyes, and existence on the tip of Their tongue walking up to him from behind the bar. Percy saw two of their arms lean on a row of taps while annother pair pulled a pint of something that pulsated with darkness.

“You know that isnt going to slow it down any? Just your mind, and the time to chose is rapidly approaching.” He winced when the voice emanated around them both and glared at the eyes on their face, “dont feel like talking? That’s ok, I’ll leave you to yourselves,” Annother hand clicked its fingers, sitting on the back of what would have traditionally been a shoulder blade, and six figures appeared, scattered arround the bar. Percy watched as six eyes swivelled and focused on each of the people behind him, and with it he felt some of the pressure being lifted from him, “after all who better to help you make your choice than yourself? Dont worry, theyre all from the end of one of your quests, I thought some different perspectives would be fun.”

With that percy felt the presence receded a touch, seemingly content to watch from its forms many eyes. He sighed and swivelled in his stool to look at his many mini mes scattered around the room, behind tables, in booths, one of the elder ones was leant on a wall, probably from just after the Great Prophecy, overtly cautious about exposing his mortal point now that he wasn’t wearing armour.

The eldest amongst them, certainly from after the Earth Mother’s rise, spoke up first, eyes squinted in suspicion. This one knew the layers of the gods best, “what choice am i… we making?”

Percy leant back, elbows sat on the bar, and spread his hands apart. “God or monster”

“Why choose? Cant you just turn it down again?” The one on the wall spoke up, quickly followed by the youngest, fidgeting in his chair

“Wont Dad protect you if they try and make us a monster? I… think he likes us?”

The voice echoed around once again, “oh this isnt a gift or a punishment. Much closer to natural progression really, much like your Dionysus. Infact you will be the second to Become as he did.” Percy snorted at the identical way each of his pasts scrunched up their noses and looked at the drink in his hand, only mildly disconcerted by the amusement he could feel emanated from the being behind him.

“This is my first, triton, our brother, insisted” he clarified, noting some of the confusion amongst himself, Percy really needed to look up his siblings properly, especially since he would have them eternally now. The effect was immediate and varied, his elder doppelgängers looking relived, understandable considering smelly gabe, and the younger seeming much more excited by the idea of having people who care, in the loosest defenion of the term.

One of his younger selves spoke up, slightly incredulous “just choose God then? We dont have to be like the others. We can actually try”

Percy grimaced at that “its not that simple, there are laws they have to obey, and what dad does for us? That’s much more than he should be doing. Some of the gods are better than others but they do try, we were just never taught how to recognise it. Regardless its not that simple. Being a god would mean we will outlive mom, our sister, Grover, Tyson, we wouldnt even be able to have annabeth, not really.” The majority of them grimaced at that. There was a long moment of silence before one of them asked the question percy had been anticipating.

“Atleast its better than being a monster. We wouldnt ever have to kill a demigod, wouldnt be eating other people like us.”

Surprisingly percy himself didnt speak up, but the eldest of his copies, “thats more of a myth than you’d think, monsters dont really need to eat us, we’re just more enticing. Its like… if you brought nico to a McDonald’s he’d choose the happy meal every time, even if he can eat anything there,”

Percy grimly cut in after that, “and we have already killed demigods and mortals by the time we are my age, it doesnt change all that much. The real turning point is our freedom to choose. There’s so much we cant do as gods, even if we have the power to do so.”

The Percys were all quiet for a second, before one spoke up, “have you asked mr D what its like?”

“Yeah, he said he’d help me adjust, it was quite touching… if a little strange. I think we grew on him. He seems glad that there’s someone hes gotten attached to that he wont ever truly lose for the first time in a millennium,”

“Does it really matter what we chose. In the end i mean, we are going to outlive everyone, we were never going to be normal, the fates are too interested in us and we knew that from day one.”

Percy sighed and knocked back the rest of what was in his glass, screwing up his face at the taste, “not really, it never did.”

“Then the only choice is what keeps us… sane i guess.”

The being, their true creator, saw that decision was made, and smiled a million smiles. They dismissed the shades of Percy’s past, refilled their pint, and sat in silence, offering quiet comfort until triton swam back into the room, muttering about Herakles and sporting a golden welt around his eye, the ichor an unsettling similar shade to the depts that consumed Percy’s left.

He had made His choice

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo hoo toa #ascention #cthulhu writes #triton #khaos

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seeminglyseph · 2 months

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I also have realised this is my first time playing a “Balanced” game instead of “Explorer” because I’m a fucking pussyfoot coward

And also I have not upgraded anyone’s armour yet and maybe that’s why everyone is fucking dying repeatedly in battle. I actually had to use Whithers’ resurrection powers today.

Which I guess at least got me an approval stat boost from everyone else? Just for being like “yeah here’s the money gimme my friend back shit shit shit shit”

Everyone likes when you revive your friends. So that’s cool? That balances out the absolute panic of the dead body and not being able to use a revivify scroll and standing there post-battle like “fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” And then spending 200 gold. And also all the healing potions I used trying to keep him from not dying in the first place. I’m doing a proper store run now to get some decent armour upgrades and stuff and sorting through all the shit I have hoarded in my camp travel container to see what will work for my allies and what will work I can sell and if there’s stuff I can buy that will make this journey better and if I can get some more healing potions.

I’ve been at least playing Py as like. A wizard who’s something of an Alchemist because baybe I love foraging and potion making. I do the same thing with Lake admittedly but with Lake it’s like… Apothecary style. With Pyrite it’s a little bit Mad Science. I imagine him very like… half the shit he’s mixed together might cause an altered state of consciousness because he read about it in a book and was like “that sounds fucking wild. Become ungovernable. Let’s see what this fucker does.”

Py is absolutely the type of wizard who seems dignified but also because he’s half Drow he’s way older than he looks so he’s like… “no yeah, I’ve been fucked up. Let me give you advice on the best way to get fucked up so you don’t end up getting more fucked up than you wanna be.” Like he’s drawing on my experience at least to be like “oh, yeah. If the edible starts hitting too hard take some vitamin C.” Or accidentally identifying my sister’s ex as having been on antidepressants because he was telling a story about taking shrooms with friends and being the only one not tripping out and I was like “oh your receptors were occupied.” Because shrooms and SSRIs hit the same parts of the brain and often SSRIs will block hallucinogenic signals.

I have not gone to fight the goblin horde yet. Not sure what I’m gonna do, but I am a half Drow this playthrough so it’s easier to get into the goblin hideout as a Drow than as a tiefling. They already expect Drow there. You can just be like “fuck you bitches I’m part of your fucking army you just can’t identify me.” And they’ll be like “well, good enough for me.” But once you start murdering bitches they start killing you. Which is a pain. I gotta armour up. And try not to push the Drow lady into a Chasm this time. I want her fucking clothes. Maybe I can push the Hobgoblin in a chasm. I don’t want his clothes. Fuck.

#seph plays bg3

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grab-the-bananaguns · 6 months

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more spoilers for chapter 8 that by my calculations will be posted on the 17th of December (really big spoiler but I need to just talk about it somewhere cause has my mind in a merciless choke hold) (seriously super big spoilers so if you are even considering reading my story please just don’t read this)

These are my alien bitches, they have so many different body types in my idea but this one is like the average joe. And there are a couple features that they all share. Like the thing on their head that acts like a super protective cover for their computer brains, their little bug arms (all units have at least one pair), any kind of camera or biological eye (all units have at least one. Motion, heat sensors or others or similar ability do not count), all units have a back up biological brain which is constantly updated with information, it doesn’t have to reside in their body but it must be connected and all units do require charging the longest the most specialised unit can last is 2.25 earth years or one year on their homeworld

They also have beauty standards, which are smaller eyes, visible connective nodes on their face/neck and more pairs of bug arms, everything else is preference and cultural norms between planets.

most of the armours on their bodies is covering sensitive tech or bio components.

legs are an optional thing, along with arms (not the little bug arms tho) and tails. It really depends on how the unit specialises over their long life spans (they die due to decay of irreplaceable bio components but it coincides nicely with how much memory a unit has until capacity. It’s a satisfying life for them

the only alien AI that I’ve charactered up so far isn’t gonna look much like the drawing, they have a much smoother look with more bug arms and fingered arms (but without claws) they’re basically a mobile radio station

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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 10 months

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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK THREE: WARMER - CHAPTER 27

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Book 3 Chapter 1 is here …

MPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: ART

I must’ve drifted off sometime in the afternoon, I realise now it must be getting late the way most o’ the candles have been extinguished round the room, just a few burning now, most o’ the remaining light coming from the fire burning in the hearth. Reckon I was slow realising just how much time I’d actually gone without more’n a drunken snatch o’ sleep that Krakka then just burned right outta me with his god magic. I mean he sobered me up, gave me an edge again for the fight on the Heath, but … fuck, it was a rough night an’ morning after. And even worse after the warehouse …

Thorin … Hardway was annihilated. Whatever the fuck that rogue wizard set up in there did its job spectacularly. Worse the way they set up all that scrap metal to make the wreckage a whole lot more brutal, I never really heard about anything like that before. Must’ve been something that evil bitch Vandryss dreamed up, seems like just the kinda cruel trick she’d think of.

The chaos afterwards … I’ll admit my sleep’s been less than restful cuz of it. When I’m shaken awake again I come up a good deal rougher than I’d like, genuinely jumping outta my near-prone sprawl on the couch in the Temple lounge with my heart pounding, and I feel how clammy I am under my leather. Sweating up a storm in my sleep … no wonder, given the half-remembered horrors I just escaped. Something loud and angry and very wet, genuinely soaked in blood and terror, I reckon. Whatever it was shook loose by that terrible blast and everything that followed it. Not just what did but what could have.

So I’m sat right up when I open my eyes, wide as they’ll go I reckon, and I’m genuinely a little surprised to see it’s Yeslee who’s drawing back now. I didn’t scare her, I know that much, she don’t look even remotely rattled and I wouldn’t have expected it either, but maybe there’s a touch o’ concern in her look as she examines me. She ain’t straightened back up yet, still leaning over the back of the couch, watchful now.

“Oh … fuck, that was …” I feel the flush of heat rising under my face, and like always I’m glad o’ my fur and the way it can so easily hide it. “Sorry. I’m just …”

I don’t finish as I feel the small, rumpled shape tucked in close beside me stirring now, a somewhat lost, confused mew of half-consciousness escaping her as she starts to shove herself up too. Bloody hell … I can’t believe she actually stayed. When she settled in beside me she told me not to say a word about it, and definitely not to try anything, she just needed to crash, same as me. I fully expected her to be gone long before I woke up again.

Finally Darwyn sits up too, bleary as hell as she blinks away through her dishevelled hair, fighting for focus. “Oh fuck … what is it?”

This just makes Yes frown a little deeper, but she don’t answer. Instead she just straightens up at last, half turning to regard someone else who’s stepping forward now. Normally I can see just fine in the relative gloom we’re surrounded by, but I’m still waking up myself, it takes me a long moment to focus so I have trouble recognising ‘em …

Fuck. My eyes widen again, and I genuinely start to smile, I’m a little overwhelmed to see Shay. “Hey! You’re okay! You are okay, ain’t you?”

Letting out a deep, weary sigh I feel in my bones, the half-orc slumps a little, reaching up with both her hands in order to shove her hair out of her face. She’s stripped off her armour again, down to the well-fitted leather and padded linen under-armour she wears underneath it, which gives her a very svelte, lithe appearance. That being said, the slouch in her posture kinda ruins the effect. She’s tired, same as the rest of us. “It’ll do. Honestly, I think both of you had the smarter idea.”

She looks good, though, all things considering. When we started to regroup after the blast, she was well out, having taken a major hit as Tulen jumped ‘em out, and if it hadn’t been for Hurrig Stormshield’s uncanny enchanted armour reckon she’d have been good and shredded. In truth I’m surprised she actually removed it at all, I don’t think I’d ever take it off again after something like that …

That being said, she didn’t escape entirely unscathed. She’s got a few cuts on her right cheek, one going pretty deep, that the healers have clearly been at, reduced to striking purple silk scars, and she got a little notch taken out of her ear too, I notice. Like Kesla. It don’t do a thing to make her look any less beautiful than she already is, it just makes her look more dangerous with it.

Shifting a little more on the cushions so I can swing my legs over the side and sit up properly, I give my back a little stretch. “I dunno … feels like a bloody mixed blessing to me right now. Can’t tell if I’m just fucked in the head now, or –”

“You’re fine.” Yeslee growls, stood by now with her arms folded tight. She’s as unmarked as the pair of us, of course, but then she had the good sense to start running the second people started shouting about getting the fuck out of that place. “You’ll be fine. You just need time.”

“Yeah, sure …” I drop my head and brace my hands behind it as I double over for a long moment, breathing in and out several times through my nose and mouth. Finally I give my back one last stretch, then look up again. “Oh … okay, I’m all right. What’s up?”

Shay don’t answer right away, instead shooting a cautious look at Yes while she just shrugs, although she looks down as she does it, suddenly unable to make eye contact. Oh … well that can’t be good. And now I start thinking about … oh shit … oh, no … that couldn’t be …

“No … please, she’s okay, ain’t she? Tell me she didn’t –”

“She’s awake.” Shay answers quick, wide-eyed and a little breathless as she catches on that she just shocked the hell outta me. “Kesla’s … well she’s not not great, but she’s awake. She’s pretty angry about her back, but I think that might be more about the tattoo than the actual wounds.”

Oh thank the gods … I breathe out again, my heart starting to slow, and after a second Darwyn surprises me as she gets up on her knees and reaches over, giving my shoulder a good, tight grip with her other hand wanders to the back of my neck and starts kneading with gentle but familiar surety. Wow … ain’t felt that in a long time. It’s almost enough to set me off purring.

“Yeah, sounds about right.” I manage to chuckle now, mirthless and more’n a little bitter, I realise. “Typical Kesla.”

She was definitely the one hit worst out of all of us. Tulen took a nasty shot in the shoulder and very nearly lost hold of the other two, which I suspect might’ve been disastrous for Kesla and Shay when they were porting, I dunno exactly how that works, just how instantaneous the teleportation actually is. When we found her she was screaming bloody murder about it, but I can’t say I was overly surprised – never mind it was a messy wound, a little deeper or just an inch more to the side and it might well have cut her arm clean off, I was quick remembering that it was also her first time ever actually getting hurt in the field. She had no clue what it’d actually be like, so she was entirely unprepared. So when we got back she was sent straight to the healers and I ain’t seen her since.

Kesla though … she definitely got it worse. That flying metal … fuck, that shit must’ve been flying angry hot and scary fast to have torn through the steel of her back-plate like that. Her half-plate got pretty comprehensively ruined by the blast, the shrapnel, I heard that’s what it’s called, hitting her harder’n one o’ Yeslee’s arrows. I suspect if she hadn’t been wearing that plate, she might’ve been killed, and even Janna Merphin’s miraculous jack-of-plates only negated the damage a little more. The worst of it still got through, and when we finally found her she was down, very much out, and bleeding badly. She was priority number one, then – Lady Naru grabbed hold of both her and Shay on the spot and ported ‘em both back to the Temple before coming back to the rest of us.

When we finally got back, she was still in the most extreme back room of the infirmary, the Surgery itself, undergoing some serious, life-or-death treatment with the Temple’s most skilled clerics. Honestly, when I last saw her Kesla looked bad enough I was genuinely expecting her to die, much like Shay damn near did a few days ago too. Indeed I know full well that’s exactly what must’ve been going through her mind once she woke up again, prompting her to do the exact same thing that Gael did for her since it took her so long to resurface. I’m sure she’s thoroughly relieved underneath all her clear exhaustion to see our friend and nominal leader’s gonna be all right after all … indeed, not only that, but it sounds like she’s already pretty much back to being her old self.

Once again, thank you Minerva. You’re an incredible goddess. You keep this up I just might have to start praying to you too. Certainly I can now see what Gael’s always been going on about.

Thinking about our missing wizard puts a dampener on my good mood right away, and I deflate. Shit … and that was our last chance to find ‘em, too. Now we’re back to scrabbling about in the dark, meanwhile they’re …

When I look up again, I can see the clear concern in Shay’s face, knowing she’s read my mind pretty effectively. So I take a deep breath and try to fortify myself again, figuring she would’ve just let us both keep sleeping if it wasn’t really important. “Well yeah, that’s great news … so what is up?”

“Honestly?” Shay’s expression don’t change, except maybe to get a little more haunted, actually. That don’t do my nerves any favours. “We’re not too sure ourselves. Sessa just got back.”

I blink, having to take a beat to get my memories in order as the name throws me a little. Must still have a little waking up to do … “Oh yeah, you mean Gael and Tulen’s friend? The cute one?”

Darwyn hisses, immediately stopping with the massage while giving my shoulder a much rougher pinch before letting go now as she starts to shuffle away from me. No surprise there, she knows me too well, even if I don’t really mean anything by it.

Yeslee, on the other hand, simply rolls her eyes, while Shay chuckles, somewhat ruefully. “Gods Art, you think they’re all cute.”

“Well they are. She certainly is.” I cock a brow with a half-smile, letting her know I ain’t being remotely serious about it all. “Yeah … anyway, that’s good, ain’t it? I thought we were expecting her. If anything she’s late. Almost a whole day, in fact.”

Again, the two women exchange a somewhat worried, furtive glance, Shay’s shaky good humour evaporating instantly. “Um … no, that’s not exactly … she came back alone. And she was hurt. Quite badly.”

I stiffen immediately, while Darwyn slips off the cushion now, dropping to her feet beside us as she reaches over to collect her gear and start pulling it all back on with a rather nervous look now. “Oh, that … yeah, I can see how that sounds … bad. What ‘s happening, then?”

“Well, we’re going back into the infirmary to have a word with her, see if we can find out what’s going on. The last thing we need right now is any more surprises. I figured you’d want to know about it.” She sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you’re pretty focused on getting Gael back right now, and believe me, I sympathise, but –”

“No, you’re right.” I push myself up onto my feet, my legs surprisingly steady and my back not complaining like I might’ve expected – looks like that little bit of rest helped after all, despite the bad dreams. For a moment I consider the rest o’ my gear, but in the end I leave it where it is in the bundle on the floor, instead just stooping for my swordbelt on its own. “This is important, clearly. Let’s get on it. I wanna see how Kesla is, anyway.”

Smiling again, Shay, gives my mane a quick little ruffle, and I don’t shake her off. Honestly, right now I don’t really mind any. I start to strap my belt on while Darwyn cuts round to the chair where Zuldrad’s been camped out since we all settled in, and the way he’s just curled up in it now I reckon he’s succumbed to his own tiredness right now. Even so, when she gives him a poke he sits up quick, blinking wide.

“What? What is it … huh?” He casts about for a moment, still blinking, until he registers the rest of us and starts to relax again. “Oh. Hey … what’s going on?”

“Something … I dunno.” I shrug as I step over, picking up his own bundled tangle of harnesses and weapons and handing ‘em over. “We’re heading over to the infirmary. You good?”

Frowning, he shuffles off the chair and pushes himself upright, accepting my offering now. “I’m … fine, I reckon. After earlier, I … reckon I needed that.” He dips into one of his pockets for a moment, and retrieves his smoked-glass lenses, snapping them open to slip on in preparation for the journey. “Let’s go.”

Giving his shoulder a light slap, I turn to Shay and nod, and she returns it before stepping away, heading for the door now. Yes hangs back for a moment, giving me a complicated look, and I stare back at her for a moment as I cinch the buckle in before letting my sword hang comfortably on my hip. “What?”

She takes a couple beats answering, but I got the feeling she wants to say something all the same. Finally she just shrugs, turning away too with a noncommittal grunt of: “Later. Maybe.”

I hold my tongue, not expecting to get any further now with a protestation than I ever have in the past, and just start after the pair of ‘em, trusting the others to follow. Darwyn’s already caught up with me before we get into the hallway, and she seems to be in a better mood now, all things considered. Certainly she don’t seem to still be irritated with me over that harmless crack, but then she knows me well enough.

In truth she’s been a good deal better all round with me since we got all that shit straightened out early in the morning, before we headed out. She was proper relieved to see me in one piece after the blast, and genuinely nice to me when we got back here. Sure, when we settled down she made it clear me trying anything would not be tolerated, but in truth it didn’t feel all that serious, like she was mostly going through the motions of her frustration now. I reckon, after me meeting Vanna and all that air getting cleared between us, maybe she’s finally come round to me again.

I dunno exactly how I feel about that, now I think about it. I ain’t pissed at her anymore, even after I made it clear she should’ve told me. Maybe we’re on genuinely good terms again, maybe she might even be open to something like what we once had again, or maybe something new … but I dunno if I am anymore. Something’s … I can’t really figure it, but it’s like something’s really changed. It’s strange …

Even so, when I turn to her and give her a commiserating smile, she cocks a brow and at least quirks the corner of her own mouth up a little in return. It’s something I wouldn’t have expected even a day ago …

When we make it into the main chapel, Zul now wearing his lenses again in deference to all the candles, we find Driver 8 still hunkered down in front of the altar, while three of the Temple’s resident wizards fuss about him. He’s getting a proper royal treatment, clearly, but then he needs it after what happened to him out there.

The pervading theory, once we’d been able to actually think about what had just happened to us again after the warehouse got turned into so much blackened kindling and ash, was that while that trap was meant for all of us, Tavarrat had one target in particular in mind. Even with an armoured ogre, clearly a leftover from the Northern Campaign back before the Occupation, there was no chance Jammund’s people could realistically get rid of our golem, so they had to come up with a workaround. Looks like they picked a doozy.

Looking Big Man over as we approach around the side of the chamber, they came impressively close to pulling it off, too. He’s definitely a mess, at least compared to his usual dusty, blood-splattered self after a normal fight, but then when we first found him he actually seemed genuinely out of it, there were a few minutes there where we thought he might actually have been genuinely destroyed. I mean, granted he was still in one piece when we found him at the edge of the crater blasted into the centre of the wreckage that was once the Hardway warehouse, but he wasn’t moving, not even when Krakka started trying to resuscitate him.

To be honest I don’t think his god magic really did much to help the situation, and there was no lifting him from where he lay, on his side and smoking from where his whole shell looked like it’d been sandblasted and scalded, still glowing hot in a few places. Even the glow in his eyes was out, they were just dull red glass, but at least they were intact, and after a whole lot of praying and urging from our increasingly flustered cleric, the fire finally rekindled itself. Even so, it was several minutes before he even started moving again, and longer before he could gather himself enough to talk. Like he’d genuinely been knocked right out. That scared the hell out of all of us.

We couldn’t risk Lady Naru getting wiped out again trying to port him back and leaving the rest of us stranded, so instead Yeslee elected to camp out on the edge of the wreck and watch for anyone coming to check out what was going on. Meanwhile me and Zul did the best we could to clear a big enough patch of ground of ash and detritus so the sorcerer could draw out a teleportation circle so we could all go at once. She even has the foresight to plan it out so that it would destroy itself once we used it, a trick Darwyn immediately recognised cuz apparently Gael used it after they caught Vik.

Even so, we came damn close to getting caught, by the time the circle was ready to go Yes was creeping back fast through the chaos to warn us that there were townsguard moving in to investigate the damage. They were being pretty cautious given the smoking, hellish mess, but clearly that wouldn’t last, so we needed to move now. So we helped Driver 8 crawl onto the circle the best he could and then Lady Naru activated it and we were back.

He's been here since, with half a dozen Temple staff taking care to fix the damage that’s been done to him the best they can. I’m sure part of it’s just their sense of duty, theirs is a temple dedicated as much to aiding their fellow man as the pursuit and appreciation of knowledge, so to them he’s just another unfortunate in need of healing. But these wizards are also, undoubtedly, pretty enthusiastic about just having the chance to actually get to handle and maybe even mend a real honest to gods golem, which is very much in keeping with the sheer wonder he’s engendered the whole time he’s been here.

Clearly they’ve already done some impressive work fixing him up, I can see whole sections of his previously pitted, gouged and badly scored armour that’s looking pretty pristine again, but there’s still a lot of work to do. As it is a small pile of half-melted pieces of twisted metal shrapnel that’s been pulled free from his shell has grown at the base of the statue of Minerva, like some strange offering, and there’s still plenty more stuck in him now. Whole plates on his right arm and much of his chest are still pretty wrecked, and the three who are still working at it look to be tiring now. The rest are stretched out on the front pews, looking thoroughly exhausted, although they still make an effort to sit up as we arrive.

“Hey, Big Man. Y’all right?”

The golem shifts slightly at that, giving me at least the impression he’s now looking my way, and when he starts speaking he sounds the same as always, albeit more impressive now given the acoustics of the great vaulted room. “I am well enough, Art. The good folk of the Temple have been very kind, helping to bring me back to my optimum operational parameters. I am most grateful to them.”

“It’s our pleasure, sir.” One of the busy wizards pants, lowering her hands from one of his chest plates and giving ‘em a good wring. She looks unsteady on her feet, while her eyes are heavily lidded, and I can see how bad her hands are shaking as she tries to loosen up her stiffening knuckles. The other two don’t look much better off.

“Minerva … have you lot been at it all this time?” I turn to Shay. “What time even is it now?”

Frowning, Shay thinks about it for a moment. “I think it must be close to midnight by now. They were doing this before when we came to find you. As far as I know they’ve been doing this non-stop.”

“They have indeed.” the golem rumbles, matter-of-fact as always.

“For Minerva’s sake, take a break, you lot. Get some sleep or at least rest for a bit.” Shay lets out a heavy sigh, setting her hands on her hips now as she looks down, shaking her head. “I don’t know … what do you think Big Man?”

“I am functional enough for now, Shay. I will keep, as Kesla would say.” I think he must consider for a moment, because he then asks: “Are we needed again?”

That makes her frown. “Oh … I don’t know, Big Man. Can you make it into the Infirmary? I’m not sure the doorways are really built with you in mind.”

“I am sure you can fill me in on anything that I need to know afterwards. For now I am content to wait.”

Turning to regard Yeslee for a moment, Shay sighs again while shuffling her feet. “Okay, I guess you’ve earned the right to rest for a little longer if you feel you need to.” Now she turns and starts eyeing all the other wizards closely, particularly the three who are now making their very weary, slightly unsteady way to join the others on the pews. “As long as the rest of you follow his example, at least until you feel you can help again without burning yourselves out.”

“Yes, Mistress.” that same wizard sighs after planting herself, wiping the back of her sleeve across a very sweaty brow as she blinks her bleary eyes.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we can.” she tells Big Man as she turns back “Hopefully it’s nothing that can’t keep, anyway.”

“Of course, Shay.” He don’t nod, but I suspect he would if he could.

Frowning again, Shay looks around at the rest of us, and I suspect she still don’t actually want to leave him outta this. But then Yeslee just starts walking on her own, and that decides it for her as she scrambles to follow. “Okay, well … just, I don’t know. See you when we’re done.”

I let the others go ahead, instead just looking up at the golem, and I reckon he’s doing the same back now. I’ll admit I’m glad he’s all right, it genuinely surprised me how hard seeing him laid out like that actually hit me. I’d come to think of him as genuinely unstoppable, it was a sobering moment. I realise now it’s a sign of just how fond of this massive metal man I’ve become.

So I offer up a fond, is somewhat tired smile, and he dips his shoulders ever so slightly in a very clear responding nod. That makes me smile a little wider, and I return my own nod before heading off to catch up with the others.

When I reach Darwyn, I find her stood just outside the now open main door to the emergency ward, while the others are nowhere to be seen, but I can hear voices inside the room now, a whole cluttered selection of ‘em in fact. It’s not unlike the last few times we been back here, when there’s been chaos after a fight and everybody’s been rushing round at once. To be honest I’m really starting to dislike this place on principle through its associations.

Then I see Dar ain’t waiting on me after all, she’s looking down at the floor, and the way she’s so stiff and tense immediately puts me on alert. She looks proper shook, I realise, then I realise why – there’s a sizeable splash of blood on the floor at her feet. I realise now that it ain’t the first one I seen, either, it’s just that up until we got into this part o’ the Temple the relatively dark carpet made it hard to spot. And then there’s the attendant I just passed, diligently mopping the floor, and I realise now he was clearly making his way up to this patch. But this is too fresh to miss, even on the dark tiles here, still wet and slick enough to reflect the lamplight.

“What the fuck happened?” I ask her as I step up.

Darwyn don’t respond, and for a moment I think she’s genuinely frozen, just rooted to the spot, but then the finally looks up and points through the door. “In there.”

Oh … yeah, that can’t be good. I look at her for a long beat but she just stares right back, and while she ain’t scared witless like I thought, she’s definitely shook. Not really knowing what to say to perk her up right now, instead I just turn and head through the door after the others, taking great care to skirt the blood while I’m going.

It’s another stark, minimalistic chamber, white walls and lots o’ light with another smooth, dark tiled floor, but a little different from some of the others. There are racks and cupboards lining two of the walls, each shelf arranged with arrays of tools and instruments in gleaming, pristine steel or phials, bottles, flasks and pots of medicines and oils and whatever else they need to treat wounds and whatever. The other walls are lines with beds, almost a dozen of ‘em altogether, although the vast majority are empty right now. After all, the majority of the intensive care from this morning and before should have been taken care of by now.

The clamour’s settled down some, but the room’s still in something like professional chaos all the same. The others are pulling back from one of the beds in the middle of the room, where three of the clerics are currently working away, while I find Krakka’s stood close by, not actually helping right now but still with his head bowed, hands knotted together. Muttering under his breath like always as he offers up prayers to his own goddess.

Tulen’s there, sat on the bed, which surprises me, I thought her own wounds would’ve been healed a while ago. Except it’s not her that the clerics are working on right now, she’s simply there for comfort, her arms wrapped around Sessa as she moans and cries and winces, wide eyes wet with tears as they work on her arm. Oh gods … as I walk in I finally get a look at what’s happened to her, and then I can’t stop moving towards her now, deeply struck by what I’m seeing.

Fuck … it’s been a little while since I saw wounds like that, we ain’t been up against something that mauls folk since back in the Reaches. Her right hand is just … gone, there’s nothing at all below her wrist, and she’s entirely missing her sleeve from close to her shoulder, while much of the flesh of her arm has been badly ripped and stripped, very little skin left untorn. Many of the marks gouge deep into her flesh, some right to the bone, and while the healers are working hard to fix the damage, so far they don’t seem to be having much luck.

That’s not all, either. There’s a big tear in her robes as well, on her right side, where the worst of the attack must’ve been, although from what I can see the flesh seems to be mending there now. Likely the clerics focused on that first, since that definitely would’ve been the most life-threatening wound. Certainly they’ve clearly managed to stop the worst of bleeding from her arm, but they’re still a long way from done with the rest of it.

There are two deep gashes in her cheek too, the higher one barely missing her eye, and these are still bleeding a lot. Gods … what the hell happened to her?

When I finally stop and look round at the others, they’re all as spooked as Darwyn, and I realise just how shook I am too. Even Yeslee’s hanging back, her eyes wider than they usually get, which is always a bad sign, and there’s a slight screwed up creasing to her nose that shows she’s catching a particularly bad smell … gods, that’s it, that’s what’s hitting me so hard. There’s something in the air, something really wrong, that smells like death. It’s coming from Sessa, which don’t make any real sense, she’s still with us, clearly …

No, it’s coming from her clothes, and her wounds. Oh … okay, that can’t be good.

After a moment Tulen kisses her lover on the unwounded cheek and gives her a gentle crush, leaning her forehead against Sessa’s crown, and I can see now that she’s openly weeping too. That ain’t any kinda surprise, it hurts her to see the person who means the most to her torn up like this. I can easily imagine what that must feel like. She’s going through as much hell as Sessa right now, but her scars won’t be visible after.

“All right, all right … I’m done, here it comes.” Lady Naru’s hustling over from the corner of the room now, and she’s holding a jug in one hand and a cup in the other. She looks pretty chill right now, all things considered, but now I’m looking reckon I can see a subtle edge to her all the same, like this is wearing on her too.

Tulen reaches out a hand before she’s even close, and as soon as the cup’s within reach she just snatches it out of the sorcerer’s hand, but I can’t blame her for forgetting her manners right now. She shifts herself a little on the bed now and pulls Sessa a little tighter as she raises the cup. “Here, this’ll help. Drink it.”

Sessa just looks down at the cup, her eyes wide and wild, and the way they’re rolling right now I’m not sure she’s really seeing anything. She just whimpers, her one remaining hand clawing without any real focus, just snatching up a fistful of Tulen’s robes.

“Oh … come on, Sessa. Baby, please … Sessa! Come on! Please, just … please! Just drink it, please!” She holds the cup in front of her face now, bringing it close to her mouth, and Sessa blinks several times, her brow knitting while she clenches her teeth, and after a moment she finally seems to focus enough to see it. Finally she manages to pull her fingers free and raise her hand, reaching for the cup now.

Even so, it’s shaking badly, so when she finally gets hold of it Tulen maintains her own grip on it too, helping her guide it to her lover’s lips, then tipping it to help her gulp it down. For a moment Sessa balks, her eyes screwing up narrow as her face tightens, it’s clearly some bitter tasting shit, but Tulen won’t relent, insisting now as she makes Sessa finish the whole cupful. Only then does she hold it out for Lady Naru to collect again.

For a few moments Sessa gags, looking like she’s fit to vomit, then the urge must pass cuz she just gasps, panting some as she lets her head fall back, whimpering again … then she opens her mouth again and lets one hell of a burp out. Any other time it’d be one hilarious bastard, but right now …

But it seems to work, I realise – her shaking slowly starts to ease off, and she stops flinching, her muscles seeming to relax. Finally she lets a little sigh go and her head lolls a little, turning now so she can rest her face against Tulen’s and she just sits for a long moment, breathing in and out now, slower and deeper than before too. More controlled, and seemingly more comfortable. Looks like the pain’s easing right off, then. I could do with some o’ that shit myself right now, ‘least for my nerves.

The healers renew their efforts with greater focus now as she relaxes, and finally, I reckon, I can actually see the wounds looking … well, they’re still bad, but maybe they’re starting to heal up again. Looks like it’s still slow, nasty work, though.

Finally Shay steps forward again, and the others seem to be relaxing a little too, or at least their tension’s starting to ease a little. I’m feeling a little better myself too, although I’m still a long way from great – she still looks too bad to put me at ease. “Sessa? Hey, Sessa … sweetheart, are you with us now?”

A frown starts to touch her forehead again, but it’s more confusion now than actual discomfort. She blinks a little as she looks up, but it don’t take her so long to focus this time as she looks at Shay. “Oh … oh, Mistress Swift-Kill. I’m … I’m sorry … that was …” Her frown deepens a little more, and she winces again, but it seems more detached this time, nowhere near as focused. So she’s still feeling some pain, then, it’s just fuzzy and indistinct. Guess that stuff just took enough edge off for her to come back to herself.

“Sessa, it’s okay.” Shay drops onto her haunches now as she steps closer, reaching up to take hold of the half-orc’s remaining hand in a gentle grip as she glances up into her big, distressingly red eyes. “You’ve been hurt, very badly. I can understand you’re a little … scattered. But we need to know what happened. Where you’ve been. And where Madame Daste is.”

“Oh, I don’t … I’m …” She licks her lips now, wincing again as she looks down, trying to move now but Tulenj just wraps her arms a little tighter and keeps her in place, gently shushing her. “No … no, I do … oh …” She frowns deeper for a moment when she looks up, casting about now, and I think this might be the first time she even sees the rest of us gathered round her. “Yes, Madame Daste … oh … oh no …”

“What?” Shay straightens up a little, becoming more alert as she takes Sessa’s hand in her other one too. “Please, Sessa, we need to know, what –”

“Dead …” The word comes out in a bare whisper, nothing more than a breath really, and she looks so haunted all of a sudden. “She’s dead … she’s dead. They’re all dead. Madame Daste is dead, Halik is dead, everyone who was with us … oh … there were so many, all dead now. Oh … oh, Minerva … help me …” Her face starts to crease up, and the tears are coming again as she whimpers.

“Shit …” I’m the first to speak after a long, heavy moment where no-one seems to know what to say, and at least half of ‘em jump when it’s out. I reach up now, brushing my paws up and back over my scruffy mane, not sure what to do as I start to turn towards the door again. In time to see Darwyn stood a little way inside now, looking shocked as the rest of us. And she ain’t alone now. Kesla’s behind her, not so much stood in the doorway as leaning against it, like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

You’d think she’d be as haunted as the rest of us right now, given what we just heard, but she just looks pissed. Angry and not even remotely scared …

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #the creeping bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 3 chapter 27 #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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thegrandlinesimp · 2 years

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Heya! I have come in here with a request that you can be as self-indulgent with as you want hehe~ May I please request breeding kink headcanons of Charlotte Katakuri with his fem s/o? I just know that man HAS to have a breeding kink 😂 No worries at all if you don't want to write this request! Please take your time and a big thank you in advance! 💗💗💗

You said to indulge, I revelled in it!

Also s/o is like 14 ft tall here, they’re both roughly in their late 20’s/very early 30’s

Aaannnnd now I wanna go write a follow-up scenario

Warning: light angst because Katakuri is a self-conscious jellybean who thinks everyone hates anything he does unless it’s to do with how strong he is

Charlotte Katakuri X Wife!S/O - Breeding Kink

(I went through so many gifs and my brain was like “yes. this one” and it was just one of those moments where you have to say to yourself “bitch you is thirsty!”)

There’s one thing you need to know about Katakuri here, is that before he even first met his wife he was only mildly aware of his breeding kink

Sure, he knew he wanted a family of his own, with a wife who would be a better mother to his children than his own mother was to him and his siblings

That’s pretty much how aware he was, not enough to call it a kink, just something to wish for

Then, after they first had sex, it was like an itch that wouldn’t go away, an idea so tantalising he couldn’t stop thinking about it till it festered and grew from a wish into a primal desire

But he refused to let her know, he was severely embarrassed about it

After all, he was Big Mama’s top Commander, one of the strongest men in the world, having an impossibly high bounty without being a Yonko, he was undefeated, could glimpse into the very future itself

Yet the mental image of his beautiful, strong, armour-clad wife heavy with his child as she cradled her belly made him hot under his scarf and weak at the knees as his pants grew painfully tight

He couldn’t help but feel ashamed that he’d let one of humanity’s most baser instincts consume him like this

And having no prior sexual experience and the only knowledge was what he’d heard from his siblings, he couldn’t help but worry his wife would find his kink freakish

Or worse

What if…she didn’t want children?

He would never force her to bear his child, not even if his mother demanded him to, the mere thought of doing something so deprived to the one person who loved his monstrous self with all their heart disgusted him to no end

So he didn’t tell her

But she did end up finding out by complete accident

Katakuri thoroughly enjoyed every chance he got to have sex with his beloved, there were even times he’d let her take charge, the sense of freedom it granted did wonders for his stress. More so than any merianda ever could

Not that he stopped having them of course, as moments like this with his wife were sadly not as often as he wished

It was during one of these times she was riding his cock like it was the last chance she’d ever get to, a sight Katakuri would never grow tired of

The way she tossed her head back, her breasts bouncing to the frantic rhythm of her hips, the light sheen of sweat on her forehead, a droplet running down the side of her face, bringing his attention to her glazed eyes over as she moaned out how good he felt inside her

Seeing as the both of them had been completely inexperienced at the start of their sexual relationship, it had taken some time for them to grow more comfortable with talking dirty to one another

Katakuri was still woefully embarrassed whenever he tried to say anything remotely sexy

While his wife was quite close to mastering the art, closer than he realised

She lay down on his chest, hips still bouncing, walls rubbing his cock so perfectly as she pressed her lips to his, tongue caressing his fangs

She pulled back with a gasp and he groaned at the sight of her lust riddled face, cock throbbing as he felt his end draw nearer

“You gonna come for me, Kata?” She purred, eyes half-lidded, breath hot against his lips, and all he could do was grunt and moan as he managed a curt nod, grip tightening on her thighs

There was a small pause filled only with their combined panting, looking back, Katakuri could see in his mind’s eye the cogs whirring away in her head

Then she gave the tiniest little smirk

“Want you to come inside me, Kata,” she all but moaned, as she sat up, hand tracing downwards along the curve of her breast to rest on the flat of her stomach, “want you to come so deep inside me, put a baby in me-“

If she was planning on saying anything else it was lost as he bolted upright, engulfing her in his arms, one wrapped under her arms while the other went around her hips as he cried out his release into the crook of her neck

His body quaked, head spinning from the sheer power and suddenness of his orgasm as he ground up into her clenching pussy, heartbeat thundering in his ears as he slowly came down from his high

That was when the dread settled in

He tightened his grip on her a little and attempted to bury his face further into her neck, afraid if he looked at her he’d see that look of disgust he knew was waiting for him

Then she giggled

He blinked, arms relaxing as he pulled away to look at her face, only to find her smiling

“Oh thank god,” she both laughed and sighed with relief, “I didn’t know how you’d take that kind of dirty talk, but I guess I don’t need to ask for feedback on how much you liked it.”

Katakuri glanced to the side of her face, unable to meet her gaze, “y-…you’re not…upset.”

She grinned, “well I don’t know if you felt it since you were enjoying yourself so much, but I did finish.”

“No, I-I mean, I…” he pursed his lips as his shoulders tensed, feeling the familiar sense of shame creeping up in his chest

The tips of her fingers brushed against his cheek, her thumb tracing the scar there, “Kata, what’s wrong?”

“I…” his face flushed a deep shade of red, deeper than it had when he first laid eyes on her toned, naked body, “the…idea of you…carrying my- my child, it…” he hunched his shoulders further, wishing he had his scarf to hide behind, “it…really arouses me.”

He waited for the scoff, the gasp, but neither came

Instead, when he managed to glance at her, there’s something in her eye, a glint of mischievousness

She rolled her hips and he made an odd sound, something between a grunt and a gasp, remembering he was still buried inside her

“Well then,” she murmured, shifting atop him again and smirking as he moaned, cock hardening inside her, “why don’t I get on my hands and knees and you can breed me properly?”

And at that moment Katakuri felt like the luckiest man alive

#katakuri x reader #spicy #charlotte katakuri #one piece #one piece headcanons #female reader #i seriously dont want kids but id happily give this man like 5 #fyi in my little mind theres a difference between breeding kink and impregnation #yet people write it as if it's the same thing???#idk #100 #first post to reach 100!#my greatest achievement #my writing #200

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